In 1980’s Bronco Billy, Clint Eastwood plays Billy McCoy.
Billy is an aging cowboy, a trick-shooter who owns Bronco Billy’s Wild West, a traveling circus that has definitely seen better days. Bronco Billy and his friends travel the country, going from small town to small town and putting on a show. Billy is definitely the star and the highlight of each show is him shooting balloons and tossing a knife while his female assistant is strapped on a revolving disk. Unfortunately, Billy’s latest assistant flinches and gets a knife in her leg. Billy needs a new assistant and, wouldn’t you know it, Antoinette Lily (Sondra Locke) needs a job!
Antoinette is a runaway bride. She married John Arlington (Geoffrey Lewis), not because she loved him but because she needed to get married by the time she turned 30 or she would lose her inheritance. After the ceremony but before the wedding night, Antoinette fled. The police assume that John murdered her and promptly arrest him. John, suspecting that his wife is still alive, pleads insanity so that he can avoid the electric chair.
As Billy’s assistant, Antoinette challenges the way that Billy has always done the show, often to such an extent that you really have to wonder why she sticks around. Since this is a Clint Eastwood film, there a bar brawl where Billy rescues her from being assaulted by a couple of rednecks. Unfortunately, Antoinette’s arrival coincides with a string of accidents and other unfortunate incidents. The other members of the show start to suspect that Antoinette might be bad luck. Myself, I’m not superstitious and I don’t think that people can bring bad luck. I think people make their own luck. However, it’s hard to overlook the fact that Antoinette finds out that her husband is facing the death penalty due to her disappearance and her reaction is to basically shrug it off. Sondra Locke gives a rather flat performance was Antoinette, suggesting none of the quirkiness necessary to make her anything more than a very childish and very self-centered person. Antoinette is a role that demands the eccentricity of a young Sissy Spacek or Shelley Duvall or even Beverly D’Angelo, who did such a good job in Every Which Way But Loose. Sondra Locke gives a boring performance and it drags down the film.
That said, there is a lot to like about Bronco Billy. In many ways, this film feels like Clint Eastwood’s take on a Robert Altman film. The plot is episodic and casual and the best scenes are the ones the emphasize the members of the circus as being a family of misfits. (Indeed, one reason why Locke’s performance feels so jarringly wrong is because both she and Antoinette never seem to be interested in the other members of the show.) Billy may be their leader and their main attraction but every member of the show plays a role in keeping Billy’s Wild West alive. Scotman Crothers, Sam Bottoms, Bill McKinney, Dan Vadis, and Sierra Pecheur all give likable performances that bring the film’s world to life. The film becomes about more than just the aging Billy trying to find his place in a changing world. It’s a film about a group of people who have come together to form their own community and, by the end of the movie, it’s a community that you can’t help but love. In many ways, this film features both Eastwood the director and Eastwood the actor at his gentlest and most humanistic. Billy and his show bring the old west to a new America and, in the end, you’re happy they did.
In 1978’s Every Which Way But Loose, Clint Eastwood plays Philo Beddoe.
Philo’s an ordinary guy with beautiful hair and a way with throwing punches. He’s a truck driver. He enjoys a cold beer. He enjoys country music. He makes some extra money by taking part in bare-knuckle brawls. Everyone says that he could be the next Tank Murdock, a legendary fighter. Philo is just a simple, blue collar guy who lives in a small house, next door to his best friend Orville (Geoffrey Lewis) and Orville’s profanity-loving mother (Ruth Gordon). Philo also owns an orangutan named Clyde. He saved Clyde from being sent to live in a “desert zoo.”
(Actually, now that I think about it, most blue collar guys don’t own monkeys but whatever. Clyde’s cute and Eastwood’s Eastwood.)
When Philo meets a country singer named Lynn Halsey-Taylor (Sondra Locke), he is immediately smitten. When Lynn disappears and leaves Philo a cryptic note, Philo decides to go looking for her. Clyde, Orville, and Philo hit the road. Along the way, Orville meets and picks up a woman named Echo (Beverly D’Angelo). This is a road movie so, of course, Clyde, Orville, Philo, and Echo have their adventures on the way to Colorado. They end running afoul both a corrupt cop and a gang of buffoonish bikers. Philo enters a fight whenever they need money and one occasionally gets the feeling that Eastwood took this role to show off the fact that, for someone approaching 50, he still looked good without a shirt on. And good for him! Because, seriously, Clint does look good in this movie….
I have to admit that, for all of my attempts at sophistication, my roots are in the country and I’ve traveled down enough dirt roads that I find it hard to resist a good redneck story. And really, there aren’t many films that as proudly and unashamedly redneck than EveryWhich Way But Loose. It’s a film that has a laid back, take-it-as-it-comes vibe to it. Philo may be looking for Lynn but he seems to be okay with taking a few detour along the way. There’s no real sense of urgency to any part of the movie. Instead, EveryWhichWay But Loose was made for people who like a cold beer at the end of the day and who find Ruth Gordon to be hilarious when she curses. Myself, I don’t drink. That’s one part of the country lifestyle that passed me over. But I did enjoy seeing Ruth Gordon cuss out the Nazi biker gang.
