Movie of the Year

Movie of the Year: 1971
Harold and Maude (feat. Van from the Gaymer Girls pod!)
The Harold and Maude podcast episode is here — and the Taste Buds are diving deep into one of 1971's most subversive and life-affirming films. Hal Ashby's Harold and Maude (1971) has been a cult touchstone for over fifty years. This episode gives it the full PopFilter treatment. Ryan, Mike, and Greg welcome guest panelist Van Baumann from the Gaymer Girls podcast for a conversation about this singular film. It baffled studios, bombed at the box office, and somehow became a defining work of American cinema. Furthermore, this episode features a Rushmore segment on the most iconic May-December romances in movie history, plus a Shopping Spree. Consequently, this is one of the most spirited episodes of the Movie of the Year: 1971 series.


About the Harold and Maude Film
Directed by Hal Ashby, Harold and Maude arrived in December 1971 as one of the most unusual films Paramount Pictures had ever released. The screenplay, written by Colin Higgins, began as his master's thesis at UCLA film school. It follows Harold Chasen (Bud Cort), a wealthy young man obsessed with death. Harold stages elaborate fake suicides to shock his emotionally absent mother. Moreover, he fills his days with funerals, hearses, and junkyards — searching for something authentic in a world of suffocating privilege. At one such funeral, he meets Maude (Ruth Gordon), a 79-year-old woman. Her boundless appetite for life stands in complete contrast to his morbid worldview. Above all, their unlikely friendship — and eventual romance — challenges every social convention the Hal Ashby 1971 film can find.
The Harold and Maude film bombed on initial release. Critics were baffled, and audiences didn't know what to make of it. Nevertheless, it found its audience through midnight screenings and college campuses, eventually becoming one of cinema's defining 1971 cult classics. The Cat Stevens Harold and Maude soundtrack became inseparable from the film's identity. Notably, the Criterion Collection released a full restoration on Blu-ray in 2012. That cemented its status as a genuine classic. You can explore the full credits at its IMDb page.

Guest Panelist: Van Baumann
Van Baumann joins the Taste Buds for this Harold and Maude podcast episode. She co-hosts Gaymer Girls — a weekly podcast covering gaming, queer culture, and pop culture. Van and co-host Sana cover topics ranging from Baldur's Gate 3 to LGBTQ+ representation in gaming. Their wit and expertise extend to the cultural politics of the industry as well. Moreover, the show specializes in IP deep-dives for newcomers. Long-running franchises get broken down in ways that are accessible, funny, and genuinely informative.
Van's perspective on the Harold and Maude film is a particularly fitting one. The 1971 cult classic resonates strongly with queer audiences for its anti-establishment energy and rejection of conventional romance. Additionally, her background in gaming culture and media criticism brings a fresh lens to Ashby's film. It is a perspective the Taste Buds couldn't provide on their own.
Harold and Maude as Characters: An Unlikely Mirror in a Harold and Maude Podcast Discussion
At the heart of the Harold and Maude film are two characters who could not appear more different on paper. Harold is young, wealthy, and surrounded by privilege — yet profoundly miserable. Maude is elderly and owns almost nothing. She has lived through extraordinary hardship. The film subtly implies she is a Holocaust survivor. However, both characters share a fundamental rejection of the life society has scripted for them. Harold's fake suicides are acts of rebellion against his mother's indifference. Meanwhile, Maude steals cars and uproots city trees without malice. She acts from a deep belief that the world belongs to everyone equally.
Ruth Gordon's performance is magnetic. Gordon plays Maude not as a quirky old woman. Rather, she portrays someone who earned every ounce of joy through survival and deliberate choice. Bud Cort embodies Harold's blankness with quiet precision. His deadpan delivery makes every small shift in the character feel earned. Consequently, the chemistry between them feels less like a conventional romance and more like a transmission. Maude passes something essential to Harold before her time runs out. The Taste Buds and Van explore what makes these characters so enduring. Both discuss why the film still resonates more than fifty years later.

