"The Brylcreem Boys" isn't about men’s hairstyles from the nineteen forties, and there aren’t any actual boys involved in the story. Instead, it feels like a disrespectful treatment of those who experienced World War II in Europe. Canadian R.A.F. pilot Myles Keogh (Bill Campbell) and his crew are shot down over what they believe is France. They're taken prisoner and moved to an Irish prison camp. Apparently, Ireland maintained neutrality during the war, holding captured British soldiers on one side of the compound and captured Nazi soldiers on the other. Among the Nazis is Rudolph (Angus Macfayden), and both Myles and Rudolph develop feelings for local woman Mattie (Jean Butler). Before you wonder how these men could fall for Mattie while incarcerated, it's explained that prison commander O’Brien (Gabriel Byrne, who also produced this film) allows all prisoners day release passes, provided they return at night. It seems absurd, doesn’t it? Myles and Mattie, uh, discover each other’s secrets, Rudolph transforms into a genuinely kind and polite Nazi, and then a poorly planned prison escape is set in motion. The filmmakers had a fantastic premise here; it's disappointing that they wasted it on the sentimental Myles/Mattie/Rudy love triangle. An Irish prison holding British and Nazi prisoners? One character describes it as a "madhouse," and that’s what it should have been. I was hoping for something like “M*A*S*H” or “Catch-22”-style satire, but by the time the credits rolled, I would've settled for some silly, lighthearted "Hogan's Heroes"/"Major Dad"-type antics. Campbell is unremarkable; he looks decent, but isn’t given anything substantial to do. Macfayden’s portrayal of “Rudolph the Nice Nazi” fluctuates between villain and hero, then back again. Butler, who previously appeared in "Riverdance," delivers spontaneous yet perfectly executed Irish jigs unexpectedly midway through the film. William McNamara plays an irritating American movie star, and Byrne just seems defeated. The film concludes with a depressing epilogue that’s reminiscent of “American Graffiti,” leaving me feeling emotionally drained. Certainly, there are better films about Ireland ("The Quiet Man," "Cowboys & Angels," among others), but when the British escape plan relies on getting the Irish guards drunk—implying all Irish people are prone to heavy drinking—you realize one flawed idea doesn’t make a good movie. This is 80 proof of that.

Source on TMDB