Eastwood, Lewis, and D’Angelo have a likable chemistry and the monkey’s cute. Unfortunately, Sondra Locke isn’t particularly well-cast in the role of Lynn. (Considering that she was in a relationship with Eastwood, it’s amazing how little chemistry they have in this movie.) As I watched the film, it occurred to me that it probably would have worked better if Locke and D’Angelo had switched roles. Locke’s character is supposed to be a femme fatale type but she gives a boring performance and, as a result, the revelation that Philo has misjudged her doesn’t really carry any emotional weight.
That said, this film features some beautiful shots of the wilderness, a charming romance between Lewis and D’Angelo, and a shirtless Clint Eastwood beating folks up. That’s more than enough to please this secret country girl.
Oh wait, sorry. This is not a Dirty Harry movie. It sure feels like a Dirty Harry movie but it’s not. And really, the character that Clint Eastwood plays in this movie, Phoenix Detective Ben Shockley, is different from Dirty Harry Callahan. Shockley is a cynical (and single) detective who does things his own way. He’s got that in common with Callahan. But Shockley is also an alcoholic and that’s something that Harry would never allow himself to become. Harry may be unpredictable but he’s disciplined and he’s always in control. The other big difference is that Shockley has a little more faith in his fellow cops than Harry does. As a result, Shockley gets set-up in a trap that Harry would have seen coming from miles away.
Shockley is sent to Las Vegas to pick up a prostitute named Augustina and bring her back to Arizona. Augustina — who goes by Gus — is played by Sondra Locke. This was the second film that Eastwood and Locke made together. As a result of preparing for today’s Eastwood marathon, I watched all of the Eastwood/Locke films. The Gauntlet features Locke’s best performance opposite Eastwood. (She was good in The Outlaw Josey Wales but her role was also fairly small and simple.) As opposed to her later films, Locke actually has a good deal of romantic chemistry when Eastwood in this film and, even more importantly, she actually seems invested in the role. She plays Gus as being a feisty asskicker. It doesn’t matter that she’s in jail or that she’s handcuffed or that she’s been escorted to another state. Gus isn’t going to let anyone tell her what to do. It’s impossible not to root for both her and Shockley in this film.
Of course, it turns out that Shockley has been set up. Phoenix Police Commissioner Blakelock (William Prince) and District Attorney John Feyderspiel (Michael Cavanaugh) both have their own reasons for not wanting Gus to make it to Phoenix and they’re both willing to sacrifice Shockley to get to her. They assumed that Shockley, being an alcoholic, would be easy to defeat. Did they not consider that, alcoholic or not, Ben Shockley is played by Clint Eastwood? Every attempt that is made to stop him just makes Shockley all the more determined to get Gus to Phoenix. The film becomes a particularly violent take on It Happened One Night, going as far as to have Gus and Shockley take over a bus on their way to Phoenix.
Ah, the bus. The Gauntlet climaxes with a scene in which literally thousands of bullets are fired into a bus that Shockley and Gus are driving through Phoenix. It’s an exciting sequence, one that’s so gloriously over-the-top that you can’t help but feel that Eastwood was poking fun at his own persona. At the same time, the sequence also works as a commentary on the blind obedience necessary for an authoritarian to come to power. The cops who have lined up to shoot at the bus open fire when they’re ordered to, without asking why a bus has to be riddled with bullets. Eastwood manages to mix a healthy dose of paranoia with his satire.
Though the plot (much like the bus) is riddled with holes, The Gauntlet‘s an entertaining film. Between Eastwood and Locke’s chemistry and the explosive action sequences, The Gauntlet is a film you can’t look away from.
Towards the end of 1976’s The Outlaw Josey Wales, Josey (played by Clint Eastwood) says, “I guess we all died a little in that damned war.”
He’s referring to the American Civil War and the film leaves you with no doubt that Wales knew what he was talking about. A farmer living in Missouri, Josey Wales wasn’t involved in the Civil War until a group of guerillas, the Redlegs, raided his home and killed his family. Seeking vengeance, Wales joined the Bushwackers, a group of Confederate guerillas that were led by the infamous “Bloody Bill” Anderson. After Anderson’s death and the South’s surrender, Senator James H. Lane (Frank Schofield) offers amnesty to any of the Bushwackers willing to surrender and declare their loyalty to the United States. Fletcher (John Vernon), the leader of the surviving Bushwackers, thinks it’s a good idea and his men eventually agree to surrender.
Everyone except for Josey Wales.
Fletcher tells Josey that he’ll be an outlaw and that Lane will send his men to capture and execute him. “I reckon so,” Josey Wales replies. It’s not that Josey was particularly a fan of the Confederate cause. Instead, having lost his family and his home and having seen hundreds of men killed, Josey no longer cares. He’s got a death wish, something that becomes apparent when he later sneaks over to Lane’s camp and discovers that the leader of the Redlegs, Terrill (Bill McKinney), has been made a captain in the Union Army. The surrendering Bushwackers, with the exception of Fletcher and a young man named Jamie (Sam Bottoms), are gunned down as they swear allegiance to the United States. Joey springs into action, hijacking a Gatling gun and mowing down soldiers. It’s a suicidal move and Josey appears to be willing to die, until he sees that Jamie has been wounded. Josey and Jamie go on the run, pursued by soldiers and bounty hunters.