Life and Philosophy: What the Harold and Maude 1971 Film Actually Teaches
Harold and Maude is, at its core, a film about choosing to live. Specifically, it argues that joy is not something handed to you — it is something you practice, steal, nurture, and defend. Maude embodies this philosophy in every scene. She makes art and plays music with equal passion. Furthermore, she transplants a struggling tree from a concrete sidewalk to the open forest. She believes living things deserve better conditions than city concrete. Above all, she treats every encounter as an opportunity rather than an obligation.
The Hal Ashby 1971 film engages with existentialism in a remarkably accessible way. It never lectures. Instead, it dramatizes the tension between Harold's death drive and Maude's life force. The audience feels the shift as the film progresses. In addition, Harold and Maude is bracingly anti-authoritarian — Harold's priest, his psychiatrist, and his militaristic uncle are all buffoons. Authority, Ashby and Higgins suggest, is part of what kills the spirit. Therefore, the film's philosophy is ultimately about sovereignty: the right to live, love, and die on your own terms. The Taste Buds unpack all of it across this Harold and Maude podcast episode.
Legacy: How the Harold and Maude 1971 Podcast Goes Deep on a Cult Icon
Few films have had a stranger journey from flop to icon. The Harold and Maude film opened to near-universal bewilderment in 1971. Paramount barely knew how to market it. Nevertheless, word of mouth — particularly among countercultural and college audiences — kept it alive. By the late 1970s, it was a staple of midnight movie circuits. By the 1980s, it had influenced a generation of filmmakers. Notably, Wes Anderson has cited it as a key influence on his film Rushmore. Both films center on unlikely intergenerational bonds.
Moreover, the 1971 cult classic has always commanded a substantial queer following. Its rejection of normative romance, its celebration of chosen family, and Maude's radical individuality have made it a touchstone for LGBTQ+ audiences for decades. Additionally, the Cat Stevens Harold and Maude soundtrack is among cinema's most celebrated. Stevens later converted to Islam and stepped back from this earlier work. Above all, Harold and Maude endures because it offers something rare: a film that insists life is worth living, and actually means it. For a bracket-style podcast covering the greatest films of 1971, this Hal Ashby film demands serious consideration.
Rushmore: The Most Iconic May-December Romances in Movie History
In this week's Rushmore segment, each panelist makes their case for the most iconic May-December romance in movie history. The prompt is inspired by the film itself — cinema's most famous age-gap romance. However, the Taste Buds range far beyond 1971 for their nominations. Furthermore, the debate gets heated fast as the panel navigates decades of Hollywood romance to crown their personal MVPs. Tune in to find out who made the cut — and whose picks got laughed out of the room.
Shopping Spree
The Taste Buds and Van also sit down for a Shopping Spree segment, one of PopFilter's beloved recurring features. Each participant brings a recommendation that pairs well with the episode's themes. Films, media, and cultural artifacts are all fair game. In addition, the segment is a chance for the panel to let their enthusiasms run free outside the main discussion. Notably, the Harold and Maude Shopping Spree delivers some particularly inspired picks. Listen in to find out what made the list.
Why Harold and Maude Still Matters
More than fifty years after its release, the Harold and Maude film remains one of the most emotionally honest ever made. It refuses to sentimentalize death or romanticize youth. Instead, it argues that wisdom, joy, and love have no age limit. Choosing to be fully alive, it suggests, is the most radical act of all. Moreover, in an era of increasing conformity and algorithmic culture, Maude's anarchic embrace of experience feels more urgent than ever.
The 1971 cult classic also matters as a document of its moment. 1971 was a year of profound cultural friction. The counterculture was fading, the Vietnam War continued, and a deep national anxiety had taken hold. Harold and Maude absorbed all of that tension and responded with something unexpected: grace. Consequently, it stands as one of 1971's most essential films and a worthy contender in PopFilter's Movie of the Year bracket. Additionally, Van Baumann's perspective adds a dimension the Taste Buds alone couldn't provide. This Harold and Maude podcast episode is a must-listen for fans of film and philosophy.
Related Episodes from Movie of the Year: 1971

Movie of the Year: 1971
Dirty Harry (feat. Conor Kilpatrick from iFanboy!)

