Beers, Blarney, Bullets & Bloodshed

As someone who’s much fonder of beer than he probably should be, it’s fair to say that there are precious few things I enjoy more than settling down in one of New York City’s many distinctive Irish pubs for a pint or ….five. Unless, of course, that day happens to be St. Patrick’s Day, in which case even the most tenuously authentic Irish bars become slavishly overrun with hordes of pugnacious, malodorous yahoos in varying states of cripplingly unsubtle inebriation, hell bent on reinforcing every conceivable negative Gaelic stereotype.

As I’ve expressed numerous times over the years on this weblog, despite the fact that I’m half-Irish on my mother’s side, I find the American celebration of St. Patrick’s day to be pretty contemptible. But y’know, blah blah blah, and pour me another Guinness, boys.

Below please find the very shooty denouement of one of my favorite films, “State of Grace.” Loosely based on “The Westies,” T.J. English’s awesome history of the Irish Mob in Hell’s Kitchen, “State of Grace” pits Sean Penn as a reformed Irish gangster-turned-cop who goes undercover to bust up Ed Harris’ emerald crime ring. Gary Oldman also features prominently as an endearingly drunken and violent loose cannon.

This is the final showdown between Penn and Harris, all goin’ down on St. Patrick’s Day. Here’s what I don’t understand, though: If it’s St. Patrick’s Day …. why is the bar so empty?