W.A.R.A. Now, what the hell is that?

Sky Riders

(1976)

(SPOILERS) In Sky Riders, fiendish terrorists have kidnapped the wife and children of wealthy industrialist Jonas Bracken (Robert Culp) and, unsurprisingly, the authorities aren’t much use getting them back. In times such as this, what you need is an estranged husband, a bit of a maverick, the kind of guy who can get things done: step in, New York cop John McClane. Or, failing him, vagabond black marketer Jim McCabe (James Coburn). If nothing else, he’ll come up with a barking mad scheme to get his (sort of) family back. And it might just work.

McCabe’s plan is to rescue Ellen Bracken (Susannah York) and her two kids (one of whom is McCabe’s) from the remote mountain monastery where they’re held by hang-gliding in on a moonlit night. McCabe has never had a lick of hang gliding experience, but it’s okay as he’s persuaded the circus troupe training him up in double quick time to come along. Quite why they are so content to pick up arms and kill people (and get killed themselves) is just one of the many pertinent questions Sky Riders fails to address.

It’s okay though, as for the most part this very definition of high concept action thriller gets by through not hang (gliding) around for long enough to debate its own silliness. Credit is due to reliable B-director Douglas Hickox (his best known picture is Theatre of Blood, but he also delivered John Wayne-in-London cop thriller Brannigan and the Zulu prequel no one asked for, Zulu Dawn) for keeping the Greek locations scenic and the pace from flagging. Still, it’s that kind of pre-blockbuster era action picture that devolves into a climax with lots of random people shooting at each other (including, for some reason, the Greek police allowing Culp to pick up a machine gun and have a go; perhaps he slipped them a drachma or two?)

Weren’t ‘70s terrorists the worst, though? They could show up anytime, any place, anywhere, without any warning and armed with the most rudimentary of schemes and shaky of convictions. In this case the World Activist Revolutionary Army have a mission “to liberate the oppressed peoples of the world”, “fighting the tyranny of worldwide imperialism”. Which is all well and good. I suppose you have to start somewhere.

But they haven’t really though this out, certainly not their nameless leader (Werner Pochath, who looks about 12; a bit like casting Matt Smith as a terrorist mastermind, Sky Pirates could have really used a big cheese with some oomph). As it is, Pochath is thoroughly undermined as soon as he divulges his ethos to Ellen (they must use force against force, commit murder for murder and allow no compromise) who gives him a slow clap.

Still, fair dues to them, they’re just doing their best. Which is why, after demanding $5 million from Culp, they proceed to add a whole arsenal of weapons to their list. They have some semblance of order though, what with their pretty cool hideout (also used in For Your Eyes Only) and matching t-shirts.

If the terrorists are unimposing lot (Jason Voorhees hockey masks aside), so are the circus freaks. And, if you’re casting Robert Culp, you could at least make use of his sense of humour. Having both Coburn and Culp in a movie is a bit of a coup, but no one capitalises on it (initially there’s suspicion Culp might have been involved, but once the set up is established there aren’t any surprises in store). No less than six writers worked on the picture, which you’d never believe to look at it.

Besides Culp, there’s crooner Charles Aznavour as the obstructive Greek Inspector Nikolidis and cameos from Harry Andrews and Kenneth Griffith as chums of McCabe. The latter is particularly good value, ribbing McCabe over how Ellen looks ten years younger now she’s left him (“What a difference a good marriage can make, aye McCabe?”) He also evidences why kidnappers should always photograph their captives against a black backdrop.

The suggestion, left at that, is that Ellen was the unwitting goods in a transaction between Jonas and Jim; the former gets the girl in exchange for a 5-year sentence commuted to 2 for the latter. It’s not dwelt upon though, and while it’s clear that Ellen sees Jim as a real man, he’s still, come the last scene –as a real man would be – left on his own, shot up, and assuring her there’s no hurry for his kid know his true identity. So instead, Coburn makes chums with Aznavour as he’s stretchered out. Very Casablanca.