The Dirty Harry podcast arrives this week on Movie of the Year: 1971, as the Taste Buds take on one of the most influential and contested crime films ever made. Don Siegel's thriller introduced the world to Inspector Harry Callahan — a San Francisco cop who operates on instinct, fury, and a very large handgun. Moreover, the film sparked a debate about justice, civil liberties, and the price of order that has never fully quieted. The Taste Buds are joined by Conor Kilpatrick of iFanboy for this Don Siegel Dirty Harry analysis, and they also cover 1971 ProStars and a special segment on the year in comic books.
Episode Show Notes: What We Cover
This Dirty Harry 1971 film discussion covers a lot of ground. Below is a summary of the key talking points from the episode — a roadmap for listeners and a reference for anyone who wants to dig deeper after the fact.
On Harry Callahan as a character: The panel opens by asking whether Harry is actually a hero or whether the film simply frames him as one. Conor argues that Eastwood's performance is so controlled and interior that the audience does the work of making Harry sympathetic — the film barely has to try. Ryan pushes back: Harry's righteousness is earned on screen because he is always right in his read of a situation, even when he is wrong in his methods. Mike lands somewhere in between, pointing out that Harry's body count by the end of the first film is genuinely troubling if you stop and count.
On politics and the law: The Taste Buds spend significant time on Pauline Kael's famous "fascist" critique and whether it holds up. The consensus is that the film is more ambiguous than Kael allowed — but that the ambiguity is doing real work, and not always in a reassuring direction. The legal system in Dirty Harry is not just flawed; it is portrayed as an active obstacle to justice. That framing has consequences.
On San Francisco: The panel discusses how Don Siegel uses the city as a visual argument — the geography of the chase scenes, the specific choice of Kezar Stadium as a set piece, and what it means to set this particular story in the city that had been the symbolic capital of American idealism just four years earlier.
On 1971 in comics: Conor breaks down the Marvel vs. DC landscape of the year, the significance of the Spider-Man drug arc, and why Jack Kirby's Fourth World still does not get the mainstream recognition it deserves. Additionally, he and the Taste Buds find real thematic overlap between the comics and the film: both are grappling with institutions that have failed and individuals who step into the void.
About the Film

Dirty Harry (1971) was directed by Don Siegel and stars Clint Eastwood as Inspector Harry Callahan of the San Francisco Police Department. The film follows Callahan as he hunts the Scorpio Killer — a sadistic serial murderer loosely inspired by the real-life Zodiac Killer — while clashing repeatedly with a city bureaucracy unwilling to bend the rules. Harry has no such hesitation. Andrew Robinson plays Scorpio with chilling, unhinged intensity. The film's cat-and-mouse structure keeps the tension taut from its rooftop opening shot through its iconic waterfront finale.
Furthermore, Dirty Harry arrived at a fraught cultural moment. Crime rates in major American cities were rising sharply. Public trust in government and police was eroding. Consequently, the film's portrait of a cop who gets results by any means necessary struck a powerful nerve. For more context alongside this Dirty Harry podcast, explore the full production history on the film's IMDb page.
Produced by Warner Bros. and Malpaso Productions, the film features a propulsive score by Lalo Schifrin. Dirty Harry launched a five-film franchise and cemented Clint Eastwood as one of cinema's defining icons of controlled menace. It remains among the most debated American films of its era — a movie that means different things depending entirely on who is watching it. Listeners who enjoy this Dirty Harry podcast episode might also want to revisit our discussion of The French Connection, another 1971 film that wrestles with law enforcement, moral ambiguity, and the limits of the justice system.
Guest Panelist: Conor Kilpatrick of iFanboy
Joining the Taste Buds this week is Conor Kilpatrick, co-founder and longtime host at iFanboy — one of the most enduring comics media platforms on the internet. Conor co-founded iFanboy around 2000 alongside Josh Flanagan and Ron Richards, originally as a college email chain where friends traded weekly comic reviews. That chain became a website, then a podcast, then a 25-year institution in the comics world. Known as the "DC Guy" of iFanboy, Conor has spent decades explaining infinite Earths, multiple reboots, and the craft of visual storytelling with genuine enthusiasm and expertise. He brings that same depth of knowledge to the Dirty Harry podcast discussion this week.
He is also the co-host of the Goodfellas Minute podcast and a co-founder of Great Northern Media. Moreover, his deep knowledge of 1971 comics makes him the ideal guest for this episode's special segment. His perspective on the cultural landscape of 1971 — what was happening in comics while Dirty Harry was in theaters — adds a dimension to this Dirty Harry 1971 film discussion that no other guest could bring. Welcome to Movie of the Year, Conor.
Harry Callahan: The Dirty Harry Podcast's Central Debate