It sounds like the start of typical Clint Eastwood film and, make no mistake about it, The Outlaw Josey Wales features everything that most people have come to expect from Eastwood. Josey Wales is an expert shot, often firing two guns while charging forward on his horse. Josey has a way of words, explaining the purpose of getting “plain man dog mean” and telling a bounty hunter that there are better ways to make a living. The main difference, though, is that Josey is no longer seeking revenge. He’s lost his family and his home and he knows nothing is going to bring them back. He sought revenge during the Civil War and saw so many people killed that, much like Jimmy Stewart in Broken Arrow, he just wants to disappear from civilization.
The problem is that men like Lane and Terrill have no intention of letting Josey Wales disappear. The sociopathic Terrill sees it as almost being his God-given duty to kill Josey Wales and anyone else that he dislikes. The bounty hunters are also after Josey Wales. As Fletcher explains it, bounty hunting is the only way that many former soldiers can make money and feed their families. As Josey moves through the southwest, his legend grows. Every town that Josey stops in, he hears stories about the growing number of men that he has supposedly killed.
Josey also discovers that he can’t do it all alone. He soon finds himself as a part of a new family, a collection of misfits that don’t have a home in Senator Lane’s America. Lone Waite (Chief Dan George) is an elderly Cherokee man who suggests that Josey head for Mexico. Little Moonlight (Geraldine Keams) is a Navajo woman who Josey rescues from two bounty hunters. Sarah Turner (Paula Trueman) and her granddaughter, Laura Lee (Sondra Locke), are rescued from Comancheros. Josey negotiates the release of two of Sarah’s ranch hands and befriends Chief Ten Bears (Will Sampson) while doing so. Slowly, Josey comes out of his shell and starts to embrace life once again. Josey goes from searching for death to searching for peace.
It’s one of Eastwood’s best films, ending on a note of not violence but instead sad regret. It’s not only a portrait of a man learning to embrace life but it’s also a portrait of a country trying to figure out how to come back together after the bloody savagery of the Civil War. Some, like Fletcher and Josey, want to move on. Others, like Terrill, don’t have an identity beyond fighting and killing. Eastwood gives a good performance but, as a director, he gives every member of the cast a chance to shine. If you only know John Vernon as Dean Wormer from Animal House, his sad-eyed performance here will be a revelation.
Originally, The Outlaw Josey Wales was meant to be directed by Phillip L. Kaufman but Eastwood felt that Kaufman was taking too long to set up his shots and worrying about details that really didn’t matter. Reportedly, while Kaufman was away from the set, spending hours searching for a historically-correct beer bottle to be used in a bar scene, Eastwood directed the scene himself and then convinced producer Robert Daley to fire Kaufman and allow Eastwood to direct the film. (Kaufman also objected to the script’s anti-government subtext but seriously, that’s pretty much the subtext of every film that Eastwood has ever been involved with.) The DGA later instituted a rule that, on productions in which the director was fired, the replacement could not be a member of his crew or an actor in the cast but that was too late to help out Kaufman.
(Rumor has it that another reason Kaufman was fired was because he and Eastwood both “liked” Sondra Locke. This was the first of six films that Eastwood and Locke would do together.)
To be honest, I think it worked out in the film’s favor. It’s a little surprising that someone other than Eastwood was ever considered as director to be begin with, so perfectly does the story and the lead character fit with Eastwood’s persona. Eastwood captures both the beauty of the untouched land and also the bloody violence of combat. In many ways, this film almost feels like a prequel to Unforgiven. The Outlaw Josey Wales is Eastwood at his best.
1974’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot opens with two men, one young and one middle-aged, facing a moment of truth.
The younger of the two is Lightfoot (Jeff Bridges), a wild and hyperactive rich kid who is in his 20s and who steals a corvette right off of a used car lot. The other man is simply known by his nickname, Thunderbolt (Clint Eastwood). When we first see Thunderbolt, he’s giving a sermon in a small Montana church. When a gun-wielding man steps into the church and promptly starts firing at Thunderbolt, he takes off running. Pursued by his attacker, Thunderbolt runs through a field and just happens to jump onto Lightfoot’s speeding corvette. Lightfoot runs over the Thunderbolt’s pursuer. Thunderbolt slips into the car and Lightfoot drives on for a bit. Lightfoot is excited and talkative. Thunderbolt is more concerned with popping his shoulder back into its socket. A stop at a gas station leads to the men stealing someone else’s car.
And so it goes for a good deal of the movie. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is a road movie, the majority of which is taken up with scenes of the two men just hanging out. Thunderbolt and Lightfoot take an instant liking to each other. When Lightfoot picks up a prostitute (Catherine Bach), he makes sure to ask that she bring along a friend for Thunderbolt. When a criminal punches Lightfoot, Thunderbolt is quick to punch back. “That’s for the kid,” Thunderbolt says. That’s the type of friendship that they have. Jeff Bridges is handsome and full of energy as Lightfoot and Clint Eastwood smiles more in this film than I think I’ve seen him smile in any other film. For once, Eastwood is not playing a perpetually grumpy stranger or a supercop. Instead, he’s just a blue collar guy who enjoys having a friend to travel with.
