Conan the Barbarian

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This post is part of The Sword and Sandal Blogathon over at the Moon in Gemini blog.

Created by Robert E. Howard, the character of Conan the Barbarian first appeared in a series of sword and sorcery stories published in pulp magazines, like Weird Tales in 1932. The success of these early stories inspired Howard to complete 21 stories before he committed suicide in 1936. These tales were set during the fictional “Hyborian Age,” which occurred after the fall of Atlantis. Conan was often described as a muscular yet agile man known for his tactical abilities as much as his brawn. Throughout the stories, he wandered the world, getting into adventures under a variety of guises: thief, outlaw, mercenary, and pirate.

It wasn’t until 1970s that plans for a cinematic adaptation began with a young Oliver Stone hired to write the screenplay. The film’s development hit a rocky period until the late ‘70s when John Milius was hired as director and Arnold Schwarzenegger was cast as the titular character. The result was Conan the Barbarian (1982), a violent action/adventure film that was embodied the spirit of Howard’s stories as much at its director’s own thematic preoccupations. It was a box office success and helped launch Schwarzenegger’s international career.

“Let me tell you of the days of high adventure,” intones the grizzled voiceover of the film’s narrator (Mako) before Basil Poledouris’ rousing, muscular score kicks in, playing over the opening credits, which sees Conan’s father (William Smith) crafting a mighty impressive sword. Conan and his family are Cimmerians who believe in the god Crom. In a nice scene, Conan’s father tells his son of Crom and instills in the boy the belief that you can trust no one in this life, only the steel of your sword.

A band of warriors known as the Vanir attack Conan’s village and slaughter its inhabitants. Conan’s father fights bravely, but is felled by overwhelming numbers. Conan’s mother (Nadiuska) is killed defending her son by Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones), leader of the Vanir and head of the snake-worshipping cult Set. Conan is taken and chained to something called the Wheel of Pain (which basically involves pushing a large object around in a circle) for fifteen long years with other children until only he remains having grown into a very strong man. Conan is then taken from there and forced to become a pit fighter where he becomes adept at hand-to-hand combat and proficient in all kinds of weapons.

Conan (Arnold Schwarzenegger) is educated in philosophy so that when asked, “What is best in life?” he responds with the immortal line, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you and to hear the lamentations of their women.” For Conan these are words to live by and when he is eventually and inexplicably set free, the Cimmerian does just that. With the first half hour of the film, Milius does an excellent job of introducing Conan and his world – a harsh and unforgiving place where only the strong survive. It is a world wrought with danger and populated with colorful characters most of whom are not to be trusted, like the witch that seduces Conan only to transform into a wild creature during sex. I like that Milius takes the time to show how Conan becomes a skilled fighter and builds himself up from nothing. In doing so, we get to know the character and empathize with him.

Conan sets out to find Thulsa Doom and kill him, thereby avenging his parents’ deaths. Along the way, he meets and befriends Subotai, the Mongol (Gerry Lopez) and an archer, and Valeria (Sandahl Bergman), a beautiful master thief. Like any good quest story, the journey is not an easy one and Conan is plagued by both external and internal dangers. He is pushed to the very limits of his physical endurance. Only when he can conquer his own fears can he complete his goal.

Unlike a lot of contemporary fantasy films that are augmented significantly by CGI, the world in Conan the Barbarian is tangible and real. As a result, it is more believable and Milius makes sure to immerse us in it with all kinds of sights and sounds, like the noisy marketplace that Conan, Subotai and Valeria wander through, that creates a world that you feel actually existed. This extends to the supernatural elements as well, which are done with practical effects and this gives them a texture that still holds up. This is evident in the sequence where Conan and his allies infiltrate a Set temple to steal a valuable gem, which awakens a giant snake that the barbarian must fight. Milius intercuts this with a Set ritual, which gives us some insight into their practices. More importantly, this sequence demonstrates what adept thieves Subotai and Valeria are and the unique skills they bring to the table. The snake is an impressive sight and one really gets a sense that Conan is in peril and I like how he doesn’t mess around with the creature, killing it outright when he gets the chance.

Milius wisely limits then-relative newcomer Arnold Schwarzenegger to the amount of dialogue he has to say and utilizes his considerable physical abilities to tremendous effect. The actor uses his body language to convey Conan’s feelings, which, admittedly, are pretty limited. That being said, Schwarzenegger certainly looks the part, which is obviously a crucial component of the role, but it is also how the actor carries himself throughout the film, in the way he walks or fights. He is committed fully to the part and takes it seriously. As a result, we believe that he is the character. This is why no one has inhabited the role as well since this film (including Schwarzenegger in the watered-down sequel). He also provides the occasional moment of levity (some of intentional, some not) in an otherwise serious film. For example, there’s a bit where Conan tries to infiltrate the Set cult as one of its priests and this is pretty amusing because he looks so out of place with his hulking frame. This seems a bit out of character from how Conan is portrayed in Howard’s stories, but Milius does try to justify this by showing that the barbarian has gotten foolishly over-confident with success and blinded by his desire to kill Doom. These moments of comedy would be a brief taste of what Schwarzenegger would be capable of in later films, from cheesy one-liners in action films, like Commando (1985) and Predator (1987), to flat out comedies like Twins (1988).