Harry Callahan is one of American cinema's most complicated figures. On the surface, he is a blunt instrument — a man who solves problems with a .44 Magnum and withering silence. However, Siegel and Eastwood invest him with something far more ambiguous. Harry is genuinely competent, even brilliant, at what he does. The tragedy is that the system he serves refuses to reward competence over politics.
Eastwood's performance is famously economical. He does not grandstand or seek sympathy. Notably, that restraint is precisely what makes Harry magnetic — audiences fill in the emotional gaps themselves, projecting onto a man who reveals almost nothing voluntarily. The Taste Buds discuss whether Harry reads as a hero, an antihero, or something the film itself cannot quite name. For contrast, consider how Gene Hackman's Popeye Doyle in The French Connection presents a similarly brutal cop — but one the film regards with considerably more irony.
The "Do you feel lucky, punk?" monologue is among the most quoted speeches in 1970s cinema. Nevertheless, it is more than a catchphrase. It is a masterclass in character — Harry performing certainty he may not entirely feel, using psychology as a weapon when firepower is temporarily unavailable. Above all, it reveals a man who understands power in all its forms and deploys it with surgical precision.
Politics, Justice, and the Law: A Don Siegel Dirty Harry Analysis

Few films from 1971 generated more critical controversy than Dirty Harry. Pauline Kael famously called it a fascist work of art in her widely-discussed review. Others defended it as a frank reckoning with a legal system too broken to protect its own citizens. Consequently, the film sits at the center of a political argument that has never fully resolved itself.
The film's central tension is not, ultimately, between Harry and Scorpio. It is between Harry and the law itself. Time and again the legal system fails — releasing Scorpio on procedural grounds, blocking the investigation, prioritizing process over lives. Harry's response is to act outside those constraints entirely. Moreover, the film frames him as righteous for doing so, and that is precisely what troubled critics at the time.
However, the Taste Buds push on this carefully. Does Dirty Harry endorse vigilantism, or does it simply portray it with unflinching honesty? The ending — Harry throwing his badge into the water — complicates any easy reading. Therefore, rather than celebrating his methods without reservation, the film may ultimately acknowledge that Harry's approach destroys him even as it saves others. This Don Siegel Dirty Harry analysis explores that tension without settling for easy answers. Listeners interested in how 1971 cinema handled political disillusionment should also visit our episode on A Clockwork Orange, which confronts similar questions from a radically different angle.
San Francisco: A City in the West

San Francisco is not merely a backdrop in Dirty Harry. It is a character. Don Siegel shoots the city with documentary precision — rooftops, construction sites, Kezar Stadium, winding streets, and the cold grey of the bay. As a result, San Francisco's geography becomes an extension of the film's moral landscape: beautiful, treacherous, and full of places the law cannot easily reach.
The city of 1971 was in deep transition. The Summer of...

