Midnight Movie of the Week #204 - Se7en

"If we catch John Doe and he turns out to be the devil, I mean if he's Satan himself, that might live up to our expectations, but he's not the devil. He's just a man."

(1995) 

Starring: Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kevin Spacey.

Directed by David Fincher.

Rated R for some seriously sick stuff, including creepy fat corpse, nearly dead dude with no tongue, knife rape, and Brad Pitt saying the F word a lot.

Seven in Six Words:

Serial killer makes world seem doomed.

Why You'll Love It:

Less than twenty years after its release, Seven (I can only type that number in place of the V so many times before I go crazy) is one of the more well known serial killer films ever made. It spawned a sea of imitators, in both plot and style, but none of them matched the bleak outlook of Fincher's film or its vivid message about society's evils. Most impressive to me is how the director turns an unnamed metropolis (it feels like New York, but the script intentionally avoids labeling it as such) into a kind of purgatory, with Freeman's character often summing up the despair that lives in this place perfectly. 

The Highlights:

• It's probably not too soon to reveal the plot's surprises, but for the sake of anyone who might not have seen it I'll tread lightly. But it's safe to say that the reveal of the killer and the final step in his plan is what gives this film its initial power over the viewer.
• After the film's been seen and the surprise has been revealed, the film takes on added meaning upon repeat viewings. References to literature about hell and the deadly sins that provide the killer's gimmick are obvious clues to the filmmaker's intentions, and for me they've seemed to improve with age.
• Pitt was dismissed by many as the average "hot" young star around the time of release, but his performance here deserves more praise than it has received. There are moments where he's in tune with his Oscar nominated performance from 12 Monkeys during the same year, and his character's chaotic mindset is perfect opposite those who accept the fate that surrounds them in this bleak setting. 

Also Worth Knowing:

• Pitt only got the part in the film after Denzel Washington turned the role down, saying the film was "dark and evil." He regretted his decision after he saw the film, which may be why he starred in Seven imitator Fallen shortly after.
• As noted earlier, the location of the film is intentionally not revealed. Screenwriter Andrew Kevin Walker has noted that he was inspired by his time in New York City, but did not want to saddle the film with any specific location that would mute the setting's power.
• Dreamers, take note: Walker was relatively unknown at the time of production and had written his script while working at a Tower Records store.

Seven is for fans of...
A-list stars doing dark things, serial killer mind games on film, surprise cameos, religious allegories, Morgan Freeman's soothing vocal patterns, and rain.

If You Like This, You Might Also Like...
Theatre of Blood (1973)
Taxi Driver (1976)
Copycat (1995)
Primal Fear (1996)
Arlington Road (1999)
Mr. Brooks (2007)

Midnight Movie of the Week #201 - Fortress

The prevailing message of most Australian horror films - or at least most of the ones I've seen - is that you're pretty much screwed if you're not safely in a big city. Many Aussie flicks, like '70s masterpieces Walkabout and Wake in Fright (a rather obscure little gem that y'all should find in its new blu-ray format), former Midnight Movie of the Week Roadgames, and modern torture flick Wolf Creek, warn us about traveling in less populous areas of that island continent, while others like Dead Calm and Rogue focus on watery dangers around the terrain. I'm not sure what it is about Australia that makes people so afraid of traveling around or being in rural areas, but there's definitely something there that they want people to be afraid of.

A newly found entry into the "dangers of Australia" subgenre is Fortress, in which a teacher (Rachel Ward of the Phil Collins-flavored '80s drama Against All Odds) and her students are abducted from a one-room school house by a group of men in masks who throw them in a cave and ask for a ransom. Naturally, the kids don't like this, but their teacher gets them pumped up and a little bit of a war for survival follows.

Fortress was originally released on HBO in late 1985, as the network put up half of the budget in exchange for debut rights. But no punches were pulled for the TV broadcast, and the result is a survival thriller that still feels as sleazy and violent as theatrical productions of the era. The film tiptoes around some of the violence due to the cast of young characters, but still offers a few surprisingly vicious moments, like a well placed severed head in the middle of the film.