Sandahl Bergman is Schwarzenegger’s ideal foil, playing a fierce warrior woman that ends up falling in love with Conan. He does so because of her impressive fighting skills and cunning thieving abilities. And yet, the actress doesn’t play Valeria as an uncaring killing machine. Her relationship with Conan humanizes the character and Bergman conveys just the right mix of toughness and vulnerability – something that was sorely missing from the sequel and the remake. It doesn’t hurt that Bergman is a stunning beauty as well, which only adds to the appeal of Valeria.

Despite being outfitted with ridiculous-looking long hair, James Earl Jones is a suitably imposing Thulsa Doom. His famous deep, booming voice also enhances the actor’s performance, which is very theatrical in nature. This is evident in the monologue Doom gives when lecturing Conan on the nature of strength and power.

In the mid-1970s, film producer Ed Pressman was shown some of Frank Frazetta's paintings of Conan the Barbarian – the illustrator that helped revitalize interest in the character during the 1960s. Pressman thought that Conan might be right for a film adaptation. After meeting and being impressed by bodybuilder turned actor Arnold Schwarzenegger at a rough screening of Pumping Iron (1977), he envisioned the Austrian as Conan. However, it took from 1975 to 1977 for the legal issues to be untangled so that the film rights could be secured.

In 1977, Marvel Comics editor Roy Thomas was hired to write the screenplay and artist John Buscema worked on pre-production drawings. Both men had worked on hundreds of Conan comic books during the ‘70s. Pressman finally convinced Schwarzenegger to star in the film and a tentative budget was set at $2.5 million. At this point, Paramount Pictures offered to provide the money, but wanted a new script written by Oliver Stone, fresh from winning an Academy Award for writing Midnight Express (1978). He based his script on Conan stories, “Black Colossus,” and “A Witch Shall Be Born,” but deviated significantly from Howard’s mythos by setting the story in a post-apocalyptic future world. However, this approach escalated the estimated budget to $40 million. In addition, the search for a director was taking longer than expected with John Frankenheimer, Alan Parker and Ralph Bakshi considered. At one point, Ridley Scott was set to direct and then was dropped when John Milius agreed to direct.

At some point, Paramount was no longer involved and Milius was hired. He rewrote Stone’s script, secured financing from Dino De Laurentiis, and began pre-production work. Milius read Stone’s script and did not like it, but loved the character and the concept. According to Milius, he felt kinship with Howard’s worldview: “Howard and I have the same view of civilization. A skeptical one.” He felt that what Stone wrote had a lot of spirit and liked the freedom of its images. While working on the script, Milius drew inspiration from several Conan stories, including “The Thing in the Crypt”, “Tower of the Elephant”, and “Queen of the Black Coast.” He incorporated a few elements from them into the script and “tried constantly to work little pieces of the stories in whenever possible.” For example, he based the character of Valeria on Belit from “Queen of the Black Coast,” but the name came from the “Red Nails” story. He was also determined to deliver an R-rated sword and sorcery epic with plenty of bloody violence, including beheadings, dismemberments, and stabbings. Milius began writing the script in 1978 and spent nine months working on it.

To prepare for the film, Milius commissioned research papers on medieval snake and assassination cults, studied Mongol history and checked out ancient warfare and weaponry. He recruited collaborators that brought unique talents to the table. Chief among them was cartoonist and commercial illustrator Ron Cobb who had cut his teeth doing design work on genre films like John Carpenter’s Dark Star (1974), George Lucas’ Star Wars (1977), and Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979).

For Conan the Barbarian, he was made production designer and ended up creating over 57 interior and exterior sets, and converted two warehouses and an aircraft hangar into soundstages. During filming, he also supervised special effects and second unit direction. His main task was to create the fictional Hyborian Age on film, which included designing all of the architecture, most notably the Tower of Set. He designed the giant serpent and its tunnel lair in proportion to Schwarzenegger. The snake itself was an impressive 34 feet in length and approximately a foot-and-a-half across. Special effects supervisor Nick Allder constructed a cantilevered skeleton with a control platform that operated through the snake body to avoid visible outside wires. The result was a big and strong enough contraption that could actually push Schwarzenegger around while also paying tribute to Frank Frazetta’s iconic Conan paintings, which were used as inspiration for this sequence.

When it came to casting, early on Raquel Welch and Sean Connery were considered for the roles of Valeria and Thulsa Doom, respectively. In addition to Schwarzenegger, Milius cast Sandahl Bergman (recommended by none other than Bob Fosse!) and Gerry Lopez because they were physically adept with backgrounds in dance, and surfing, respectively. According to the director, “ordinarily actors wouldn’t have done those things because of their preconceived ideas going in.” Furthermore, the three lead actors “seemed better in the roles than anyone else, but there was always that doubt. I cast people who seemed to be the characters in the script.” Milius wanted the swordplay to look authentic and for the actors to do most of their own stunt work. To his end, he had the cast train for six months in broadsword fighting, kendo, horseback riding, and stunt work.