Coming Soon

Movie of the Year: 1971
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory podcast fans, this one is for you. Ryan, Mike, and Greg are joined by special guest Matt Singer of ScreenCrush to revisit one of 1971's most beloved and most debated films on Movie of the Year. In addition, Mel Stuart's musical fantasy has frightened and delighted children and adults in equal measure for over fifty years. This episode also features Movie Trivia and a PopFilter Hall of Fame: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory induction.
About the Film
Roald Dahl based the film on his 1964 novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The story follows young Charlie Bucket, who wins a golden ticket and tours the mysterious factory of the eccentric Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka. Notably, Dahl wrote the screenplay himself — and then disowned the finished film. He objected to the liberties the production took with his story and his vision for the character. As a result, that tension between author and adaptation makes this a particularly rich film to revisit.
Before diving in, check out our recent episodes on The Last Picture Show, A Clockwork Orange, and The French Connection for more from the Movie of the Year 1971 series.
Guest Panelist: Matt Singer of ScreenCrush
Matt Singer joins the Taste Buds for this episode. He serves as editor and film critic at ScreenCrush and holds membership in the New York Film Critics Circle. Singer spent five years as the on-air host of IFC News on the Independent Film Channel. He has also contributed to CBS This Morning Saturday, Ebert Presents at the Movies, The Village Voice, and The Dissolve. Furthermore, he won a Webby Award for his work on IFC.com and authored Opposable Thumbs: How Siskel & Ebert Changed Movies Forever.
Matt Singer's New Book: Funny Business
His latest book is Funny Business, out in October. It covers the comedy films of the 2000s — Old School, Zoolander, The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Superbad, The Hangover, and more. Pre-order it now. Moreover, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory ranks among Singer's four all-time favorite films on Letterboxd. Consequently, this is not just any guest — Singer has thought deeply about this film for a very long time.
Willy Wonka 1971 Podcast Discussion: Genre and Tone
The first major topic of this Willy Wonka 1971 podcast discussion is the question that has divided audiences since opening day: what kind of film is this, exactly? The studio marketed it as a children's musical fantasy. In practice, however, it delivers something far stranger and more unsettling. The boat tunnel sequence alone has scared generations of young viewers. Moreover, the tone shifts without warning from whimsical to genuinely threatening. Gene Wilder's performance keeps the audience perpetually off-balance throughout.
Ryan, Mike, Greg, and Matt Singer dig into how Mel Stuart navigated the tension between studio ambitions and the source material. They also examine the complicated role of Roald Dahl as screenwriter — a man who shaped the film's darkest edges and then rejected the result. For more on the film's production history on IMDB, the details prove just as strange as the movie itself.
What Gene Wilder Brings to Willy Wonka
Above all, the panel examines what Gene Wilder brings to the role that no other actor has replicated. His Wonka radiates warmth that sits one beat away from menace — and a menace that sits one beat away from warmth. No other performer has threaded that needle. For a full look at Wilder's career, therefore, visit his IMDB page.
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: Kids vs. Adults
One of the central questions of this episode is who Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory actually targets. On the surface, it presents itself as a children's film. In practice, though, it rewards adult viewing in ways that most children's films never attempt. The satire cuts deep, the darkness feels genuine, and Wonka makes much more sense to a viewer who no longer roots for Charlie as a pure hero.
The panel explores the film through both lenses. As children, most of them fell for the candy and feared the tunnel. As adults, by contrast, they find something else entirely — a film about power, punishment, and the thin line between a visionary and a tyrant. Additionally, they discuss how the film shifts meaning depending on which version of yourself sits in the audience, and why that quality remains so rare.
Capitalism, Conformity, and Other -Isms in Willy Wonka 1971
Beneath the chocolate and the Oompa Loompas, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory has a great deal to say about the world. The children who fail Wonka's tests are not simply bad kids. Instead, they embody consumer culture, class anxiety, and parental failure. Augustus Gloop represents excess. Violet Beauregarde embodies competitive ambition. Veruca Salt carries unchecked privilege. Meanwhile, Mike Teavee absorbs media saturation. Each child faces punishment not for being a child, but for playing the role of a particular kind of adult in miniature.
Ryan, Mike, Greg, and Matt Singer examine what the film says about capitalism, conformity, and the systems that shape children before they can question them. In addition, they take on the troubling labor politics of the Oompa Loompas — workers paid in cacao beans, housed inside their employer's factory, and sent out to deliver moral lectures on demand. It is a lot to unpack. Nevertheless, this episode unpacks all of it.
For more critical context on the film's themes, visit RogerEbert.com.
Movie Trivia: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory Edition
This episode features a special Movie Trivia segment. Did you know that Gene Wilder agreed to play Wonka only if the character could limp — so audiences could never fully trust him? Or that the chocolate river used real chocolate and cream, and quickly turned rancid on set? Or that Roald Dahl refused to authorize a sequel after the studio ignored his objections to the first film?
As a result, the Taste Buds and Matt Singer test their full knowledge of the film. They cover casting history, behind-the-scenes stories, and the many ways the finished film diverged from Dahl's original vision. Even devoted fans will likely learn something new.
PopFilter Hall of Fame: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
This episode also features a PopFilter Hall of Fame: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory induction. The panel makes their case for which element of the film deserves permanent enshrinement — whether that is Gene Wilder's performance, a specific scene, a song, or something else entirely. Tune in to find out what makes the cut.
Why the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory Podcast Discussion Still Matters
More than fifty years after its release, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory stands as one of the most enduring and genuinely strange films in the American canon. It grows with you. Specifically, it means something different at seven, at seventeen, and at forty-seven. Few films can make that claim.
Ultimately, this Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory podcast episode revisits the film not just as a 1971 classic, but as a living text that continues to reward close attention. With Matt Singer in the mix, expect sharp criticism, genuine passion, and at least one strong opinion about the Fizzy Lifting Drinks scene.
Related Episodes from Movie of the Year: 1971
If you enjoyed this episode, check out the rest of the Movie of the Year 1971 series:
The Last Picture Show — Bogdanovich, nostalgia, and a dying Texas town
A Clockwork Orange — Kubrick, free will, and the limits of the state
The French Connection — Friedkin,