Eventually, Thunderbolt and Lightfoot meet up with two of Thunderbolt’s former associates. Red (George Kennedy) is a brutal brawler who, it is suggested, served with Thunderbolt in the Korean War. Goody (Geoffrey Lewis) is a gentle soul who takes orders from Red but still can’t bring himself to shoot anyone, no matter how much Red demands that he pull the trigger. Red and Goody have always assumed that Thunderbolt stole the loot from a bank robbery that they pulled off. Thunderbolt explains that he didn’t steal the money. He just got arrested after hiding it. Lightfoot suggests that maybe the four of them could pull off another bank heist….
Kennedy and Lewis are perfectly cast as the two criminals who end up working with Thunderbolt and Lightfoot. In many ways, the relationship between Red and Goody mirrors the relationship between our lead characters. The main difference is that Red is sadistic and quick to loose his temper, whereas Thunderbolt controls his emotions and tries not to hurt anyone while committing his crimes. Lightfoot looks up to Thunderbolt and Goody looks up to Red. Again, the difference is that Thunderbolt actually cares about Lightfoot, whereas Red is incapable of truly caring about anyone but himself. Eastwood, Bridges, Kennedy, and Lewis make quite a team and it’s hard not to worry about all four of them, especially when the film takes an unexpectedly dramatic turn during its third act.
I really wasn’t expecting Thunderbolt and Lightfoot to make me cry but the final thirty minutes of the film brought tears to my eyes as what started out as a buddy comedy turned into a tragedy. (I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’ve seen enough 70s movies that I really should have known better than to have expected a happy ending.) Thanks to the perceptive script by Michael Cimino (who would go on to make The Deer Hunter and Heaven’s Gate) and the performances of Eastwood and Bridges, the movie’s final moments carry quite a punch and they leave you wondering if Thunderbolt and Lightfoot’s road trip was worth the price that was ultimately paid. The film works as not only a tribute to friendship but also as a fatalistic portrait of life on the backroads of America.
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot was the first Eastwood film to receive an Oscar nomination, with Jeff Bridges competing for Best Supporting Actor. (He lost to Robert De Niro’s star turn in The Godfather, Part II.) Eastwood, reportedly, felt that he deserved a nomination for his performance as Thunderbolt and, considering that that Oscar itself was won by Art Carney for his pleasant but hardly revelatory work in Harry and Tonto, Eastwood was correct. Instead, Eastwood would have to wait for another 18 years before he finally received Academy recognition for starring in, producing, and directing Unforgiven.
Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked. Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce. Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial. Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released. This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked. These are the Unnominated.
In 1972’s Kansas City Bomber, Raquel Welch stars as KC Carr.
KC. is a star on the roller derby circuit, a tough fighter who is loved by the audience and who shows no fear when it comes to skating around the track and getting into brawls with the other team. The audience especially loves it when she fights Jackie Burdette (Helena Kallianiotes), madly cheering over every punch landed and every elbow thrown and every strand of hair pulled. It’s not glamorous work but KC loves the adulation of the crowds and the comradery of her team. She’s a single mother and putting on roller skates and getting bruised in fights allows her to support her daughter, Rita (a pre-Taxi Driver Jodie Foster).
But then KC is traded to another team, the Portland Loggers. It takes KC a while to fit in with her new team. She’s viewed with suspicion, especially when she starts to date the owner of the team, Burt Henry (Kevin McCarthy). Burt may seem charming but KC soon discovers that he has a jealous side. When KC spends too much time with her best friend and roommate, Burt trades her to another team. When a male skater named “Horrible” Hank (Norman Alden) reveals that he has a rather obvious crush on KC, Burt goes out of his way to humiliate Hank. Burt wants to start a new team in Chicago and he’s promised to make KC a star. Will KC give up her own freedom to be Burt’s well-compensated star or will she stand up for herself and show that she doesn’t belong to anyone?
You already know the answer. The wonderful thing about Raquel Welch is that she was tough. She didn’t let people push her around and, if that resulted in people in Hollywood whispering that she was difficult, so be it. Like KC Carr, Raquel Welch didn’t make any apologies. Kansas City Bomber is one of the few of Welch’s early 70s films to celebrate and show how just how tough she was. For once, Welch is given an actual character to play and she proves herself to be a strong and fierce actress. It’s fun and more than a little empowering to watch her performance here. Everyone underestimates KC Carr, just as everyone underestimated Raquel Welch. In both cases, the doubters are proven wrong.
Kansas City Bomber is not a great film. (The pacing is totally off and the supporting characters are not quite as memorable as either Welch or Kevin McCarthy.) But Raquel Welch gave a great performance. That Welch was never Oscar-nominated isn’t really a surprise. She didn’t appear in the type of movies that received Oscar attention and she was often cast in roles that didn’t give her much of an opportunity to show off what she could do. She definitely deserved a nomination for Kansas City Bomber.