Principal photography was originally scheduled to begin in Yugoslavia in 1980, but the production had to pull out due to political and practical reasons. Eventually, Spain was chosen because of its excellent production facilities, diverse landscapes, and very experienced film crews. In addition, Milius had previously shot The Wind and the Lion (1975) there and was familiar with the country. Filming began in Spain on January 7, 1981 and lasted 19 weeks. To cut costs, the filmmakers staged all of the sorcery live and on location, which meant utilizing very few blue screens and no animation with many elaborate sets actually built, sometimes in conjunction with models and miniatures.

According to Cobb, Milius often directed from a motorcycle and worked fast, averaging two or three takes per shot and pushing for 15-20 camera set-ups a day. By many accounts, the shoot was an eventful one with several dicey moments, For example, in the scene where Conan emerges from a cave brandishing a newly found sword, he was to be confronted by a pack of hungry wolves. They were actually dogs and one of the larger ones jumped his cue and broke from the pack, hitting Schwarzenegger in the chest, which sent them both tumbling over a ten-foot cliff! The actor escaped seriously injury, but this incident, early on in filming, set the tone for the rest of principal photography. Never one to hold back, the director had a sometimes contentious relationship with De Laurentiis, comparing working for the mogul to “the foreign legion … His methods are … unsound. Dino’s just like bad weather, he’ll pass, but meanwhile you contend with it.” This may explain why Milius did not direct the sequel, Conan the Destroyer (1984).

Predictably, Conan the Barbarian was trashed by most mainstream critics with the notable exception of Roger Ebert who gave the film three out of four stars and felt that it was “a very nearly perfect visualization of the Conan legend,” and “a triumph of production design, set decoration, special effects and makeup.” However, in his review for The New York Times, Vincent Canby wrote, “As Conan, Mr. Schwarzenegger looks overdressed even when he is undressed, but then there is no way he can unzip that overdeveloped physique and slip into something more comfortable.” Newsweek magazine’s Jack Kroll wrote, “The sad thing is that there’s so little fun to Conan, its violence is so cheerless and styleless. Its action sequences seem edited defensively, to make sure there’s not too much blood, not too many decapitations, rather than for physical exhilaration and electric energy.” In his review for the Globe and Mail, Jay Scott wrote, “Anything that can be said against it can be said for it: the picture is an excessively brutal adventure comic book. An excessively brutal adventure comic book is exactly what is has set out to be – a medieval Heavy Metal.” Finally, the Washington Post’s Gary Arnold wrote, “The image of awesome, hyperbolic muscularity imposed by Frazetta is also meant to dominate the movie version, where it’s transformed into unintentional nonsense, thanks to the unfailing cloddishness of director John Milius.”

Milius’ direction is refreshingly straight-forward and doesn’t distract with unnecessary stylistic flourishes. Everything he does is in service of the story and the characters. That being said, the action sequences are well-staged – exciting and visceral with attention paid to what is going on and where everyone is so that we are never confused unlike a lot of action films today, which are edited within an inch of their lives. The action depicted on-screen is further enhanced by Basil Poledouris’ score, which is epic when it needs to be and intimate during the more reflective moments. It is a crucial component as to why Conan the Barbarian works as a rousing action/adventure film.

With Conan the Barbarian, Milius has created a film that doesn’t water down the violence or any of the other unabashedly pulpy elements that make it one of the best fantasy films ever made. Despite its success, Milius did not return for the sequel, Conan the Destroyer, which diluted the violence for a younger audience, but it was also missing that special something that Milius brought to his film. He managed to capture the spirit of Conan in a way that no one has done since, including the rather bland remake. A crucial ingredient that makes Conan the Barbarian superior to other films is that we care about what happens to Conan as well as Valeria, which makes his quest that much more personal. He is going after the bad guys to avenge loved ones and it is this personal element that resonates. Credit must go to Milius for getting us involved in these characters’ lives. He takes the time to have them reflect on what they’ve done and what they’ve lost. It’s not all wall-to-wall action, but also features moments that give us important insight into the characters, like Conan who is depicted as more than just a brutal killing machine.

Further reading: Check out Roderick Heath's fantastic take over at the Ferdy on Films blog.

SOURCES

Bruzenak, Ken. “The Making of an Adventure Epic – Conan the Barbarian.” Prevue #46.

Honeycutt, Kirk. “Milius the Barbarian.” American Film. May 1982.

Sammon, Paul M. “Conan the Barbarian – Filming Robert E. Howard’s Sword and Sorcery Epic.” Cinefantastique. April 1982.

Sammon, Paul M. “Milius the Director.” Cinefantastique. April 1982.

Steranko, Jim. “Milius.” Prevue #48.

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Queen of Blood / The Ambulance

BLOGGER'S NOTE: Kudos to MGM for following Warner Bros. lead by starting to offer some of their more obscure gems available through their Manufacturing-On-Demand (MOD) Platform. You’re essentially getting a very high quality DVD-R and with these new editions, fans can finally throw away their pan-and-scan VHS copies.