This week's French Connection podcast episode covers one of the most thrilling and morally complicated films of 1971. Ryan, Mike, and Greg revisit The French Connection on Movie of the Year. William Friedkin's Best Picture winner changed what American cinema thought a hero could look like. In addition, this episode features a special Gene Hackman career retrospective.
Released in 1971, the film follows New York City detective Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle — based on real NYPD detective Eddie Egan, with partner Sonny Grosso inspiring the character of Russo. Doyle pursues a massive heroin operation with little regard for the law or the people around him. As a result, the film won five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor. It remains one of the defining films of the New Hollywood era.
This Movie of the Year podcast episode is one of the most anticipated of the 1971 season. Before diving in, check out our recent episodes on The Last Picture Show and A Clockwork Orange.
Joining the Taste Buds for this episode is special guest C. Craig Patterson
A screenwriter, director, and filmmaker based in Los Angeles. An alum of Columbia University, NYU's Tisch School of the Arts, and USC's School of Cinematic Arts, Patterson brings serious cinematic credentials to the table. His short film Fathead won the Cannes Film Festival Best Student Short Award and earned an NAACP Image Award nomination. His scripts have been recognized by the Sundance Screenwriters Lab, The Black List, and the Academy's Nicholl Fellowship. Patterson also directed the critically acclaimed Roy Wood Jr. comedy special Imperfect Messenger for Paramount+. With projects currently in development at Paramount and Epic Games, he is one of the most exciting emerging filmmakers working today — and exactly the kind of guest who makes a film like The French Connection worth revisiting.
The French Connection 1971 Podcast: Popeye Doyle — Hero, Antihero, or Something Worse?
The central tension of this French Connection 1971 podcast discussion is what to make of Popeye Doyle. Gene Hackman plays him as a force of nature — relentless, racist, reckless, and completely compelling. He is not a good man, and he is barely a good cop. Nevertheless, the film frames his obsession as heroic, his instincts as genius, and his victory as worth celebrating.
Ryan, Mike, and Greg dig into what Friedkin and screenwriter Ernest Tidyman were doing with Doyle. Is the film a critique of the kind of law enforcement he represents? Or is it simply in love with him? The answer is probably both. Ultimately, that ambiguity is what makes the character so difficult and so fascinating fifty years later.
The Real Detectives Behind the Story
The real detectives, Eddie Egan and Sonny Grosso, consulted on the film and even appear in small roles. Consequently, knowing the story is grounded in a real investigation makes Doyle's behavior harder to dismiss. These were not fictional excesses invented for dramatic effect, and the panel takes that seriously.
Gene Hackman won the Academy Award for Best Actor for this role, beating out Peter Finch, Walter Matthau, George C. Scott, and Topol. Furthermore, it remains one of the most celebrated performances of the 1970s. The panel uses this episode to look back at Hackman's broader career and make the case for where he stands in the pantheon.
For more on Gene Hackman's career, visit the Internet Movie Database.
William Friedkin and the New Hollywood Crime Film
Director William Friedkin approached The French Connection as a documentary-style thriller. He shot on location in New York City with handheld cameras and natural light, refusing to glamorize either the city or its characters. As a result, the film feels unlike almost anything else from 1971 — raw, kinetic, and deeply uncomfortable.
The Taste Buds explore how Friedkin's direction shaped the film's identity. Most notably, the legendary car chase under the elevated train tracks in Brooklyn is widely considered one of the greatest action sequences ever filmed. Friedkin shot it on live New York City streets without fully stopping traffic, with a camera mounted to the front of the car. For critical analysis of the chase, the Criterion Collection offers essential reading.