York wasn’t getting a huge number of memorable roles by this point in the ‘70s, albeit The Shout and Superman’s mum were just around the corner. She’s a very yummy mummy in this, and is very much in the Bonnie Bedelia mode of not putting up with any shit (but still need a man to save her). It’s easy to see why Coburn would go chasing after her and can’t even be mad he doesn’t get her back (“You always did put me through hell, baby”).

Mostly though, this is Coburn’s show. He’s a guy with a million dollar grin (after the introductory scene, he doesn’t flash it until past the half hour mark, though; things are that serious!) and struts white flared suits like nobody’s business. Indeed, at one point he’s wearing a shirt with collars the size of pterodactyl wings, and it looks like the most natural ensemble in the world. McCabe’s so damn rugged, he quips “I’ll walk back” after the last hang glider escapes the monastery without him. He doesn’t of course; he leaps on the landing skid of a helicopter and then gets shot full of lead. What a guy!

You can see Sky Riders in all its glory on YouTube (in widescreen too), often the sign of something even the studios can’t be bothered to defend, but it’s actually not a bad movie. Undemanding, daft, but with a solid cast and a director who knows what he’s doing. The big sell of the hang gliding stunts is probably the least of its attractions, but it’s a reminder of an all round happier time, when terrorists could be snuffed out just like that and the world had James Coburn on speed dial to get it out of a tight spot.

Your Mickey Mouse is one big stupid dope!

Enemy Mine (1985) (SPOILERS) The essential dynamic of Enemy Mine – sworn enemies overcome their differences to become firm friends – was a well-ploughed one when it was made, such that it led to TV Tropes assuming, since edited, that it took its title from an existing phrase (Barry Longyear, author of the 1979 novella, made it up, inspired by the 1961 David Niven film The Best of Enemies ). The Film Yearbook Volume 5 opined that that Wolfgang Petersen’s picture “ lacks the gritty sauciness of Hell in the Pacific”; John Boorman’s WWII film stranded Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune on a desert island and had them first duking it out before becoming reluctant bedfellows. Perhaps germanely, both movies were box office flops.

If I do nothing else, I will convince them that Herbert Stempel knows what won the goddam Academy Award for Best goddam Picture of 1955. That’s what I’m going to accomplish.

Quiz Show (1994) (SPOILERS) Quiz Show perfectly encapsulates a certain brand of Best Picture nominee: the staid, respectable, diligent historical episode, a morality tale in response to which the Academy can nod their heads approvingly and discerningly, feeding as it does their own vainglorious self-image about how times and attitudes have changed, in part thanks to their own virtuousness. Robert Redford’s film about the 1950s Twenty-One quiz show scandals is immaculately made, boasts a notable cast and is guided by a strong screenplay from Paul Attanasio (who, on television, had just created the seminal Homicide: Life on the Streets ), but it lacks that something extra that pushes it into truly memorable territory.

Say hello to the Scream Extractor.

Monsters, Inc. (2001) (SPOILERS) I was never the greatest fan of Monsters, Inc. , even before charges began to be levelled regarding its “true” subtext. I didn’t much care for the characters, and I particularly didn’t like the way Pixar’s directors injected their own parenting/ childhood nostalgia into their plots. Something that just seems to go on with their fare ad infinitum. Which means the Pixars I preferred tended to be the Brad Bird ones. You know, the alleged objectivist. Now, though, we learn Pixar has always been about the adrenochrome, so there’s no going back…

Other monks will meet their deaths here. And they too will have blackened fingers. And blackened tongues.

The Name of the Rose (1986) (SPOILERS) Umberto Eco wasn’t awfully impressed by Jean Jacques-Annaud’s adaptation of his novel – or “ palimpsest of Umberto Eco’s novel ” as the opening titles announce – to the extent that he nixed further movie versions of his work. Later, he amended that view, calling it “ a nice movie ”. He also, for balance, labelled The Name of the Rose his worst novel – “ I hate this book and I hope you hate it too ”. Essentially, he was begrudging its renown at the expense of his later “ superior ” novels. I didn’t hate the novel, although I do prefer the movie, probably because I saw it first and it was everything I wanted from a medieval Sherlock Holmes movie set in a monastery and devoted to forbidden books, knowledge and opinions.