Released in 1966 as part of a double bill with fellow American International Pictures B-movie Blood Bath, Queen of Blood was assembled by director Curtis Harrington with footage from the Russian films, Mechte Navstrechu and Nebo Zovyot. It certainly has a distinctive look and atmosphere that suits its blend of horror and science fiction.


The opening credits play over a series of unsettling psychedelic paintings of what appears to be an alien landscape while appropriately creepy atmospheric music by Leonard Morand sets just the right mood of dread. Queen of Blood is set in 1990 where traveling to the Moon is no problem, space stations exist there, and the powers that be are looking into exploring Venus and Mars for signs of intelligent life. Cue cool looking shots of matte paintings depicting life on these planets and footage of an alien race in shadows, which gives an ominous teaser of what’s to come.

We soon meet our hero, Allan Brenner (John Saxon) as he has lunch with his girlfriend Laura James (Judi Meredith) and two fellow astronauts, Paul Grant (Dennis Hopper) and Tony Barrata (Don Eitner). This gives the filmmakers a chance for some wonderfully cheesy banter but you can tell that Dennis Hopper and John Saxon aren’t taking it all that seriously. Their lunch is interrupted by an announcement by Dr. Farraday (a slumming Basil Rathbone). He informs our heroes that they’ve finally received communication from an alien race that plans to send an ambassador to Earth.

The ambassador’s craft crashes on Mars and sends an SOS to Earth. So, Farraday sends Paul and Laura to check it out. When Paul and his crew run into trouble and find a dead alien on Mars, Alan and Tony fly there to help in the search for another alien craft. They find it and inside the sole survivor – a green-skinned female alien (Florence Marly). While the first two thirds of Queen of Blood is all set-up, in the last third all hell breaks loose when alien queen wakes up.

It’s wild to see Dennis Hopper play such a straight-laced role, especially during this period in his career when he had been blacklisted in Hollywood and was relegated to doing American International Pictures (AIP) films for Roger Corman. Just two years later, he would direct, co-write and star in Easy Rider (1969). John Saxon, god bless him, does his best to play the square-jawed hero of the film without a hint of irony. Florence Marly has such an expressive face, which is good because as the alien queen she has no dialogue and uses her creepy smile to captivate the male astronauts. In a nice touch, she also sports a fantastic beehive hairdo that also resembles an onion!

The 1960’s representation of alien beings looks great and oddly more “alien” than a lot of contemporary alien invasion films. It may be due to the fact that the style of that decade looks so foreign to us now. There is a simplicity to their look that is refreshing and the unsettling music really helps sell the otherworldly nature of these beings. The interior of the alien spacecraft evokes the style of Mario Bava’s Planet of the Vampires, released a year earlier in 1965. I love the wonderfully clunky-looking astronaut gear – their helmets are huge and don’t move at all, restricting movement in an awkward way. There’s something great about knowing that all the special effects in Queen of Blood were done by hand. It gives everything an authentic quality. It doesn’t have the unreal artificiality of a lot of CGI – no matter how good it looks you know that what you’re seeing doesn’t exist. The hand-made sets and special effects have a clunky charm all their own and this is one of the pleasures of this film.

Eric Roberts has had an odd career that never reached its full potential. In the early 1980’s, he was part of an exciting generation of up and coming actors that included the likes of Mickey Rourke, Sean Penn and Gary Oldman, and delivered intense, powerful performances in films like Star 80 (1983) and The Pope of Greenwich Village (1984). But then a combination of substance abuse problems and bad career choices soon found Roberts burning many bridges in Hollywood. He became a staple of direct-to-video dreck, popping up in the occasional mainstream film in a supporting role. Roberts ushered in the 1990’s with the cinematic oddity known as The Ambulance (1990), an offbeat thriller written and directed by cult film director Larry Cohen.


Josh Baker (Eric Roberts) is a comic book artist infatuated with a beautiful woman named Cheryl (Janine Turner) that he spots on the streets of New York City at the same time every day. In the middle of trying to sweet talk her into a date, she faints. An ambulance arrives and takes her away. After work, Josh goes to several hospitals in the area but they have no record of her. It turns out that she’s being held against her will at some secret facility that looks like it was lit right out Dario Argento’s Suspiria (1977). It turns out that Cheryl is being tormented by a creepy doctor (Eric Braeden) who likes to touch human skin through surgical gloves. Meanwhile, Josh seeks help from Lieutenant Spencer (James Earl Jones) and so begins a series of crazy misadventures that rival Martin Scorsese’s After Hours (1985) – albeit through Larry Cohen’s gonzo B-movie sensibilities.

Eric Roberts has dabbled in almost every film genre and played all kinds of roles but he’s known mostly for playing heavies. The Ambulance is a refreshing change of pace as he plays an idealistic romantic (who sports a spectacular mullet ‘do I might add). Josh is willing to go to great lengths to track down this mystery woman and Roberts portrays him as a genial motormouth type that Robert Downey Jr. has perfected over his career. It’s interesting because Roberts brings his customary intensity to the role but channels it in a way that is fascinating to watch. This character allows the actor to play a wide spectrum of emotions as he keeps up with the film’s wild, tonal shifts from romantic comedy to thriller. It is also fun to see him bounce off all sorts of oddball characters, like James Earl Jones’ angry police detective or Red Buttons’ sarcastic hospital patient or Eric Braeden’s creepy yet suave doctor. In a nice touch, Josh works at Marvel Comics (?!) and so we are treated to a cameo from Stan “The Man” Lee himself.

