Lou Castel | Through the Shattered Lens

1976’s The Cassandra Crossing opens with a shot of the headquarters of the World Health Organization in Geneva, Switzerland. Though the film (and the shot) may be from the 70s, one look at the ugly brutalism of the WHO’s headquarters is all it takes to understand the mentality that, nearly 50 years later, would lead to the organization serving as China’s mouthpiece during the COVID pandemic.

Three Swedish terrorists attack the American mission at the WHO. One of them is killed by a guard. Another immediately falls victims to an unidentified disease that is apparently a new form of the Bubonic plague. The third (Lou Castel) escapes and boards a train that is heading for Sweden. Two Americans, Col. MacKenzie (Burt Lancaster) and Major Stack (John Phillip Law), and Swedish doctor Elena Stadner (Ingrid Thulin), try to figure out how to stop the spread of the infection.

While the infected terrorist lurches around the train, the passengers go through their own personal dramas. Renowned neurologist Jonathan Chamberlain (Richard Harris) flirts with his ex-wife, writer Jennifer Rispoli (Sophia Loren). Wealthy Nicole Dressler (Ava Gardner, whose voice sounds like a cigarette ad) boards the train with her heroin-addicted younger boyfriend, Robby Navarro (a long-haired, dark glasses-wearing Martin Sheen, acting up a storm and apparently having a lot of fun for once). Herman Kaplan (Lee Strasberg) is a regular on the train, a Holocaust survivor who enjoys a good chess game with the conductor, Max (Lionel Stander). Haley (OJ Simpson) is a narcotics agent who is disguised as a priest. Susan (Ann Turkel) is the hippie who just wants to have sex with her boyfriend (Ray Lovelock) but who keeps getting interrupted by other passengers. When she complains about already having had to already deal with one “sweaty pervert” during the day, Chamberlain replies, “Which sweaty pervert?” By this point, Chamberlain knows about the infected man and is trying to track him down before he can infect anyone else on the train.

The Cassandra Crossing is several films in one. It’s an all-star disaster film. It’s medical thriller. Once Col. MacKenzie decides that the best way to deal with the train (and to cover-up the fact that America was researching germ warfare) would be to send the train over the infamous Cassandra Crossing, an unstable bridge that is on the verge of collapse, it becomes a conspiracy thriller. It’s all a bit ludicrous, though in this post-pandemic age, there is definitely a renewed power to the images of Hazmat suit-wearing soldiers carrying submachine guns and threatening to kill anyone who resists going into quarantine. When it comes to films that make Hazmat suits look menacing, The Cassandra Crossing can proudly stand with George Romero’s The Crazies and Zombi 3.

Of course, with any disaster film, the real purpose of the movie is to gather together a collection of familiar faces and then allow the viewer to spend two hours trying to guess who will survive and who will not. The cast is full of actors who all probably deserved a better script. Richard Harris, Burt Lancaster, and Ingrid Thulin all look somewhat embarrassed. Ava Gardner and Martin Sheen fully embrace the melodrama. In fact, it’s hard for me to think of any other movie where Sheen actually seemed to be having as much fun as he does while playing the drug-addicted, prone-to-histrionics mountain climber in The Cassandra Crossing. As was typical of his film career, O.J. Simpson gives a very earnest performance. He’s not exactly good but it’s obvious that he’s trying really hard and it would make him likable if not for the fact that he’s O.J. Simpson, just 20 years away from getting away with murder. Out of the ensemble cast, Lionel Stander, Lee Strasberg, and Sophia Loren are the one who probably come the closest to actually giving good performances. Loren’s husband, Carlo Ponti, produced the film with Sir Lew Grade and Loren gives a performance that is blessed with the confidence of knowing her career had survived far worse than The Cassandra Crossing.

