Overnight

You know when you get yourself into one of those uncomfortable situations where several people are yelling at each other and you're stuck in the middle feeling awkward? That is what watching this documentary felt like.

This is a documentary seven years in the making that focuses on an arrogant, naive and very stupid bartender named Troy Duffy. Back in 1997, he literally "overnight" became the latest "rags to riches" success story in Hollywood where his script "THE BOONDOCK SAINTS" was bought by Harvey Weinstein (of Miramax Pictures) and was given the green-light to direct his own feature and provide music from his band for the soundtrack. Harvey was also considering co-owning a bar in West Hollywood with him, and it seemed like everything that Troy had worked hard for his entire life was finally coming to fruition.

Well not really. He could have had it all, but like most stupid people, he wasn't satisfied with what he was given and he demanded more.

Unlike Terry Gilliam's almost-comical "LOST IN LA MANCHA" which was plagued with natural disasters, bad scheduling, bad production and bad luck, Troy Duffy played his own hand in sending his dream project into assured failure.

For Duffy, his biggest enemy was himself. Although this documentary tries to make out Harvey Weinstein as some sort of Hollywood tyrant (which apparently isn't that far from the truth), Duffy was the one who ultimately destroyed his own career and that of his fellow band-mates who were too intimidated to stand up to him and tell him that he was going all about it the wrong way.

First of all, Duffy's biggest problem is his attitude. It's BAD. He's one of those people who not only THINKS AND KNOWS that he is RIGHT, but certainly doesn't hold back any feelings when it comes to telling other people that they are wrong (even if they're not).

Watching Duffy mingle with D-list celebrities like Paul Rubens, Patrick Swayze, Jerry O'Connell and Mark Wahlberg was nothing more than deliciously amusing, showing both sides of the industry kissing serious ass.

Even for those who don't even know what this documentary is about, watching him destroy his dream and career is inevitable from the first few minutes when you get to explore his vulgar personality and character. He went into Hollywood with no idea and basically left barely any the wiser.

The people you feel most sorry for are his band-mates. Although they also had a part to play with the miserable launch of their so-called music career, watching Troy sink them as he tries to pull his imaginary strings in the music industry is a notch below humiliating, not to mention embarrassing.

The worst part was seeing him trade barbs with that slimy excuse of a man who headed the casting agency, watching them at the Cannes Film Festival revel in the value of the almighty dollar before getting any of their facts straight first.

When it said that their album had sold 690 copies in six months (yes you read correctly, 690), there were a few awkward laughs in the audience. I don't think anyone in the audience really knew what to make of Duffy's actions. I felt not only embarrassment for him, but also disgust. He has quite a mouth on him and is not afraid to use it. One scene in particular shows him mouthing off in front his mother (who doesn't seem to be the least bit phased by it), and another scene showing him screaming into the speaker-phone about accusations of being called a liar. Watching it will really make your skin crawl.

It's hard to say as to who the documentary was trying to prove who the bigger tyrant was - Duffy or Harvey Weinstein. After all, Harvey has the comfort and leisure of being that way as he is a self-made man. Duffy on the other hand isn't.

There is one bizarre scene in "OVERNIGHT" that seemed like it came out of nowhere. It involved the premiere of Duffy's movie at a tiny cinema and his 'attempted' hit-and-run with an automobile that occurred outside. It's almost as if they tried to imply that Harvey Weinstein had ordered a hit on him or something, which only made Duffy look even more stupid.

While the conclusion of the documentary shows that the only people who stood by him - his friends, the people he ended up alienating now working in construction or manual labor, you can't help but exit the screening with a bad taste in your mouth and ponder the idea as to whether he has learned anything from all of this.

There is no question as to whether Duffy has any talent - obviously he does as there seems to be a cult following to the movie "THE BOONDOCK SAINTS". However, whether he has learned anything from his experience in BOTH the music and film industry is doubtful. Time will tell with the release of his next project, a sequel to "THE BOONDOCK SAINTS".

My Rating - 9 out of 10

When his script for action thriller The Boondock Saints got picked up by Miramax, Troy Duffy found himself going very rapidly from an unknown barman in West Hollywood to being the hot new property in the movie business. Not only that but his agency manages to use this heat to wrangle Duffy money for the sale of his script, the permission to direct the film and a recording deal for his band to work on the soundtrack; it is the dream opportunity presented to Duffy, his family and friends and it is his to embrace or ruin.