It is also interesting to see how Cohen slots a romantic character like Josh into this, at times, sinister thriller. And yet, the filmmaker subverts genre conventions with constant absurd flourishes that reflect Josh’s increasing (and warranted) paranoia. Cohen injects all sorts of inventive plot twists to keep us guessing just how The Ambulance is going to turn out. Will Josh find the girl of his dreams and rescue her from the evil doctor?
 

Star Wars Blogathon: Episode IV: A New Hope

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This post is part of the Star Wars Blogathon over at the SciFIDrive blog.

For many of my generation, the first Star Wars film (1977) was a defining moment of our childhood and so I always look back at it in a nostalgic way. I had the action figures, the coloring book, the calendar, the t-shirt, and so on – all part of the vast merchandising that helped build the George Lucas empire. But as a kid I wasn’t thinking about that – I loved the film and wanted to have everything associated with it, including the comic books and the novelization. The Star Wars I love is the original incarnation unmolested by Lucas’ awkward revisionist CGI makeover. The Star Wars I know and love has Han Solo (Harrison Ford) firing first. The film has been analyzed and written about extensively so I can only look at it from my perspective and offer various observations that always stick out in my mind whenever I watch it.

One of the reasons Star Wars works so well is because of a solid combination of engaging storytelling and groundbreaking (for its time) special effects. The coming-of-age story is as old as the hills and I’m sure that is part of the film’s appeal – its comforting familiarity. Young Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) leaves behind his life on a small, insignificant planet and becomes involved in an intergalactic civil war that involves rescuing a princess from the clutches of an evil empire. In the process, he grows up and becomes a man.

I still get goosebumps when I see that opening text, “A long time ago. In a galaxy far, far away...” And then, John Williams’ rousing score kicks in with a sudden blast from the horn section and we’re on our way. We get that iconic shot of the small Rebel Alliance spacecraft being pursued by an Empire Star Destroyer so massive it takes up at least three-quarters of the screen as it rumbles into view. We soon meet two of the film’s most endearing characters – C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker), droids that have a sometimes slapstick-y love/hate relationship a la Laurel and Hardy. 3PO is the eternal pessimist as evident from his declaration early on, “We’re doomed.” Of course, this is as the Empire prepares to board the Rebel spacecraft. 3PO and R2 play well off each other – the former whines about danger and complains about the conditions of Tatooine (the planet they escape to), while the latter clearly has a purpose, a mission that he must complete with or without his long-time companion. They bicker like an old married couple and even on his own, 3PO still bitches about R2.

Has there ever been a cooler introduction for a villain than the one for Darth Vader (David Prowse)? Having boarded the Rebel ship by force, he emerges from the smoke to survey the damage done. We immediately hear his ominous breathing, that unsettling raspy respirator sound – awesome! We soon hear James Earl Jones’ booming, authoritative voice (later on the voice of CNN no less!) which, coupled with David Prowse’s intimidating physical presence and the brilliantly black armor, creates an instantly memorable bad guy, a real force of evil. Lucas constantly reminds us what a badass Vader is in scenes like the one where he deals with one of his officers who dares to scoff at the power of the Force compared to the power of Empire’s new battle station, The Death Star. Vader warns him, “Don’t be too proud of this technological terror you’ve constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.”

Unconvinced, the guy foolishly insults Vader’s “sad devotion to that ancient religion” and, in response, the Dark Lord merely raises a hand and chokes the man from afar. Vader coolly and ominously replies, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” Now, how badass is that? It takes Peter Cushing’s bureaucrat Grand Moff Tarkin to step in and call Vader off. As evil as Vader is, Tarkin is on a whole other level. He destroys a planet populated by millions of innocent people just to make a point and teach Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) a lesson. How nasty is that? Vader just chokes a few guys which pales in comparison to what Tarkin does.

I always found it fascinating how the Jawas are basically the used car salesmen of the galaxy and they even try to pawn off a faulty droid to Luke and his Uncle Owen (Phil Brown). Mark Hamill’s take on Luke is right on the money, playing the character as a teenager on the verge of becoming a young man – someone who would rather pick up power converters over at Toschi Station than haggle over the price of droids with Jawas. His uncle sees right through Luke and chastises him, “You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done.” This little moment is one of the reasons why Star Wars appealed to a younger generation – they could relate to Luke’s disinterest in chores and his frustration of being stuck on his uncle’s farm. Who would rather hang out with their friends than get stuck doing boring chores? This is further reinforced in the scene where Luke talks to Aunt Beru (Shelagh Fraser) and Uncle Owen about transmitting his application to the Academy sooner rather than later but his uncle wants him to stick around for the harvest and another year. After Luke goes off in defeat, his aunt says, “Luke’s just not a farmer, Owen. He has too much of his father in him,” to which Owen replies, “That’s what I’m afraid of.” This conversation cleverly hints at earth-shattering revelations that come in the next film in the series, The Empire Strikes Back (1980). I just want to say how much I love the little moments of domesticity that Lucas shows here with Luke having a meal with his aunt and uncle or another scene where we see Aunt Beru (who I always struck by what a kind face she has and what a gentle person she appears to be) preparing some sort of meal. It humanizes these people in a short amount of time so that we care about what happens to them later on.