More tension comes from the trio of kidnappers, whose appearance in various masks - one a duck, one a cat, and one as Santa Claus (or, to these Aussie kids, Father Christmas) - reminded me of the aggressors in recent horror favorite You're Next. The kidnappers are large men (one of them is played by the well-known Vernon Wells, who co-starred in The Road Warrior and Commando, and also appeared in Stuart Gordon's unrelated 1992 sci-fi film Fortress) who look even bigger next to the young children and their feminine teacher. There's a definite statement about male domination of women and children being made here, and director Arch Nicholson does a good job of building up the difference in size and strength between the kidnappers and their victims.

But the film gets most interesting when it puts power back in the hands of our teacher and her students, who adapt to their surroundings in attempts to first survive and later fight back.  Ward gives a solid performance in the lead, but all of the children around her do a fine job of keeping the film moving. By the time the teacher and her students are ready to take a stand the film has already created a large amount of empathy for the characters, which leads to a final act that wraps the film up in a manner that is both satisfying and chilling. And the end result leaves Fortress as a great piece of survival cinema and one more example of why you appear to be safer if you never go to less populous parts of Australia.

Midnight Movie of the Week #187 - Red Rock West

I know what my film history professors in college taught me. (Well, I know most parts of it. I wasn't buying all they had to offer.) I know that, according to them and an article by Paul Schrader, film noir was a movement and not a genre. It lasted from The Maltese Falcon through Touch of Evil, and then it was done. According to them, nothing else is noir.

I don't mean to quibble with a professor who had a hand fetish and the writer of Taxi Driver, but there a few movies I've seen since then that make me think of Sam Spade or a Mexican Charlton Heston; movies that make me think I should never trust attractive women and movies that make me assume there's at least one sociopathic killer in every bar. The trendy thing to say about these movies is that they're "neo-noir" - which implies to me that they're inferior knock offs of film noir - but every once in a while one of these films hits all the right notes and makes me reconsider what I was once taught. (Which, of course, is something we should always do anyway. Hooray for contrarianism!)

(Is contrarianism even a word? If not, I call dibs on inventing it.)

Which brings us to today's film, Red Rock West. Directed by John Dahl (who also co-wrote the film with his brother Rick), it's a deadly game between an honest man, a deadly man, a corrupt man, and...a woman. Being noir (or at the least noiresque), it's not fair for me to put a qualifier on the woman character. Is she honest? Is she deadly? Is she corrupt? You could shake a Magic 8 Ball and get a more consistent answer than I could give you about the women of noir.  There's like five books I could write about them and I'd probably still miss several key points.

Nicolas Cage stars as Michael Williams, an ex-marine who is roaming the Wyoming countryside looking for work and stumbles into the middle of a murder scheme. Cage plays the character with his trademark twitch, but also stays true to that unhinged-yet-pure-hearted persona that he seemed to hit so well in the mid '90s. He gets caught up in that unrewarding cycle of trying to do the right thing, with his biggest mistake being that he accidentally accepts a gig as a professional killer. He thought the guy needed a bartender, but instead the guy needed someone whacked. I'm sure this happens all the time. So remember: Don't forget to ask what the job you're accepting is before you accept it.

The man who mistakenly hires Michael is played by the late J.T. Walsh, one of the '90s sleaziest character actors, and his wife is played seductively by a young Lara Flynn Boyle, who embraces the role of femme fatale with ease. Their dynamic with Cage's character allows for plenty of great interactions as the drifter tries to find the easiest exit from the small town of Red Rock that is left for him. The plot survives thanks to Michael's extreme string of bad luck, particularly when he stumbles into the film's most unhinged character - Lyle from Dallas, the hitman who Michael accidentally impersonated who is played by no less than Dennis Hopper.

By this point in his career anyone who loves dark cinema had seen what Hopper is capable of, and his turn as the killer here steals scenes throughout the film. He's not as crazy as he was in films like Blue Velvet, instead making Lyle seem like a relatively smart guy who just really enjoys money and killing. While all four of the film's stars are excellent - this is one of the most fantastic casting jobs I can think of in a movie - it's Hopper's energy in his scenes that really keeps Red Rock West feeling dangerous and exciting. Thanks to him we feel even more sympathy for our down on his luck hero, and at times he even makes us feel a little sympathy for Wayne and Suzanne, despite their attempts to kill each other.

