Iron Eagle (1986)

Lamar from Revenge of the Nerds and a bunch of precocious teenagers rescue Tim Thomerson from certain death at the hands of Poirot!

Iron Eagle is a 1986 film directed by Sidney J Furie and starring Jason Gedrick and Louis Gossett Jr.

Even for an action movie made smack bang in the middle of Ronald Reagan’s presidency, Iron Eagle pushes the boundaries of ridiculousness. It shamelessly rides on the coat tails of the far superior Top Gun, it shits all over a fictional Middle Eastern country, the action scenes are haphazardly staged and filmed (seriously, don’t attempt a drinking game where you take a shot every time there’s a continuity error – you’ll die of alcohol poisoning), and the story is far-fetched in the extreme.

Yet I can’t help but love the shit out of this movie. I think it’s quite possibly the greatest thing on the face of the Earth.

Strangely, the most well-filmed action sequence is one of the least important but most ridiculous. It’s right at the start, where they establish what a good pilot Doug Masters (Jason Gedrick) is by having him race a dirt bike in his Cessna. Yes, that’s not a typo. Plane vs motorbike. It’s actually a really good sequence, featuring a light aircraft being flown at insanely low altitude through canyons. It’s so well filmed it doesn’t jazz with the later flying sequences featuring jet fighters. They are so different it’s almost as if one director filmed this sequence, then read the rest of the script and ran away.

What I love most about this film is that despite the idiocy of the script it tries valiantly to be sincere. Doug’s father (the always awesome Tim Thomerson) has been shot down and taken prisoner. So we get these hopelessly emotional scenes at the start where Doug pleads with some generic Army guy that the suits in Washington are doing nothing to save his good old Dad from the clutches of a generic Middle Eastern dictator (played by none other than David ‘Poirot’ Suchet), a guy who is obviously based on Ghaddafi (or however you spell it).

What makes these silly scenes so much funnier is that right after one of them, Doug decides to attend his high school prom so we get some woeful scene featuring Lamar from Revenge of the Nerds busting some moves on the dance floor (the film is also casually racist – only the black guy knows how to dance).

So of course because the Government is powerless to intervene, Doug and his loyal band of teenage army brats must take matters into their own hands. They are assisted by the always reliable Louis Gossett Jr, playing Chappy, a retired army pilot whose motivation for wanting to help seems to boil down to some teary, badly-written scene where he reminisces about some kid he saw killed in Vietnam…or something. Those damn rice paddies have a lot to answer for.

This leads to a montage where we see the kids breaking into various air force bases and classified documents rooms to get some blueprints and maps and also somehow manage to steal two fully armed F-16 fighter jets. They make it seem as easy as chucking some packets of gum down your pants and waddling out of the corner store. There’s even a scene where two of them, dressed in some kind of weird Village People disguises, distract some guards at the base by throwing fire crackers into a 44 gallon drum. And no, they aren’t killed in a hail of machine gun fire, it’s played for a gag.

The whole ‘planning stage’ of the rescue operation is pretty much played for laughs. They kick about in a clubhouse, play tricks on hapless army guys, do silly voices and then all of a sudden the film shifts back into serious mode as Doug and Chappy take to the skies.

Oh I need to backtrack to one of my other favourite things about this film. You see, Doug is only a good pilot as long as he has 80’s rock music blasting on his Walkman. Again, that’s not a typo and no, I’m not kidding. He can’t fire missiles straight unless he has his music on. It’s possibly the greatest way I’ve ever seen songs shoehorned into an action film.

And speaking of tapes… Chappy’s made these ‘motivational’ tapes for Doug to listen to on the flight over. What is hilarious is that he seems to have made one for every possible eventuality. There’s one in the event of his death. There’s one for if they make it. One for if they don’t. One for when he’s rescued his dad. I just picture Doug fumbling with them in the cockpit, squinting at the labels Chappy’s put on them *click* IF YOU GET SHOT DOWN “uhhh dammit wrong tape!” They all pretty much say the same thing anyway: Don’t worry, it’ll be all right, have faith in yourself, kid. Chappy’s like a cross between Mr Miyagi and Yoda.