Having not seen Boondock Saints for several years I have not been able to review it but I do recall that it was OK without being anything that special. What I didn't know at the time was the story behind the film, which is far more interesting than the film and serves as a good cautionary tale about the nature of fame and Hollywood politics. Well, I suppose it is actually more about Troy Duffy himself and is more a warning about how you have to play the game to get ahead. It is a fascinating and depressing tale because it shows Troy going from captain at the start, to immediately going below decks and scuppering his own ship. There is a quote at the end of the movie from Albert Goldman about how fame is a revealer rather than a creator and indeed that is true in this case. At the start Duffy is pretty full of himself and being made the centre of everything just makes this worse and he becomes more and more of an arrogant pr1ck who treats everyone around him like he is doing them a favour and they should be glad to be in his presence – and this applies from Weinstein himself right down to Troy's bandmates. And this is the focus of the film – one man's shocking ability to take a goose laying golden eggs and p1ssing it all away.

It is fascinating stuff and it is hard not to feel anything but sympathy for Duffy's friends, some of whom struggle to pay their rent while Troy pockets $300,000 for his script. That he immediately sets himself above them and refuses to give them a break in the same way he got one is a shocking condemnation of the man. I suppose it is interesting to think how we would react in the same situation but it was hard for me to imagine being such a jerk as was shown here. It could have been a stronger documentary by bringing more insight into the political games played within Hollywood or the wrangles behind every film, but in fairness Duffy is such an architect of his won downfall that Montana and Smith just seems to let their material do the talking.

Overall this is not a great documentary but it is a fascinating one. It could have been stronger in regards insight and comment but it is rare to see someone so completely destroy a brilliant opportunity simply by the power of their own arrogance. For this alone the film is well worth seeing and is engaging and interesting.

Troy Duffy is an idiot. Just watch Overnight. In it he bullies film executives, record producers, band members and friends. But even worse than this, he thinks he's some sort of genius. He thinks he's a great musician and filmmaker.

Validating Duffy's delusion is the fact that Miramax buys his script for The Boondock Saints. Thinking he's the next Tarantino, they give him $300,000 for the script, they hand him the reigns to direct the movie (with a $15m budget), they allow him to produce the soundtrack with his band, he gets to approve casting and is allowed final cut, and the final part of the deal is that Miramax will buy his bar (prior to getting into film, he's a bartender and bouncer). It's a great deal. It's an amazing deal. It's a deal that's out of this world. Only a moron could screw it up.

Well, Troy Duffy is that moron. Given this great deal, he proceeds to abuse and alienate everyone around him. So much so that a film that initially starts out as a loving document to his talents ends up being a character assassination.

One of the first things we hear from Duffy's lips is that friendship is the most important thing in the world to him. Therefore one could assume that, despite the rough edges, he's an honourable guy. Nothing could be further from the truth. In one ball-shriving scene he refuses to pay his friends who had operated for a long time as the managers of his band. He says they don't deserve any money. His friends then point out all the time they spent managing the band – all the effort they put into it. Duffy then changes his mind and says that they do deserve the money. But at the same time he says he's still not going to give it to them. This he says to people who are in financial problems because of him. People who have broken their back for him.

But this actually isn't the first record deal that the band receives. Earlier on Maverick Records sign them up sight unseen. But just when you're slapping your head at the stupidity of Madonna's label, Duffy messes up and annoys them. He then rants and raves and says the label is scared. He says they're scared of how good the brood are. What the hell? If Duffy is right then he's saying that the label are scared of making lots of money? Yeah, makes perfect sense.

But eventually the band get signed to Atlantic Records, which leads to the argument over money with the former band managers (who, incidentally, are the makers of this documentary). The moment when the band is signing their contract and receiving their money in cash is pathetic. They're like dogs begging for scraps.

But thankfully the album has a happy ending. They only sell 690 copies…after being in stores for six months.

And yet earlier in the film, when they're recording, Duffy wonders why his fellow band members haven't been coming up to him and shaking his hand for securing the deal. He even says that the album isn't a group effort. He says it's all down to him – without him, there's nothing. So surely that means that the album's failure is his and his alone? Maybe his fellow band members should line up and take turns punching him in the face.