The Cassandra Crossing is the epitome of a film that’s not necessarily good but which is definitely entertaining. Between the drama-stuffed plot and the overwritten dialogue and the performances of Gardner and Sheen, it’s campy in the way that only an overproduced 70s disaster film can be. For certain viewers, there’s undoubtedly a lot of joy to be found in the scenes in which the passengers finally start to stand up to the authoritarians trying to force them into quarantine. That said, this is one of those films where we’re not meant to get particularly upset about hundreds of innocent people dying just because the main characters managed to come through unscathed. The film’s ending is right up there with Man of Steel as far as needless destruction is concerned. Fortunately, the ending also features some terrible miniature shots, all of which remind us not to take it all too seriously.

To paraphrase another 70s film: “Forget it, Jake. It’s The Cassandra Crossing.“

In the 1977 film, Mr. Mean, Fred Williamson plays the title role.

He’s a former employee of the Cosa Nostra who now works as a sort of private investigator. He’s cool. He’s hip. He’s sexy. He’s Fred Williamson! But the best thing about him is that his name actually is Mr. Mean. Everyone in the film literally calls him “Mr. Mean.” He introduces himself as being “Mr. Mean.” The people who are closest to him occasionally leave out the “Mister” and just call him “Mean.”

The film begins with a woman approaching Fred Williamson on a basketball court and saying to him, “Hey, is your name Mr. Mean?”

Later, when he calls his office to check his messages, he tells his secretary, “This is Mr. Mean.”

When he goes to his favorite bar, he’s approached by two members of Ohio Players, the band behind Fire and Love Rollercoaster. They tell him that they are such big fans of him and his reputation that they’ve actually written a song about him. The song is called “Mr. Mean.” They proceed to play the song over the opening credits. For his part, Mr. Mean does not appear to be impressed. That said, I imagine the Ohio Players were probably happier to be playing for Mr. Mean and than for the Brady Bunch.

Mr. Mean is summoned to Italy by a mob boss who wants Mr. Mean to do one last job. He wants Mr. Mean to assassinate a rival gangster, Huberto (Lou Castel). Mr. Mean explains that he may be a fighter and lover but he’s not a killer. However, Mr. Mean then learns that Huberto has been running a scam charity, stealing money that people are donating to help fight hunger in Africa. Mr. Mean takes on the contract. However, Huberto knows that Mr. Mean is in Italy to take him out so Huberto hires an assassin named Rommell (Raimund Harmstorf) to take out Mr. Mean first.

Judging from the endless shots of Mr. Mean casually walking through Rome, it doesn’t appear that either man is in much of a hurry to get the job done. Mr. Mean even takes time to pursue a romance with the mysterious Rene (Crippy Yocard). What little action there is comes to a complete halt so the film can give us a lengthy scene of Mr. Mean and Rene walking along the beach. Eventually, it turns out that Rene has a secret of her own and, for a few minutes, it seems like Mr. Mean might become yet another Fred Williamson film to feature a sudden downbeat finale. But no worries! Mr. Mean may be mean but he’s also clever!

(Actually, Mr. Mean turns out to be a surprisingly nice guy so I’m not really sure how he got that nickname.)

The film’s plot is next to impossible to really summarize because the plot doesn’t make any sense. The story feels like it was made up on the spot, probably because it was. Reportedly, Fred Williamson shot this film while he was in Italy to make Inglorious Bastards. He would spend the week working on Bastards and then, on the weekend, he would borrow the film’s equipment and crew and secretly work on Mr. Mean. He wrote the script while filming. The result is a film that meanders without adding up to much. The main theme of Mr. Mean appears to be that Fred Williamson was Fred Williamson’s biggest fan.

Mr. Mean is one of Fred Williamson’s lesser films. Though he didn’t necessarily have a wide range as an actor, Fred Williamson had charisma and a lot of style and confidence. All of that is on display in Mr. Mean but the film itself is impossible to follow and ultimately just feels like an extended home movie. Mr. Mean just isn’t mean enough to be memorable.