And getting back to continuity errors, one of my favourites comes toward the end when Doug decides to blow up one of Poirot’s oil refineries. You see him fly over what is quite obviously a water plant. And for some reason this makes Poirot agree to let Tim Thomerson go, to meet Doug on a tarmac. Of course Poirot thinks he’s setting a trap because Doug will obviously have to land in order to pick up his dad, but never fear as this gives Doug a chance to use his secret weapon: some ridiculous bomb called the “Hades” which puts up some kind of wall of fire between him and bad guys so he can take off.

The film just keeps piling on the stupidity. We see the bad guys rip tarps off some anti-aircraft guns. It’s edited and scored like an “uh oh” moment, but Doug then blows the guns up before they have a chance to do anything.

Ah heck, I love this film. I love its blatant geographical and continuity errors (look out for Doug’s dad’s plane at the start – missiles loaded under its wings appear and disappear at random). I love its shameless pro-Americanism (at one point Lamar even remarks that the bad guys don’t stand a chance because ‘Ronny Ray-Gun’ is in charge). I love the silly attempts at emotion and Chappy’s self-help tapes. And I love that the bad guy is a British guy playing a Middle Eastern guy speaking with a Latin accent. Jesus I miss the 80's.

Gladiator (2000)

Russell Crowe tries to change his name to 'Gladiator', Richard Harris makes Joaquin Phoenix mad, and Germans never got the 'don't kill the messenger' memo.

Gladiator is a 2000 epic directed by Ridley Scott and starring Russell Crowe, Joaquin Phoenix and Djimon Hounsou.

The best part of owning the ‘Extended Edition’ blu ray of Gladiator for me is the introduction by Ridley Scott. I find it hilarious. I don’t think he could sound less enthusiastic about it. The entire speech just screams ‘Universal made me do this’. And Universal, as if as some kind of weird punishment, makes this introduction impossible to avoid. It automatically plays every time you watch the film.

The fact the extended edition always begins with the director telling you that he got it right the first time ends up being remarkably apt, because he did. None of the extra scenes really add much to the film. It certainly isn’t ruined by the added 17 minutes or so, but the theatrical cut is a great example of it being unnecessary to fix something that isn’t broken.

Anyway, whatever version you prefer, Gladiator is an excellent film.

The opening battle sequence, where Maximus’ (Crowe) army confronts the Germanic warriors, is expertly staged and superbly filmed and scored. Beginning any ‘epic’ with the massive set piece battle has become somewhat of a cliché these days, but it began here, and it hasn’t really been topped. I love the lead up to the action. From Maximus quietly watching the sparrow launch itself off a branch amidst the smoke of the burning oil, to the way his dog runs alongside his horse as he gallops through the lines of his men, to the ‘message’ the Germans deliver in the form of the Roman messenger being returned minus his head, I love everything about it.

One of the things I like most about this film is the fact it pretty much lacks subtlety of any kind. Almost everything about Gladiator is overt. Ridley Scott directs the film as spectacle in the image of the old greats like Ben Hur and Spartacus and The Fall of the Roman Empire. The visuals of ancient Rome, despite being a bit turn-of-the-century clunky CGI, are really impressive. Scott's trademark attention to period detail is on fine display.

And I like that Russell Crowe gives Maximus some depth. He begins the film the honourable, revered general leading his men into battle, then becomes the bitter vengeful slave and finally the balls-to-the-wall “are you not entertained?” gladiator.

I do like one of the film’s only moments of subtlety though – it’s Maximus' quiet conversation with Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris) at the beginning, where he describes his home in Spain. Crowe is excellent in this scene - he is by turns stoic and longing.

The other performance I like is Joaquin Phoenix as Commodus. Phoenix is a very impressive actor. His Commodus is evil in the best way – he’s unpredictable. He’s one of those people you’d feel really uncomfortable being alone with. You could never relax because he always looks like he’s just about to unhinge and start ranting and snapping like a rabid animal. He plays some scenes like a hurt sheep, but there’s always the menace of the wolf lurking just beneath the surface. He actually benefits from one of the scenes added to the extended edition – where he confronts a marble bust of his dead father and begins hacking at it with a sword. He's both pathetic and incredibly threatening.

All the performances are pretty spot on. I particularly like Maximus’ friend, Cicero (Tommy Flanagan). He’s that quietly loyal-to-the-bitter-end sidekick to the main hero that I always enjoy in films like this.

Anyway, this film will go down in movie history as accomplishing two things – firstly, it made Russell Crowe a star. And secondly, it made swords and sandals epics cool again. Both of which were more than welcome with me. Two and a half hours well spent.