Every Monday night at 9:00 Central Time, my wife Sierra and I host a “Live Movie Tweet” event on X using the hashtag #MondayMuggers. We rotate movie picks each week, and our tastes are quite different. Tonight, Monday February 10th, we’re watching KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS starring Charles Bronson!
Back when I was a teenager, I would always get the entertainment section out of dad’s Sunday paper so I could check out the movie listings and see if there was a new movie I wanted to see. I would also look for information about my favorite movie star, Charles Bronson. Nowadays, we know about new movies months, even years, in advance, but back then I would first learn about them from the entertainment section of dad’s paper. I remember one Sunday in early 1989, seeing an advertisement for a new Charles Bronson film called KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS. It was the first time I had ever heard of the film. I knew I wasn’t going to get to see it at the movies because it was only playing in Little Rock, and it was rated R, but I was excited anyway because I knew it would be on its way to video pretty soon!
In KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS, Charles Bronson plays police lieutenant Crowe. He deals with the sleaziest criminals in Los Angeles on a daily basis and it’s starting to take a toll on his personal life. He’s currently personally invested in bringing down an underage prostitution ring led by Duke (Juan Fernandez) and Lavonne (Sy Richardson). When a Japanese businessman’s young daughter is kidnapped by Duke, Crowe decides he must do everything in his power to get her back to her family.
Here is some interesting trivia about the film:
Beginning with DEATH WISH II (1982) Charles Bronson made 8 films for the infamous Cannon Group. KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS was the last of those films. The others are 10 TO MIDNIGHT (1983), DEATH WISH 3 (1985), MURPHY’S LAW (1986), ASSASSINATION (1987), DEATH WISH 4: THE CRACKDOWN (1987), and MESSENGER OF DEATH (1988).
Director J. Lee Thompson directed Charles Bronson in 9 different films, with KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS being the final film he ever directed. Charles Bronson loved working with the same directors once he got comfortable with them. Thompson, who directed classics like THE GUNS OF NAVARONE (1961) and CAPE FEAR (1962), always made sure Bronson’s low budget Cannon films were filmed in a competent and professional manner.
Nicole Eggert plays a teen prostitute in this film and Amy Hathaway plays Charles Bronson’s daughter. Both were appearing in popular sitcoms at the time. Eggert was starring in CHARLES IN CHARGE and Hathaway was in MY TWO DADS.
The bad guy in the film is played by Juan Fernandez. He’s played some great villains in his day. Actor James Woods told me this about Juan, “The irony is that Juan Fernandez is one of the nicest actors I’ve ever worked with, and yet one of the most truly frightening villains. His work in SALVADOR was superb. A lovely, talented man.”
Perry Lopez, who plays Bronson’s partner in the film had worked with Bronson twice before. He appeared with Bronson in the excellent 1954 western DRUM BEAT, and also in 1987’s DEATH WISH 4: THE CRACKDOWN.
So join us tonight to for #MondayMuggers and watch KINJITE: FORBIDDEN SUBJECTS! It’s on Amazon Prime.
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a new feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Fridays, I will be reviewing The Master, which ran on NBC from January to August of 1984. Almost all nine of the show’s episodes can be found on Tubi!
My original plan was to follow-up Half Nelson by reviewing Freddy’s Nightmares. Unfortunately, Freddy’s Nightmares has been removed from Tubi and it’s not currently streaming anywhere else. Hopefully, some other site will soon feature it or it will eventually return to Tubi and I’ll be able to review the show in the future.
While I was looking for another show to review, I came across The Master. The Master ran for 13 episodes in 1984. It featured Lee Van Cleef as John Peter McAllister, a ninja traveling across America and searching for his daughter. Helping out McAllister is Max Keller, a young drifter who owns a groovy van and who is played by Timothy Van Patten. (Van Patten, who has since become a much in-demand director, is probably best known for playing Stegman in Class of 1984.) Since The Master had a short run and everyone loves ninjas, I decided to add it to our retro television schedule!
Episode 1.1 “Max”
(Dir by Robert Clouse, originally aired on January 20th, 1984)
“My name’s Max Keller and this is how I usually leave a bar.”
So opens the first episode of The Master. The voice over is courtesy Max Keller (Timothy Van Patten), a young drifter who drives across America in a van with a pet hamster named Henry as his main companion. And the way that Max usually leaves a bar is through the front window. In this case, Max is tossed through a window by a bunch of bikers. Max responds by sabotaging all of their bikes so, when they try to chase after him as he drives off in his van, all of the bikers are thrown from their bike and onto the hard pavement of the road. I would think that this would kill most of the bikers but Max doesn’t seem to be too concerned about that. Instead, he just has a good laugh as he drives away. Oh, Max!