Friedkin After The French Connection
Just two years later, Friedkin directed The Exorcist, cementing his place as one of the defining filmmakers of the decade. The panel discusses what the two films share and what The French Connection reveals about Friedkin's sensibility. In both cases, his camera feels like it is barely keeping up with reality — and that is entirely by design.
For more on Friedkin's influence on American cinema, visit the American Film Institute.
The French Connection Podcast Discussion: Justice and Its Limits
At its core, The French Connection is about the gap between justice and the law. Popeye Doyle operates outside the rules, endangers civilians, shoots an unarmed man in the back, and ultimately fails to bring the main target to justice. Despite all of this, the film presents his pursuit not as tragedy but as the cost of doing business.
Ryan, Mike, and Greg examine what the film says about the American justice system in 1971 — a moment of profound national disillusionment. Vietnam, the civil rights movement, and the early signs of Watergate were all in the air. Meanwhile, the "good guys" in this film are not good, the "bad guys" are not caught, and the audience is asked to root for the pursuit anyway.
Race and Policing in The French Connection
Moreover, the film's racial politics are impossible to ignore. Doyle's racism is presented as character texture rather than moral failing, and the film never fully grapples with the implications of the policing it depicts. That discomfort is an important part of the conversation this week.
For historical context on the real case, visit the DEA's history of the French Connection.
Gene Hackman Best Performances: A Career Retrospective
This episode includes a special segment on Gene Hackman's best performances. The Taste Buds make their case for the defining Hackman roles and debate his greatest work. In particular, they discuss what made him such an unusual screen presence: his everyman quality, his capacity for rage, and his refusal to tell the audience how to feel about his characters.
His breakthrough came in Bonnie and Clyde in 1967, and his Oscar followed here in The French Connection. Subsequently, classics like The Conversation, Mississippi Burning, Unforgiven, and The Royal Tenenbaums cemented one of the most extraordinary bodies of work in American cinema. This segment celebrates an actor who never got quite enough credit for how good he really was.
Why The French Connection 1971 Still Matters
More than fifty years later, The French Connection remains essential viewing. Beyond its technical achievements, it functions as a moral document — capturing a specific American mood: exhausted, suspicious, and uncertain about its own institutions.
Ultimately, this French Connection podcast episode revisits the film as a living argument about power, obsession, and the stories we tell about law enforcement. It asks hard questions, and this episode doesn't let them off the hook.
Related Episodes from Movie of the Year: 1971
If you enjoyed this episode, check out the rest of the Movie of the Year 1971 series:
The Last Picture Show — Bogdanovich, nostalgia, and a dying Texas town
A Clockwork Orange — Kubrick, free will, and the limits of the state
Browse all Movie of the Year episodes

FAQ: The French Connection Podcast and Film
What is The French Connection podcast episode about?
Ryan, Mike, and Greg discuss William Friedkin's 1971 Best Picture winner. Topics include Popeye Doyle, Friedkin's direction, justice, and a Gene Hackman career retrospective.
What is The French Connection about?
It follows NYPD detective Popeye Doyle, based on real detective Eddie Egan, as he pursues a massive heroin smuggling operation using methods that are often illegal and always reckless.
Who directed The French Connection?
William Friedkin directed the 1971...