What I also like about the story is that Lucas makes it personal for Luke. His only reason for staying was to help out his aunt and uncle but when they are killed by Imperial Stormtroopers, his life as a farmboy dies that day. He’s got nothing left to lose and his innocence has been taken away from him forever. Lucas makes sure that we understand just how horrible the Empire is with a lingering shot of the aunt and uncle’s still smoking, charred skeletons, which was pretty shocking to me when I first saw the film at a very young, impressionable age. This scene ups the stakes and reinforces just how ruthless the Empire is and how personal it has gotten for Luke.

The casting of Alec Guinness as Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi was genius on Lucas’ part. With his classic British accent, he gives his dialogue a classy spin, perfect for the expositional dialogue his character imparts throughout the film. For example, early on he explains the nature of the Force to Luke: “The Force is what gives a Jedi his powers. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together.” What a great way to describe the Force – it’s succinct and doesn’t give too much away, just enough to let our imagination fill in the rest.

One of the most memorable scenes in Star Wars takes place in the Cantina at Mos Eisley (a place that Obi-Wan warns Luke is a “wretched hive of scum and villainy.”), a bar where all sorts of strange and unusual creatures hang out. Of course, the purpose of this sequence is for Luke and Ben to meet and hire Han Solo and Chewbacca (Peter Mayhew) to rescue Leia, but it is also a fantastic showcase for a memorable collection of exotic-looking alien creatures. There’s one that looks a little like Cousin It from The Addams Family, one that looks like the Wolfman, one that kinda looks like a devil with two horns sprouting out of the top of his head, and so on. The diversity of these creatures is so fascinating that I just like rewatching this sequence to check out all of the various creatures. This sequence has gone on to inspire several other films, including Nightbreed (1990), Serenity (2005), and Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008). The aliens in Star Wars don’t look cute and cuddly but strange and dangerous. Lucas reinforces this by having Luke bullied by two lowlifes until Obi-Wan steps in with his mad lightsaber skills.

How cool is Han Solo? We meet him haggling with Obi-Wan over the price of taking them to Alderaan and Han tries to impress his prospective clients with the speed and reputation of his spacecraft the Millennium Falcon. However, after their meeting, Han runs into Greedo, a bounty hunter collecting a sizable debt that the smuggler owes notorious gangster Jabba the Hutt. Han acts cool and casual, keeping Greedo talking while he quietly unholsters his gun and blasts the bounty hunter before he can shoot him. How badass is Han? Harrison Ford plays it so well – all cool and accommodating to Greedo so that he has time to get the drop on him. It’s this scene that establishes Ford’s character – is he a bad guy or a good guy? You’re never really sure until the end of the film and this is due in large part to Ford’s performance as a cocky smuggler who only looks out for himself.

I also like Han’s simple philosophy, like when he scoffs at the notion of the Force: “Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side ... I’ve flown from one side of the galaxy to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff but never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all powerful force controlling everything. There’s no mystical energy field controls my destiny. It’s all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense.” He provides a lot of the film’s moments of humor, like when Luke tries to convince him to rescue Leia by appealing to his greed, or his constant bickering with her. As he tells Luke at one point, “Wonderful girl. Either I’m gonna kill her or I’m beginning to like her.” Han and Leia end up bantering like a couple in a vintage screwball comedy and this is carried over to an even more memorable degree in The Empire Strikes Back.

Another exciting scene is the one where our heroes escape the Death Star while Han and Luke man the Falcon’s laser cannons. Lucas uses editing and Williams’ stirring score to make this scene even more dynamic. It’s a nice warm-up for the climactic sequence where a squadron of Rebel Alliance X-Wing fighters launch an attack on the Death Star. Not only do the Rebels have to worry about the Imperial TIE Fighters, but also the battle station’s laser cannons. Also adding urgency to the assault is the ever-looming threat of the Death Star on the verge of eradicating the Rebel base located on the moon of Yavin. Luke finally gets to show off his piloting skills while many of his comrades are blown up. It doesn’t hurt that he’s aided by Obi-Wan’s disembodied voice and the Force. The use of models in this sequence gives it a more tangible quality, a realness that is missing from most CGI-heavy science fiction films nowadays. This sequence gets even more exciting when Luke and the surviving Rebel X-Wings descend into the trenches of the Death Star to bomb its weak spot. Lucas is able to convey a real sense of speed and urgency that is thrilling, especially when the Millennium Falcon comes from out of nowhere to give Luke the opportunity to destroy the Death Star.