Meanwhile, in Japan, John Peter McAllister (Lee Van Cleef), “the man who would change my life,” (to quote Max’s voiceover) is preparing to return to America for the first time in years. McAllister moved to Japan after World War II and is the only American to have been trained in the ninja arts. (Why the ninjas would be so eager to train an American after the way World War II ended is not explained.) McAllister has just found out that he has a daughter who he has never met. (How did he find out? Again, it’s not explained.) He wants to return home so that he can find her. However, Osaka (Sho Kosugi), a former student of McAllister’s, is determined to kill him for breaking the ninja code. McAllister manages to escape Japan with only a slight wound courtesy of a throwing star. Osaka decides to follow him.
Back in America, a young woman named Holly Trumbull (a very young Demi Moore) runs out into the middle of a country highway and is nearly run over by Max. Max stops his van just in time and offers Holly a ride. It turns out that Holly is being pursued by the evil Sheriff Kyle (Bill McKinney). She explains that Sheriff Kyle tried to rape her, which is information that Max just kind of shrugs off. He manages to outrun the Sheriff and takes Holly back to the airport that is managed by her father, Mr. Trumbull (Claude Akins).
Max apparently (I say apparently because the episode’s editing is so ragged that it’s often difficult to tell how much time has passed from one scene to the next) spends a few days working at the airport and trying to date Holly. When he attempts to give Holly a kiss, she backs away from him and explains that she’s still not comfortable with being kissed after nearly being raped the town’s sheriff. “I’m sorry,” she says. Max, being a bit of a jerk, gets annoyed and says, “That makes three of us. Henry was just starting to like you.” After saying that he’s going to go somewhere to see if “my luck improves,” he goes to the local bar to unwind.
Also at the bar is John Peter McAllister! McAllister knows that his daughter came through Mr. Trumbull’s airport and he wants to show her picture to the people in the bar. For some reason, the bartender doesn’t want him to do that. When Sheriff Kyle, who is also in the bar, discovers that McAllister is carrying a samurai sword in his suitcase, the sheriff tries to arrest him. When a bar fight breaks out, Max fights alongside McAllister and they even manage to steal the sword back from the sheriff. Bonded by combat, Max and McAllister become fast friends. Before you know it, Max is agreeing to drive McAllister across the country as long as McAllister trains Max how to be a ninja.
But first, an evil developer named Mr. Christensen (Clu Gulager) is determined to run the Turnbulls off their land. After Christensen is not moved by an impassioned speech by Max and instead tries to blow up the airport, it’s time for Max and McAllister to invade Christensen’s office and fight a bunch of guards. Osaka also shows up at the office so we get a lengthy fight scene between Sho Kosugi and Lee Van Cleef’s stunt double. (McAllister dons his head-to-do ninja costume before doing any fighting, so we don’t actually see his face while he’s doing in any of his amazing ninja moves.) While Osaka and McAllister are fighting, Max defeats Christensen by throwing a ninja star at him and hitting him in the chest. I would think that would be murder but who knows. Maybe the blade narrowly missed Christensen’s heart and he was just unconscious. Or maybe Max’s just a sociopath.
Somehow, this leads to the Turnbulls getting to keep the airport. McAllister and Max drive off together, in search of America.
What a messy episode! Obviously, this episode had to get a lot done in just 48 minutes. It had to introduce Max and McAllister, it had to explain why they were traveling together, and it also had to give them an adventure. I guess I shouldn’t feel surprised that the episode felt a bit rushed but still, there were so many unanswered questions. For instance, why is Max driving across the country in a van? How did McAllister find out that he had a daughter? Why didn’t he know that he had a daughter before hand? Did McAllister’s daughter actually come through the town or not? How did Osaka track down McAllister? Where did Max learn to fight before he met McAllister? Why is McAllister so quick to agree to take Max under his wing? Why is Max so quick to drive a strange old man across the country?
As for the cast, Lee Van Cleef appears to be a bit frail in the role of McAllister. (He would died 5 years after The Master went off the air.) Timothy Van Patten comes across as being bit manic as Max. Personally, I would be worried about getting into a van with Max because he doesn’t really seem to have much impulse control. As for the guest cast, Demi Moore gives a strong performance as Holly but the character vanishes from the episode after finally giving Max a kiss. Claude Akins and Clu Gulager only get a few minutes of screentime and are both stuck with stock roles. Akin is the honest working man while Gulager is the corrupt businessman. Billl McKinny is properly hissable as the bully of a sheriff. And Sho Kosugi looks annoyed with the whole thing.
The first episode was not that promising but who knows! Maybe the show will improve as it goes along. We’ll find out next week!
1973’s The Exorcistis often cited as the first horror film to ever be nominated for best picture and technically, I guess that’s correct. It was definitely the first best picture nominee to ever deal with a battle between humans and a malevolent supernatural force and no one can deny that The Exorcist has influenced a countless number of horror films.
That said, I think you could make the argument that Deliverance, which was nominated for best picture the year before The Exorcist, was in its own way, a horror film. Certainly, every crazed hick slasher film that has come out since 1972 owes a debt to Deliverance. Deliverance‘s ending has been imitated by so many other horror films that it’s become a bit of cliche. Though there might not be any supernatural creatures in Deliverance, the film still features its own set of horrifying monsters. The toothless redneck rapists (played by character actor Bill McKinney and rodeo performer Herbert “Cowboy” Coward) seem as if they’ve jumped straight out of a nightmare and into the movie. Of course, they aren’t the only monsters in this film. There’s also the (fictional) Cahulawassee River, which is due to be dammed up and seems to be determined to take out its anger on anyone foolish enough to try to navigate it.