Red Rock West doesn't look like the traditional noir - or the traditional midnight movie, to be honest - but it's so well-plotted by Dahl and so well acted by the cast that it overcomes all the cliches with ease. It's a little-movie-that-could, one that was even sold to HBO and premiered on cable before getting picked up and distributed theatrically, but it has always jumped off the screen at me as a truly special pulp thriller. Above all else, it's my favorite argument toward the idea that maybe noir didn't die off for good in 1958. The rain and the overcoats are (mostly) gone, but Red Rock West still feels like it belongs next to some of Hollywood's darkest crime stories.

Midnight Movie of the Week #184 - Mute Witness

I love being able to call a movie "Hitchcokian" almost as much as I love Hitchcock. Heck, saying a movie is Hitchcockian - which means "feels like a movie Hitchcock would approve of or make himself" in my mind - is my way of saying a movie has made it in this world. In my mind it's like Hitchcock is Roy Hobbs at the end of The Natural and I'm Bobby Savoy and the movie I get to call Hitchcockian is the Savoy Special. That's how awesome I feel when I can say it and mean it, and I don't care if that reference is nearly thirty years old and doesn't fit my blog and may be a little obscure. "Go pick me out a winner, Bobby" is one of the most uplifting movie moments of EVER, and that's how I feel about great Hitchcock clones.

Which brings us to Mute Witness, a 1994 thriller that's full of holes but has this wonderful manic energy that teams with a devilishly playful script to create something twisted that you just know would make Hitch smile. The plot revolves around a young, mute woman who is working as a special effects artist on a Russian horror film and just happens to stumble upon the filming of a snuff film. I don't want to explain what a snuff film is to you innocent readers - I didn't learn about them until I was 17 and my mom took me to see 8mm - but I don't really want you to google it either. So, I'll just go ahead and say that you need to prepare for a sex scene with a murder at the end and leave it at that. Is it uncomfortable to see that? You betcha. Does it ramp up the tension for everything that's going to follow it? Absolutely.

Considering the plot, the film could also draw a viewer's mind to Hitchcock homages made by Brian De Palma like Blow Out and Body Double. Writer/director Anthony Waller doesn't shy away from brutality and bloodletting, but at the same time the film always has that sinister charm that keeps you feeling safe while watching it. If there's one thing that sets a Hitchcock thriller apart from most other films is that there's this perfect balance where you feel in danger while also feeling like you're having fun. It's what I call the roller coaster principle, and Waller - like Hitchcock and De Palma before him - understands that principle.

The key to any good roller coaster movie is that the pace can't follow a formula. There are always going to be ups and downs, but if we get into a rhythm and start to expect them they lose their power over us. Mute Witness gets this. It starts off with a bang - the snuff filming happens way earlier than you would expect to see snuff filming in a movie - and there are a few moments after that shock where the viewer is left wondering if there are any more thrills to be had. Patience will pay off for the viewer, as the film always seems to have something new coming with the next twist.

Russian actress Marina Zudina takes the lead as Billie, the mute special effects girl, and is fantastic throughout the film. Considering the fact that her Wikipedia page discusses her aspirations to be an opera singer and her musical background, I'm going to go ahead and assume she's not mute in real life. But I would never have believed that based on the film - in fact, I've seen it 3 or 4 times and I just now made the connection that she might not be mute and now I feel kind of in shock and it's derailing this whole paragraph. Thanks to Zudina's performance - by far the most polished in the film - Billie is a fun character to be stuck in a mystery with as she comes up with some very unique (and R-rated) ways to interact with her surroundings while not speaking.

The film is also slightly infamous thanks to a cameo from a "Mystery Guest Star" who agreed to speak a handful of lines for the film as long as he wasn't mentioned in the film's advertising. As such, I have chosen not to list his name here - but I will tell you he once built a bridge and at another time used Force. You can look it up on IMDB, but to do so might spoil one of the most overly dramatic reveals in the history of movies. To say that Waller milks this star's presence for all it's worth would be a huge understatement. As the music swells around him and the camera lingers as his faces peeks out from a darkly lit car I half expected Humphrey Bogart to show up as an evil mastermind. (SPOILER ALERT: It's not Humphrey Bogart.)

