No one ever really dies. Do you believe that? Well if not, for you, it's almost over now. Fortunately for Galway, one Gerry Boyle has no doubts about his own mortality.
The Guard begins with a red sports car speeding down an empty stretch of tarmac, loud music pounding out a rhythm while a cliché of young men pass around drinks and drugs.
King posers, if you will.
Thankfully, it's almost over for them. And Sergeant Boyle gets to witness their wasted lives extinguished on this nothing road as their car overturns and careers into a wall. Casually inspecting the soon to be deceased's pockets, Boyle confiscates their drugs to spare their dear mammy's from thinking too harshly of their sons. The Sergeant then takes a tab of acid for good measure, before leaving the boys to die where they lay. Now that's my idea of policing.
Not soon after this brief encounter with Galway's youth, Sergeant Boyle comes across another dead body in his district. This one definitely involved foul play as there's a bullet in the dead man's skull, as well as a pot plant in his lap.
Regrettably, this isn't the kind you can roll. It's at this time that FBI agent Wendell Everett arrives in Ireland to investigate a supposed