Much as with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre(which came out just two years after Deliverance), the main theme here seem to be that you should be careful about going off the main road. Just as the unfortunate hippies and college students in Texas Chainsaw Massacre proved to be no match for a clan of backwoods cannibal, the four middle-aged men at the center of Deliverance discover that they’re no match for either nature or its inhabitants. At the start of the film, we watch as three of the men deal with the locals in a condescending and rather smirky manner. Only one of them actually tries to be nice to the locals, engaging in a banjo duel with a young boy who clearly loves his banjo but who still refuses to smile or shake hands. The boy knows what the men are getting themselves into them. The boy knows what awaits them.
If you grew up in the South, as I did, you’ll recognize all four of the men. It’s not just that they’re played by recognizable actors. It’s that each one of them is a common archetype of the type of men you find down here.
For instance, there’s Lewis (Burt Reynolds), the self-styled alpha male with his leather vest and his bow-and-arrow and his constant talk about how society is eventually going to collapse and only the strong are going to survive. You know that Lewis is full of it from the minute you see him but he’s so charismatic that you can also understand why the other three men have fallen under his control.
And then there’s Bobby (Ned Beatty). Bobby is quick to laugh and quick to talk and quick to make a bad joke. When he says that he’s a salesman, you’re not surprised. From the start of the film, Lewis complains that Bobby isn’t strong enough or serious enough and, when the mountain men attack, Bobby is the one they target. And yet, towards the end of the film, Bobby is the one who sells the hastily concocted story about what happened on the river.
Drew (Ronny Cox) is the nicest of the men. With his glasses and his guitar and his rather touching belief that everything will be okay if everyone just tells the truth, Drew’s the prototype of the Southern liberal. One can imagine him teaching in a community college and vainly trying to convince his relatives that segregation and nostalgia for the Confederacy is holding the South back.
And finally, there’s Ed (Jon Voight). Ed smokes a pipe and it’s obvious that he’s someone who has a very secure life. Ed is the one who is everyone’s friend. He’s the one who sticks up for Bobby. He’s the one who reminds Drew to wear his life jacket. He’s the only one who can get away with (gently) mocking Lewis. Ed seems like a nice guy but, at the start of the film, there’s a strange emptiness to Ed. You get the feeling that the reason Ed is friends with everyone is because he doesn’t have any firm beliefs. Instead, he just adapts to each situation and says whatever everyone wants to hear. You can’t help but wonder what Ed believes. By the end of the movie, of course, both Ed and the viewer have learned what Ed is capable of doing.
Cox, Voight, and especially poor Ned Beatty are all perfectly cast in their roles. Burt Reynolds reportedly felt that this film was his best performance and he was probably right. Director John Boorman captures both the beauty and the menace of nature, leaving you both in awe of the the river and fearful of what it can do those foolish enough to try to conquer it. Interestingly enough, while Boorman was directing Deliverance, he was offered The Exorcist. He turned it down, feeling that the script was too exploitive of the possessed child. Boorman would, however, direct The Exorcist II: The Heretic (co-starring Deliverance‘s Ned Beatty).
(At the same time, Jon Voight was offered the role of Father Karras in The Exorcist but, like Boorman, turned the film down so he could work on Deliverance.)
While the film is best known for its sequences on the river, one should not overlook the haunting scenes of the survivors once they make their way back to civilization. After having spent the previous 80 minutes or so presenting everyone in the backwoods as a threat, the final third of Deliverance actually emphasizes the decency of the townspeople. When one of the men breaks down and starts to cry in the middle of dinner, everyone is quietly respectful of his emotions. Towards the end of the film, as the survivors are driven out of town, they find themselves stuck behind the old country church, which is being moved upriver. “Just got to wait for the church to get out of the way,” their driver says while the church’s bell mournfully rings for both the death of the town and the death of innocence.
(Of course, even with all the kind townspeople around, there’s still a somewhat menacing sheriff. It’s just not a Southern film without a scary sheriff, is it? “Don’t you boys ever do nothing like this again,” he says at one point. The sheriff is played by James Dickey, the author of both the novel and the screenplay on which the film is based.)
Deliverance was nominated for three academy awards. In the directing and the editing categories, it lost to Cabaret. For best picture, it lost to The Godfather. Deliverance, The Godfather, and Cabaret, all competing against each other? 1972 was a very good year.
From everything that I had heard and seen over the past few years, I was under the impression that this 1982 film was the ultimate in mindless action. I figured that the film was basically just two hours of Sylvester Stallone hiding in the woods, firing a machine gun, riding a motorcycle, and eventually blowing up a small, bigoted town. It wasn’t a film that I was in any particular hurry to experience but I knew it was one that I would have to watch eventually, if just because of how many filmmakers have cited the film as an influence. On Sunday night, First Blood aired on the Sundance Channel and, for the first time, I watched it all the way through. What I discovered is that there’s a lot more to First Blood than I had been led to believe.
Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s definitely an action film. Stallone spends a lot of time hiding in the woods, firing a machine gun, riding a motorcycle, and blowing up a town. Somewhat improbably, only one character actually dies over the course of the film, though quite a few end up getting maimed and wounded. There’s even a close-up of Stallone stitching up a nasty gash on his arm, which totally made me cringe. But, even with all the gunfire and explosions, First Blood has more on its mind than just carnage. It’s a brooding film, one that angrily takes America to task for its treatment of its veterans and outsiders. In its way, it’s an action film with a heart.
Sylvester Stallone plays John Rambo, a troubled drifter who is still haunted by not only his experiences in Vietnam but also by the feeling that his own country doesn’t want him around. When Rambo, with his unkempt hair and wearing a jacket with an American flag patch prominently displayed, shows up in the town of Hope, Washington, it’s not to cause trouble. He just wants to see an old friend, a man with whom he served. Unfortunately, his friend has died. The man’s bitter mother says that he got cancer from “that orange stuff they were spraying around.” Even though the war is over, it’s still killing the only people who can possibly understand how Rambo feels about both his service and his uncertain place in American society.
As Rambo walks through the town, he’s spotted by Sheriff Will Teasle (Brian Dennehy). Rambo just wants to get a cup of coffee and relax. Teasle, however, views Rambo as being a stranger and, therefore, a possible threat to his town. Teasle wants Rambo to leave. Rambo wants to know why, after everything that he’s sacrificed for his country, he’s being told that he needs to get a haircut. From this simple conflict — a misunderstanding really, as Teasle doesn’t know that Rambo is mourning the death of his friend and instead interprets Rambo’s sullen silence as being a threat — an undeclared and unwinnable war soon breaks out.
Technically, Teasle is the film’s villain. He’s the one who arrests Rambo for vagrancy. It’s his abusive deputies who cause Rambo to have the flashbacks that lead to him breaking out of jail. It’s Teasle’s arrogance that leads to him ignore the warnings of Rambo’s former commanding office, Sam Trautman (Richard Crenna). And yet, Teasle himself is never portrayed as being an evil man. Instead, Dennehy plays Teasle as being well-meaning but stubborn. It’s been written that the most compelling villains are the ones who don’t realize that they’re the villain and that’s certainly true in Teasle’s case. Teasle’s job is to protect the town and its citizens and that’s what he’s determined to do. If his actions become extreme, it has less to do with any deliberate cruelty on his part and everything to do with the fact that, towards the end of the film, he finally figures out that he’s in way over his head.
Once Rambo has disappeared into the woods and maimed (but not killed) all of Teasle’s deputies, he only has one request and that’s to be left alone. He simply wants to stay in the woods, hunting for food and free from a society that has nothing to offer him during peacetime. What’s interesting is that, at the start of the film, everyone wants Rambo to just disappear. He’s a reminder of not just the turmoil of the Vietnam era but also the fact that Vietnam was the first war that America lost. Rambo’s presence is viewed as being like an ugly scar that you wish would just fade away. However, once Rambo does actually vanish, people won’t stop looking for him. As opposed to the later films in the franchise, the Rambo of First Blood doesn’t want to fight anyone. Rambo just wants to be left alone in solitude and considering the way that he’s treated by the town of Hope, it’s hard to blame him.
And so, you end up sympathizing with this John Rambo. Even thought he’s blowing up a town during the Christmas season and there’s a few scenes where he’s kind of scary, it’s impossible not to feel that he has a right to his anger. You find yourself wishing that the Sheriff had just left him alone or that maybe Rambo had just taken Teasle’s earlier advice and left town. Because, as you watch the film, you know that 1) there was no good reason why any of this had to happen and 2) things probably aren’t going to end well for either John Rambo or Will Teasle.
First Blood was based on a novel that was first published in 1972. The film spent nearly a decade in development, as various directors, screenwriters, and actors circled around the project. At one point, First Blood was envisioned as an anti-war film that would have been directed by Sidney Lumet and which would have featured a bearded Al Pacino lurking through the wilderness and killing not only Teasle but also several deputies and national guardsmen. When Stallone agreed to star in the film, he also rewrote the script, transforming Rambo into a sympathetic outsider who goes out of his way not to kill anyone. The end result was an underdog story that audiences could embrace.
Seen today, it’s interesting to see how many familiar faces pop up in First Blood. For instance, a young and really goofy-looking David Caruso pops up and totally overacts in the role of the only sympathetic deputy. A less sympathetic deputy is played by Chris Mulkey, who would go on to play other unsympathetic characters in a huge number of movies and TV shows. Interestingly enough, the most sadistic of the deputies was played by Jack Starrett, who directed a several classic B-moves in the 70s. (One of Starrett’s films was The Losers, in which a bunch of bikers were sent to Vietnam to rescue an American diplomat.)
As opposed to many of the films that it subsequently inspired, First Blood holds up surprisingly well. It may be violent but it’s violence with a heart.
Through the Shattered Lens 