No one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.

The Matrix (1999) (SPOILERS) Twenty years on, and the articles are on the defining nature of The Matrix are piling up, most of them touching on how its world has become a reality, or maybe always was one. At the time, its premise was engaging enough, but it was the sum total of the package that cast a spell – the bullet time, the fashions, the soundtrack, the comic book-as-live-action framing and styling – not to mention it being probably the first movie to embrace and reflect the burgeoning Internet ( Hackers doesn’t really count), and subsequently to really ride the crest of the DVD boom wave. And now? Now it’s still really, really good.

All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies.

Watership Down (1978) (SPOILERS) I only read Watership Down recently, despite having loved the film from the first, and I was immediately impressed with how faithful, albeit inevitably compacted, Martin Rosen’s adaptation is. It manages to translate the lyrical, mythic and metaphysical qualities of Richard Adams’ novel without succumbing to dumbing down or the urge to cater for a broader or younger audience. It may be true that parents are the ones who get most concerned over the more disturbing elements of the picture but, given the maturity of the content, it remains a surprise that, as with 2001: A Space Odyssey (which may on the face of it seem like an odd bedfellow), this doesn’t garner a PG certificate. As the makers noted, Watership Down is at least in part an Exodus story, but the biblical implications extend beyond Hazel merely leading his fluffle to the titular promised land. There is a prevalent spiritual dimension to this rabbit universe, one very much

In a few moments, you will have an experience that will seem completely real. It will be the result of your subconscious fears transformed into your conscious awareness.

Brainstorm (1983) (SPOILERS) Might Brainstorm have been the next big thing – a ground-breaking, game-changing cinematic spectacle that had as far reaching consequences as Star Wars (special effects) or Avatar (3D) – if only Douglas Trumbull had been allowed to persevere with his patented “Showscan” process (70mm film photographed and projected at 60 frames per second)? I suspect not; one only has to look at the not-so-far-removed experiment of Ang Lee with Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk , and how that went down like a bag of cold sick, to doubt that any innovation will necessarily catch on (although Trumbull at least had a narrative hinge on which to turn his “more real than real” imagery, whereas Lee’s pretty much boiled down to “because it was there”). Brainstorm ’s story is, though, like its title, possibly too cerebral, too much concerned with the consciousness and touting too little of the cloyingly affirmative that Bruce Rubin inevitably brings to his screenplays. T

Piece by piece, the camel enters the couscous.

The Forgiven (2021) (SPOILERS) By this point, the differences between filmmaker John Michael McDonagh and his younger brother, filmmaker and playwright Martin McDonagh, are fairly clearly established. Both wear badges of irreverence and provocation in their writing, and a willingness to tackle – or take pot-shots – at bigger issues, ones that may find them dangling their toes in hot water. But Martin receives the lion’s share of the critical attention, while John is generally recognised as the slightly lesser light. Sure, some might mistake Seven Psychopaths for a John movie, and Calvary for a Martin one, but there’s a more flagrant sense of attention seeking in John’s work, and concomitantly less substance. The Forgiven is clearly aiming more in the expressly substantial vein of John’s earlier Calvary, but it ultimately bears the same kind of issues in delivery.

Maybe the dingo ate your baby.

Seinfeld 2.9: The Stranded The Premise George and Elaine are stranded at a party in Long Island, with a disgruntled hostess.

You ever heard the saying, “Don’t rob the bank across from the diner that has the best donuts in three counties”?

2 Guns (2013) (SPOILERS) Denzel Washington is such a reliable performer, that it can get a bit boring. You end up knowing every gesture or inflection in advance, whether he’s playing a good guy or a bad guy. And his films are generally at least half decent, so you end up seeing them. Even in Flight (or perhaps especially in Flight ; just watch him chugging down that vodka) where he’s giving it his Oscar-nominatable best, he seems too familiar. I think it may be because he’s an actor who is more effective the less he does. In 2 Guns he’s not doing less, but sometimes it seems like it. That’s because the last person I’d ever expect blows him off the screen; Mark Wahlberg.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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