Mute Witness has some problems - bad acting from the supports and a few lulls between shocks are the biggest of them - but then that sly Hitchcockian/De Palmaesque attitude shows up on the screen and it's nearly impossible to avoid being hooked. This is a high concept thriller full of surprises, a crowd pleasing film that should keep anyone who can find the fun in murder smiling. If nothing else, it should do the same thing a good roller coaster does - distract you from reality and keep you anticipating the next thrill.

Midnight Movie of the Week #171 - Murder By Decree

A few months back I covered the other movie from 1979 in which a famous literary name tracked Jack the Ripper (that would be Time After Time, of course), so it's only fair that I let Sherlock Holmes follow in H.G. Wells' steps and track Whitechapel's most infamous knifeman too. Which brings us to Murder By Decree, a grimy and serious attempt to investigate the Ripper with Holmes and Watson leading the charge.

Directed by Bob Clark, whose versatility as a filmmaker is a thing of legend, Murder By Decree exists in a London where the sun never seems to shine, the fog never seems to lift, and the prostitutes don't at all look like Hollywood actresses. I'm serious on that last point too. Heather Graham isn't walking through that door. Instead, we're left realizing that Jack the Ripper was a seriously disturbed fella - and also wondering why anyone back in the day would pay a few quid for some of those old hags.  Sorry, did I get off track? Yeah, I think I did.

Or maybe I didn't, because I think the grimy prostitute issue makes a point. While the film is on the surface a Sherlock Holmes mystery, the script also unabashedly digs into the political and social climate of less fortunate districts of London in the late 1800s. The Jack the Ripper era has been romanticized so often on screen, and Murder By Decree counteracts these portrayals by refusing to make the situation look more glamorous than it is. Clark's previous work on films like Black Christmas and Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things showed a similar talent for keeping death ugly, but the tone of Murder by Decree doesn't offer near as many moments of levity or humor as those films did.

Thanks to this unrelenting tone, Murder By Decree functions kind of like Alfred Hitchcock's masterful Vertigo did more than twenty years earlier, because the winding plot keeps our eyes fixated on the screen and our mind wondering about what it all means.  Neither film really ever takes a break to let us really collect our thoughts, it just keeps moving at its own seductive pace. As is the case with any good mystery - and any Sherlock Holmes story - any missed detail might be the one that trips the case. This isn't a Scooby Doo style mystery either, and Clark and screenwriter John Hopkins don't provide many easy clues to solving the enigma that is Jack the Ripper.  Historians will no doubt notice some connections to the real case and some conspiracy theories that have become popular in some circles, but also offers some unique perspective on the infamous killer.

Of course, none of this would be interesting if the cast involved couldn't handle the film, so it's delightful to see that the casting is so darn fantastic here. Christopher Plummer and James Mason star as Holmes and Watson, respectively, and each is an inspired choice for their role. It's weird to watch the two actors - who I relate to much different eras in film - play off each other, but they have a natural chemistry. The once suave Mason is probably the film's biggest asset as Watson, balancing the character's gruff exterior with the astute wit instilled upon him by Holmes. He does seem to imitate Nigel Bruce - my favorite Watson by FAR - a bit, but doesn't go too far that the role doesn't feel like his own.

Plummer, on the other hand, seems to transition smoothly into the role of Holmes. It's a perfect casting idea and Plummer seems to relish one of his few chances to be the lead performer in a picture. He manages to hit on many of the trademarks of the Holmes character but he, like Mason, never seems to be just going through the motions. And when it is time for him to relate his findings in the final act, there is not a wasted word - it's one of the most well-delivered segments I've ever seen wrap up a murder mystery. It's also worth noting that these stars are assisted by a dynamite supporting cast, with folks like David Hemmings, Donald Sutherland and Sir John Gielgud adding respectability to the story.

Murder By Decree is not for everyone, and it's still kind of surprising to me that such a humorless film came from the director who would soon be directing Porky's and A Christmas Story. It works as a Holmes movie and it works as a Ripper film and it even works as a commentary on poverty in London near the turn of the century. Most impressively, it never loses its grasp on any of these major themes, keeping everything together for over two hours. When you consider it all together, Murder by Decree holds up as one of the most well-constructed mysteries on film.

