'Breslin and Hamill: Deadline Artists,' Jan. 28, HBO

NEW YORK (CNS) -- The subjects of HBO's wonderful, thoroughly engaging documentary "Breslin and Hamill: Deadline Artists" -- journalists Pete Hamill and Jimmy Breslin (1928-2017) -- were taught the rules of good writing by nuns.

"Concrete nouns, active verbs" was one of the sisters' guidelines, as Hamill recalls during the profile, which premieres Monday, Jan. 28, 8-10 p.m. EST.

In addition to tracing the lives and careers of these two quintessential Irish-Americans, the film also chronicles the end of the "muscular journalism" the men practiced in what Hamill calls "the Lost City of New York" -- a bygone urban setting they themselves embodied.

Producers and directors Jonathan Alter (a former "Newsweek" columnist), John Block and Steve McCarthy employ vintage images of passengers on subway trains to amplify these themes. While contemporary riders constantly monitor their smartphones, travelers from a previous era immersed themselves in the New York Daily News and the New York Post, papers associated with both men.

Commentary from notable fellow journalists, policemen, famous actors, politicians and especially family members informs the narrative. Additionally, archival film footage, wonderfully evocative photographs, Wendy Blackstone's alternatively upbeat and wistful jazz score as well as actor Michael Rispoli's uncanny recitations of Breslin's prose all enliven it.

Filmed two years prior to Breslin's death of pneumonia, revelatory, affecting interviews with the writers particularly distinguish the program.

Breslin's father, also named James, left the family's home in the New York City borough of Queens to run an errand one day in 1936 -- and never returned. Raised by his emotionally distant and troubled mother, Frances, who once attempted suicide in front of him, Jimmy, according to Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times columnist Dan Barry, got "lost in the newspapers."

Breslin's journalistic career began at 16, when he found work as a copy editor, earning $18 a week.

In a move that broke his mother Anne's heart, Hamill dropped out of high school in 1951 when he, too, was 16. He went to Mexico to become a painter. But, having failed as an artist, he turned to writing.

Growing up in the Park Slope neighborhood of the New York City borough of Brooklyn, Hamill was the oldest of seven children. Anne significantly influenced his social consciousness and his views on subjects like poverty and racism.

Pete's younger brother, 68-year-old Denis, also a Daily News columnist, says of Anne: "She was a Catholic, a devout Catholic, but better than that, she was a good Christian. She was an early supporter of (the Rev.) Martin Luther King. We weren't allowed to use any racist terms. You got hit with a wet dishrag. Poverty was not a sin. It wasn't to be condemned. It was to be fought."

Breslin shared Hamill's profound empathy for the disadvantaged, summing up his approach to his work this way: "Just go to any neighborhood where the poor live and tell the truth about what you see."

Despite having similar roots and worldviews, the men nonetheless differed stylistically and temperamentally, according to the documentarians. In Alter's view, "Pete had almost no enemies, Jimmy had more than a few."

"Jimmy," moreover, "would sweat out every word," according to former Daily News editor Sam Roberts. "But Pete would dash out a column."

The two were seen by many as rivals, even when they both wrote for the Daily News in the 1970s. Hamill takes a different view: "I didn't feel a rivalry. I was a big fan," he says.

Strong violence is occasionally portrayed in the film, which also deals with such challenging subjects as gang rape. Somewhat predictably, "Breslin and Hamill" also showcases strong, colorful language -- though the saltiness doesn't feel overdone.

These elements weigh in favor of adult viewership, though they are offset by the program's edifying impact. As a result, parents may consider allowing mature teens to watch.

The documentarians show great admiration for the writers, but they also confront the controversies that marked their legendary careers. In 1990, Breslin directed racial slurs at Korean-American reporter Ji-Yeon Yuh, who had criticized his work. Two years later, Abe Hirschfeld, publisher of the New York Post, ignominiously fired Hamill as the paper's editor.

There were personal struggles as well. Recovering alcoholic Hamill quit drinking in 1972 because he "had broken too many things." As for Breslin, he not only had to cope with the death of his first wife but with the untimely loss of two daughters.

Eventually, Breslin publicly broke with the Catholic Church, in part because of the clergy sex abuse scandal. The church's stance on various social issues was another factor.

The image that best captures this pleasing and poignant show's effect is the sight of Hamill, his arm around Breslin, singing the Sinatra classic "Nice and Easy." That moment encapsulates the appeal of a program viewers will be reluctant to see end.

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Byrd is a guest reviewer for Catholic News Service.