Some feel that Star Wars looks dated and I would agree but for me that is a large part of its appeal, sideburns and all. Watching it instantly takes me back to when I first saw it and the rush of excitement and wonder that I felt as it unspooled before my eyes. It is one of those pivotal moviegoing experiences that I have never forgotten. While I think that The Empire Strikes Back is the better film in terms of story, pacing, characterization, action, etc., Star Wars is the film I enjoy watching the most for all of the reasons stated above. I think that a review in the now-defunct Sci-Universe magazine sums it up best: “even today, would-be sci-fi franchise-builders haven’t learned the lessons about what made Star Wars a cinematic landmark; compelling, but flawed, characters and attention to the smallest pieces of minutiae.”

Feel free to share your memories and thoughts about Star Wars.

The Hunt for Red October

Has it really been 20 years since The Hunt For Red October (1990) was released in theaters? It has aged surprisingly well. Fresh off his back-to-back successes of Predator (1987) and Die Hard (1988), director John McTiernan was at the top of his game. He had become the go-to guy for big budget, blockbuster action films. So, it made sense that he would be entrusted with kickstarting a potential franchise with Red October, an adaptation of Tom Clancy’s best-selling novel of the same name, in the hopes of launching a series of films featuring recurring Clancy protagonist Jack Ryan. Paramount Pictures wasn’t taking any chances, casting screen legend Sean Connery and pairing him up with up-and-coming movie star Alec Baldwin. The result, not surprisingly, was box office gold and arguably the strongest entry in the Jack Ryan franchise.

It's the mid-1980s and the Cold War is at its peak. American Naval Intelligence discovers that the Russians have created the perfect nuclear submarine — one that can run completely silent. CIA analyst Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin) is called in to confirm that this is true, but at the meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, he puts forth a radical theory: the sub-commander of this new submarine, Captain Marko Ramius (Sean Connery), may actually be trying to defect and not trying to start World War III as they all fear. This is further complicated when the Russians report that they've lost all contact with Ramius. The powers that be send Ryan into the field in the hopes that he can contact the Russian sub-commander before his countrymen blow him out of the water. The film becomes a race against time as Ryan boards the USS Dallas, the American sub closest to the Red October, and convinces its commander (Scott Glenn) that Ramius plans to defect.

McTiernan does a nice job of showing the camaraderie aboard the USS Dallas in a brief scene where the captain of the sub tells a story about how fellow crew member Seaman Jones (Courtney B. Vance) had Pavarotti blasting over the sound system during an exercise with other subs in their fleet. It’s a nice moment of levity amidst this generally serious film. McTiernan also doesn't bog the film down with an overabundance of technical jargon. And what techno-speak there is in the film is spoken expertly by the cast in a way that is understandable. You may not understand it but you know what they mean.

Along with Das Boot (1981), Red October remains one of the few decent submarine films. And this is because McTiernan builds the tension with the right amount of white-knuckled intensity. The film attempts to maintain the suspense of whether Ramius has gone rogue or is defecting for as long as it can but since Sean Connery is playing the character this removes all doubt as to his true intentions. Connery playing a villain at this stage in his career? Ridiculous! The first hour of Red October is all set-up as the film establishes the major players and their intentions. Then, it shifts into an elaborate game of cat and mouse as both the Russians and the Americans pursue Ramius. If that wasn’t enough, McTiernan ratchets up the tension with the discovery of a saboteur aboard the Red October.

After reading the galley proofs of Tom Clancy’s novel The Hunt for Red October in February 1985, producer Mace Neufeld optioned it. The book went on to become a best-seller and still no Hollywood studio was interested because of its complicated technical jargon. Neufeld said, “I read some of the reports from the other studios, and the story was too complicated to understand.” After 18 months, he finally got a high-level executive at Paramount Pictures to read Clancy’s novel and agree to develop it into a film.

Screenwriters Larry Ferguson and Donald Stewart worked on the screenplay while Neufeld approached the United States Navy in order to get their approval. Initially, they were uncertain because of the fear that top secret information or technology might be exposed. Fortunately, several admirals were fans of Clancy’s book and argued that the film could do for submariners what Top Gun (1986) did for the Navy’s jet fighter pilots. To that end, the director of the Navy’s western regional information office in Los Angeles offered possible changes to the script that would make the Navy look good.

Alec Baldwin was approached to appear in the Red October in December 1988 but was not told for what role. Austrian actor Klaus Maria Brandauer was cast as Marko Ramius but unfortunately two weeks into film he had to quit due to a prior commitment. The producers quickly faxed a copy of the script to Sean Connery. Initially, he declined the offer because the script didn’t make any sense. It turned out that he was missing the first page which stated that the film was set in the past during the Cold War. He agreed to do it and arrived in Los Angeles on a Friday and was supposed to start filming on Monday but he asked for a day to rehearse in order to get into the role.

The Navy gave the production unparalleled access to their submarines, allowing them to take pictures of unclassified sections of the USS Chicago and USS Portsmouth for set and prop design. Key cast and crew members took rides in subs including Alec Baldwin and Scott Glenn, both of whom took an overnight trip on the USS Salt Lake City. To research for his role, Glenn temporarily assumed the identity of a submarine captain on board the USS Houston. The crew took “orders” from Glenn, who was being prompted by the sub’s commanding officer.