Midnight Movie of the Week #167 - The Salton Sea

A crime drama centered in the world of California meth users isn't the kind of film you'd normally find in the Midnight Movie of the Week spotlight, but there's nothing normal about The Salton Sea.  A multi-layered story of revenge and rebirth that centers on an informant who is stuck in a real world purgatory, D.J. Caruso's film is one of my favorite hidden treats of the new millennium. It's a film that I found fascinating when I first saw it more than a decade ago - I was a college kid and it was undeniably cool - but as I watch it now I'm even more fascinated by it.

Val Kilmer stars as a meth-head who is actually a police informant, more commonly known as a snitch.  But it's clear from the opening that this man, known presently as Danny Parker, has a different moral code than most of his methamphetine abusing acquaintances. As he moves through this underworld of "tweakers" he interacts with a rich supporting cast that features plenty of talented actors in unique roles.  As Danny works his way around this world of users, dealers, and cops, he finds himself sinking deeper into a mystery that seems to swallow him whole.

In my professional life in the real world, I've heard the word "snitch" used as one of the most damning insults of a person's character more often than I can count. I get the mindset behind the "snitches get stitches" mantra that has permeated the culture of drug use - it's the same as playing in the playground as kids, when mom doesn't see it it doesn't happen unless someone tells her - but it always amazes me at how much this ideal is accepted. You walk into a room with a bunch of potheads - and comparing potheads to meth users is like comparing toddlers on a tumbling mat to Olympic gymnasts - and they're going to tell you that snitches get stitches in the same tone they would use to tell you the sky is blue. It's become a fact in drug circles, and it's an almost unwritten part of The Salton Sea's tense plot. No one ever says "Hey, this guy's a snitch, he's in danger" - but it's understood from the first time we learn about Danny Parker's role.

The negative stigma that surrounds his secret makes every relationship Danny has a bit difficult. Some of these relationships are just awkward, like the one with his tweaker best friend, played by a young and mullety Peter Sarsgaard or the ones with the more volatile-but-light-hearted tweakers, led by Adam Goldberg. Other relationships - one with a completely nonsensical dealer played by Glenn Plummer in a fantastic cameo, another with a diabolical distributor played by a noseless Vincent D'Onofrio - are dangerous to Danny's life. And then there's the triad of lawmen he's working with - played by Doug Hutchinson, Anthony LaPaglia, and B.D. Wong (as a cowboy-themed FBI agent - who are obviously using Danny for their own needs.  There's a sense of dread much like what you'd find in a classic film noir, because the lead character is clearly on his own if he wants to meet his own goals.

Danny's reasons for what he does are expanded as the film goes on, and what begins as a look into a bizarre subculture of bizarre Los Angeles evolves into a more meaningful and profound film. But the film never loses its sense of humor along the way, as the script is peppered with oddities that keep us surprised by whatever comes next. I won't spoil all the reveals, but let's just say that brain-eating and genitalia being stuck in a badger's cage are two examples of The Salton Sea's bizarre world. (By the way, one of those examples leads to one of the all-time great mantras on film, "People say a lot of things when they're sportin' badger food for a pecker!")

Like cinema's most mysterious treasures, The Salton Sea is better appreciated after the final credits roll. The ending is true to the film's noir roots - which means it is a little over narrated and a slight bit melodramatic - but looking back at the film as a whole makes me recognize that its heart is in the right place. The Salton Sea is a fascinating look into a dark society that doesn't lose sight of where it wants to go. Despite the well-known cast and the assist of producer Frank Darabont, The Salton Sea has been lost in the years since its limited release in 2002. But I assure you that this film, like the truth that Danny Parker seeks, is worth finding.

(By the way, that's an awful trailer. The movie doesn't have the plot or tone it implies. Think noir!)

Midnight Movie of the Week #142 - The Game

As I revisited The Game for the first time in several years this week - thanks to an immaculate restoration by the good folks of the Criterion Collection - I quickly noticed that I couldn't get what my football coach would have called a "shit-eating grin" off of my face.  If you've seen the film - and if you bought what the ending was selling - you know exactly why I had that problem.  Like many of the bravest thrillers ever made, The Game throws all of its weight behind one idea that will be revealed in the film's final minutes, for better or worse.  And it's safe to say that I've always loved that reveal.