But Duffy's film fares just as well as his album. It's dumped in five theatres for one week and makes $25,000. It's pathetic even for him.

However, I'm sure Duffy would have lots of explanations for this. You see, after getting a great deal with Miramax, he proceeds to alienate them to such an extent with his bitching and moaning that they pull out. Therefore the film is financed independently. Of course this doesn't concern Duffy, who says that when the film is made and Miramax want back in, they can pay their way back in. But when it comes to selling the film, nobody wants a part of it. Most of the time I'd be appalled that a filmmaker could be blacklisted and that the industry would conspire against him, but here it makes me happy. Duffy is man who was given a great chance to prove himself. All he had to do was shut his mouth and get on with things. Instead he acted like a child and tried to throw his weight around. Hell, at one point, before he's even shot a foot of film or recorded one note of his album, he says that he's gone straight from a bartender and surpassed everyone – he's already right at the top. Only an idiot could think that way – don't you have to have produced something first to be at the top? Therefore the film's awful distribution deal had me grinning like a loon.

I'm also kind of amused by the way the makers of the documentary try and screw Duffy over. In one scene we see Duffy bemoan his ability to find a decent girl – he just wants to find a nice girl he can settle down with. We then cut to some sleazy footage of a drunk Duffy getting girls to show him their breasts. The film never tries to be objective and is all the more entertaining for it.

Unfortunately, though, there is a black cloud that hangs over me. The Boondock Saints became a cult hit. There are many people who love it. But just when I feel low I remember that Duffy isn't a profit participant in the cable and DVD sales – he just got a lump sum of money. Therefore Duffy doesn't make a cent out of the film's success in the home market. How brilliant is that?

This is not just a fantastic story; the film is beautifully produced. You can't pull your eyes away from it, just like a burning building, simply because you cannot believe this is non-fiction. Tony and Mark endure so much more than normal humans should ever endure from a so-called friend for the duration of their story, and it is all captured on film. However it is they who get the last laugh. I was so amazed that I saw it twice. I look forward to seeing your next work. Be it another documentary or not, the editing and production of "Overnight" has turned me into a lifelong fan of its filmmakers, and a lifelong head-shaker in the direction of Troy Duffy.

If Bernardo Bertolucci, the director of TRAGEDY OF A RIDICULOUS MAN, had directed OVERNIGHT, he might have titled it COMEUPPANCE OF AN EGOTISTICAL MAN. That egotistical man is Troy Duffy, a bartender and aspiring screenwriter/director/musician from New England who became the star of his own real-life Cinderella story. THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, Duffy's original Boston-set script about two Irish brothers-turned-vigilantes, was bought by Miramax's Harvey Weinstein, who sweetened the deal by letting Duffy direct and score the film as well as buying Duffy's tavern. Alas, Duffy's cockiness proved to be outright arrogance as he began making demands before production began on either the film or the album, and this Cinderella Man's coach turned back into a pumpkin. Even Duffy's brother Taylor and his longtime friends come in for harsh treatment from the not-so-wunderkind, as he keeps expecting them to work their butts off despite their funds dwindling to the point that some of them are on the verge of being evicted. By the end of the film, almost all of The Brood Syndicate, as they call themselves, have gone back to the kind of manual labor jobs they thought they'd left behind once Miramax came calling, and Duffy is a Hollywood pariah. In addition to Duffy's egotism, his naïveté contributed to his downward spiral. Surely he'd spent enough time in L.A. at that point to have heard about Weinstein's tendency to snap up movie properties and then either put them in turnaround or leave them gathering dust on the shelf (didn't he ever pick up issues of VARIETY, THE Hollywood REPORTER, etc.?). Moreover, Mr. I Know More Than the Guys Who've Been in the Film Business for Years neglected to include broadcast and home video rights in his William Morris contract, so despite THE BOONDOCK SAINTS eventually overcoming its pitiful 5-theater release to become a cult favorite on home video, Duffy doesn't make a penny off it. Don't miss the Albert Goldman quote at the end about how fame doesn't change a person, but instead acts as a "truth drug" that reveals the person's true character. Granted, the directors of OVERNIGHT are two of Duffy's former friends from The Brood Syndicate, but they swear they actually left out footage that would have made Duffy look even worse. I suppose Duffy is lucky there isn't a Director's Cut of OVERNIGHT -- angry mobs would be chasing him down with flaming torches! :-)