Shooting in actual submarines was deemed impractical and in their place five soundstages on the Paramount backlot were used with two 50-foot square platforms housing mock-ups of the Red October and the USS Dallas were built. They stood on top of hydraulic gimbals that simulated the sub’s movements. Connery remembered, "It was very claustrophobic. There were 62 people in a very confined space, 45 feet above the stage floor. It got very hot on the sets, and I'm also prone to sea sickness. The set would tilt to 45 degrees. Very disturbing.”

With The Hunt for Red October, Alec Baldwin was being groomed for A-list leading man status. Prior to this film he had appeared in an impressively diverse collection of films, playing a bland, dead Yuppie in Beetlejuice (1988), an unfaithful greaseball boyfriend in Working Girl (1988), and an unscrupulous radio station manager in Talk Radio (1988). Throughout Red October, Ryan is constantly proving his credentials to veteran military officers that he encounters, including a memorable briefing with a group of generals where he puts one of them in their place after the man condescendingly scoffs at his theory about Ramius.

After all this time has passed and two other actors have assayed the role, Alec Baldwin is still the best Jack Ryan for my money. He brings a solid mix of serious action hero with a whimsical sense of humor to his version of Ryan that is sorely missing from the stuffy, no-nonsense approach of Harrison Ford and the wooden acting of Ben Affleck. Baldwin instills a certain warmth and humanity in Ryan that is a refreshing contrast to the technology that dominates the film. Baldwin does a good job of conveying Ryan’s intelligence – after all, he’s a thinking man’s action hero – but he has his doubts and this humanizes the character.

With his baggage of iconic movie roles, Sean Connery is well-cast as the confident Ramius. There is a scene where he tells his inner circle of defectors his true intentions. Calmly eating his dinner, Ramius tells them, “Anatoli, you’re afraid of our fleet, hmm? Well, you should be. Personally, I give us one chance in three.” Connery says this in casual fashion as only he can. I suppose I believe him as a Russian sub commander as much as I believe him as an Irish cop in The Untouchables (1987). Which is to say not so much but it’s Sean freakin’ Connery, dammit! He’s the most virile Scottish actor alive today. He was James Bond and Indiana Jones’ father fer chrissakes! He pulls off the role through sheer charisma. Who else could play the enigmatic veteran commander of the entire Russian Navy? Connery has the gravitas and the iconic cinematic presence to make him seem like the ideal choice to play Ramius.

The Hunt for Red October features a stellar cast of fantastic character actors supporting Connery and Baldwin. Two of Ramius’ senior crew members are played by Sam Neill and Tim Curry. Neill is excellent as Connery’s no-nonsense second-in-command who defends him against the other defectors who doubt Ramius’ motivations but in private he voices his own concerns. You’ve got Scott Glenn as the commander of the USS Dallas, James Earl Jones as Ryan’s superior and friend, and Stellan Skarsgard as the Russian sub commander hunting down Ramius. Richard Jordan even pops up in a small but memorable part as the President’s National Security Adviser and talks like how I imagine most politicians do when they are among their own. At one point, he tells Ryan, “Listen, I’m a politician which means I’m a cheat and a liar, and when I’m not kissing babies, I’m stealing their lollipops, but it also means that I keep my options open.” It takes a special kind of actor to come in and knock it out of the park with very little screen time but Jordan does it so well and makes it look easy.

When it was released in 1990, The Hunt for the Red October was not well-received by critics from several major publications but still managed to be one of the top grossing films of the year. Leading the charge was the Washington Post’s Hal Hinson who criticized the film in his review, commenting, "Nothing much happens, at least not onscreen ... There isn't much to look at. When the action sequences finally come, the underwater images are murky and impossible to follow." In his review for The New York Times, Vincent Canby wrote, "Mr. McTiernan is not a subtle director. Punches are pulled constantly. The audience is told by word and soundtrack music when it should fear the worst, though the action on the screen gives the lie to such warnings." Newsweek magazine’s David Ansen wrote, "But it's at the gut level that Red October disappoints. This smoother, impressively mounted machine is curiously ungripping. Like an overfilled kettle, it takes far too long to come to a boil." However, Roger Ebert called it "a skillful, efficient film that involves us in the clever and deceptive game being played.”

Techno-thrillers don't get any better than this film — you've got Baldwin as the reluctant hero who steps up when he has to, casting Connery with his iconic presence as the enigmatic Ramius, and a top notch supporting cast of character actors. Add to this, expert direction from McTiernan and you've got the best Jack Ryan film to date. Sadly, this would be his last really good film. With the exception of The Thomas Crown Affair (1999), he has struggled with the tiresome Medicine Man (1992), signed on for the redundant Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995) and finally taken up residence in Hacksville with the brainless Rollerball remake (2002). Watching The Hunt for Red October again is a sobering reminder of what a good director he used to be.

SOURCES

Donohoe, Cathryn. “Red October Surfaces As A Movie.” Washington Times. March 2, 1990.

Spillman, Susan. “Submarine Thriller Took 6 Years to Sail From Book to Film.” USA Today. March 2, 1990.

Thomas, Bob. “High-Tech Novel Took Five Years to Reach Screen.” Associated Press. March 2, 1990.

Van Gelder, Lawrence. “At the Movies.” The New York Times. April 27, 1990.