The high-concept premise behind the film is a thing of beauty. A rich businessman with no sense of humor and little compassion for others is given an odd gift by his younger and wilder brother: the chance to play a game run by a mysterious company.  Why would he play this game? According to his brother, it's because it will make his life "fun".  But, in true Hollywood fashion, the game enters and a nightmare follows with it.

The resulting carnage follows said rich man - Nicholas Van Orton, as played by Michael Douglas - as he falls into a series of elaborate and dangerous scenarios that involve death, drugs, potential drowning, and even guns.  As the film moves throughout San Francisco there are more than enough moments that should make a first time viewer roll their eyes and scoff about how unrealistic the film is.  I'm certainly of the mindset that patience pays off with this film, but there will undoubtedly be some who won't make it to where the film is going or won't be on-board with the conclusions when they get there.  I of course won't say that those people are wrong - that would be rude - but I might secretly wonder if their life, too, could use a little fun.

It's not everyone's type of fun, because this is one macabre film.  The most masterful touch by director David Fincher might be the connection between Nicholas and his father, who committed suicide in front of his young son.  These events are recreated through dreamlike flashback sequences early in the film that are incredibly eerie and seem slightly out of place at first glance.  But, now that I've seen the film plenty of times, I can't understate how pertinent and marvelous these sequences are in this film.  They are the backbone of everything Fincher and company are trying to say here, and they still send chills down my spine 15 years later.

The most disturbing reality in the film is that this company - Consumer Recreation Services, whose initials start to haunt Nicholas throughout his game - seems to have taken complete control of this man's life.  We watch him lose his connections and resources throughout the film, and he loses power over his world by the hour. It's a chore to watch at times as the man's life continues to get worse and worse, but the lucky thing for us viewers is that Nicholas Van Orton isn't really a likeable character.  Douglas can do desperate with the best of 'em - this would play wonderfully next to his disgruntled vigilante film Falling Down - but the humorless rich dude act doesn't make us like him much early in the film.

Therein lies the tragic comedy aspect of our film. Fincher introduces us to a man we shouldn't like, then tortures him until we see him as a sympathetic character.  As the trials that Nicholas must face become more elaborate, the film reveals the fantastic allegory that is hidden under its dreary exterior.  I can't say too much about where the film goes with Nicholas' plight - this is one of those films that I get nervous talking about, because I think it's so wonderful that I'd never ever dream of spoiling it for anyone - but I do recommend that the viewer loosen their grip on reality and let the chaotic events that make up The Game run their course before they jump to any conclusions.

It is often lost in the shuffle when Fincher's early films are discussed - it doesn't have the grime of Seven, the attitude of Fight Club, or the "Wait, that girl grows up to be the Twilight girl?" of Panic Room - but The Game still strikes me as Fincher's most profound work.  It is a truly haunting film with what I consider to be one of the most perfect endings ever put on film. It takes some getting used to - I'm pretty sure us 16 year olds in that 1997 movie theater thought we were smarter than it when it first happened  to us - but it makes more and more sense every time I see this movie. I'm in on the joke now, and I'm glad that I've got a grin that's inspired by this meticulously plotted mind-bender.

(OK, there's one more thing I just have to say. It's about the ending. I suppose it could be construed as a SPOILER, but I'm giving no details.

The movie doesn't work if the ending goes the other way. I know there are people who believe otherwise, but I will defend this until my last breath.  It would make perfect sense for the film to end with the opposite ending, but that ending wouldn't make the film have any kind of relevance. I'm not just talking about relevance from a shock standpoint, I'm saying there would be no relevant reason for the film to exist.  There are those who say the on-screen ending is an "easy way out", but in my book the movie becomes about 97% less daring if it switches the ending.  The ending, as is, gives the movie its flavor.)

Midnight Movie of the Week #138 - Capricorn One

Capricorn One is one of those movies that proves exactly what made the 1970s such a perfect time for genre cinema.  I guess it's not even really a genre film in the strictest sense - more on that in a minute, but for now I'll just say that it's barely a science fiction tale - but it's plotted in that perfect way that allows for maximum lunacy while pretending to be perfectly serious about its ideas.  This is a high concept political thriller that almost belongs alongside stuff like The Parallax View and Three Days of the Condor, except for the fact that it almost belongs alongside flicks like Westworld and Soylent Green.  Heck, I was introduced to the flick on Monstervision, for cryin' out loud. And there's nary a monster to be found.

If you want to understand why Capricorn One lives in a perpetual land of genre grayness, just listen to this plot synopsis. A trio of astronauts - played by James "Amityville Beard" Brolin, Sam "TD Ameritrade" Waterston and OJ "Totally Innocent" Simpson - are set for the first manned mission to Mars.  Just before take off, they're whisked away by Hal "My Favorite Actor Possibly" Holbrook (and a jet, Holbrook can't fly like Superman in this) and told that NASA actually plans to fake the landing on Mars and that a nice big TV studio in the middle of a desert will double as Mars.  It's a good idea - except for the "good" part - until the three amigos of the stars realize that the story only works if they're dead and can't tell anyone about the interstellar hoax.

Oh, and Elliott Gould shows up, playing the same Elliot Gould he always is.  He's kind of like Max von Sydow in that you wish he could some how compile all of his characters into one big multi-talented persona that looks like something off of that TV show Dollhouse, except not Eliza Dushku hot. In the case of van Sydow, you realize that there's no way he could be a combination of Jesus, and Exorcist, Ming the Merciless, et al.  But in the case of Gould, I'm not sure I'd bat an eyelash.  If someone walked up to me and said "Hey The Mike, did you know Elliott Gould is a rich casino owning detective spy reporter?" I'd be like "Yeah, that makes sense." Did I have a point here? Oh, it's that Elliott Gould plays a reporter who wants to go all Woodward and Bernstein and uncover the hoax, which puts him in the mix as kind of the film's non astronaut hero.

So yeah, you kind of have to work past the idea that Americans are so dumb that they would believe some well lit screen and a bunch of sand on TV would pass for Mars (is that really so hard to do?) to get in to Capricorn One, but the film never wavers as it presents its goofy ideas.  I'm sure I've talked about this before when covering '70s flicks, but it bears repeating. The folks who made movies in this decade were SO GOOD at pulling us in and making us care about something that was utterly ridiculous. Ir's really amazing. I don't know how they did it. Were the people of the '70s that much more naive than those of us who sit around today complaining about all the details? Did they just have a better sense of humor than us? I'm always talking about suspension of disbelief (It's the absolute number one thing you MUST have to love movies, you guys!) but the people of the 1970s....man, they were living it.

Capricorn One runs a little over two hours long, but it feels like an epic adventure of grander proportions. There is Gould's All The President's Men-ish quest for the truth, there's the journey through the desert that our three fugitive astronauts must make (I don't want to spoil anything, so I'll just say that Brolin is a ManBeast), and there's the sneaky side of the plot that deals with politicians and bigwigs and Holbrook's fantastic NASA head who is a prototypical "I did it for the country!" big bad.  And just when you think they couldn't add anything else to the adventure (or another piece of star power to the cast), TV's Telly Savalas shows up as a cog in the final act that adds plenty of laughs and a dollop of charm to the proceedings. 

Director Peter Hyams - who would go on to make some genre hits like Outland and Relic (Relic is seriously underrated, you guys!) and End of Days (I'm saying it...this one's underrated too!) - seems to be one of the few directors in Hollywood history that is most willing to amp up the ridiculous when no one expects him to - and the result here is a film that moves at a cracking pace and never loses the viewer for a second.  The film is obviously designed to be something of a talking piece about political corruption and how much we trust the media, but Hyams seems to have his tongue in cheek the whole time too. This film has so much fun with its silly premise, and that's a big reason that it's still terribly entertaining today.

Capricorn One isn't the kind of flick I usually cover here - it's not horror, sci-fi, and there's next to no blood - but it's a perfect example of what popcorn thrillers can be when done right.  Somehow, a director managed to put together an A-List cast and make a film about a faked space mission. A film that includes a car speeding out of control through traffic (perhaps one of the most insanely "Wait, did that all just happen so quickly?" moments in film history), some rattlesnake eating, and one of the most bizarre final moments in the history of cinema. And despite how it sounds, it's SO INCREDIBLY GOOD.  Capricorn One spits in the face of logical Hollywood expectations and manages to become one of the most entertaining films I've ever seen....and it does so in style.