Review #1,261: 'Sorcerer' (1977)

Due to its catastrophic failure at the box-office and underwhelming reception from critics, William Friedkin's Sorcerer will always find itself linked to the that floppiest of flops, Heaven's Gate. Yet while Michael Cimino's over-ambition caused costs to skyrocket (taking down iconic studio United Artists in the process) and the thought of a bum-numbing, slow-burn western proving rather unappealing to audiences, Sorcerer's failure is often chalked down to the timing of its release - alongside Star Wars, which, of course, rapidly became a pop culture phenomenon and a box-office smash. On paper, a remake of French classic The Wages of Fear seems like a terrible idea, but Friedkin's gruelling and visceral thriller has quite rightly received a critical re-evaluation of late, with many recognising it as The Exorcist director's greatest achievement.

Other than the basic set-up, Sorcerer shares little in common with Henri-Georges Clouzot's classic. It spends a lot of time establishing the four main characters and the sins that will eventually bring them together. In Mexico, Nilo (Francisco Rabal) casually assassinates a man using a gun with a silencer; in Israel, Kassem (Amidou), an Arab terrorist disguised as a Jew, causes a deadly explosion in Jerusalem; in France, businessman Victor (Bruno Cremer) is rumbled for fraud and given 24 hours to pay back an unrealistic amount of money otherwise he'll be turned into the authorities; and in the U.S., Irish gangster Jackie (Roy Scheider) sees a robbery go tits-up and a price placed on his head by a powerful mob boss. Their destiny lies in Porvenir, a remote village in Latin America. Following an oil well explosion, a lucrative job becomes available for four lucky men. Only the work entails transporting damaged dynamite containing unstable nitroglycerin across 200 miles of jungle, mud roads, crazy locals, and a broken down rope-bridge.

It takes a while for the unsavoury foursome to shift into gear, but when the engines start rumbling, backed by Tangerine Dream's hypnotic score, Friedkin takes us on a punishing journey into the heart of darkness. Like Herzog's Aguirre, The Wrath of God and Klimov's Come and See, Sorcerer makes the experience seem physically draining. The troubled shoot is etched on the character's faces; sun-scorched, sleep-deprived and eyes bulging with madness, you can really feel their torment. The scene that adorns the poster, in which the two bulky trucks must navigate across a rotten and flimsy rope-bridge in hammering rain, is truly one of the most nail-biting set-pieces ever made. It's a miracle they even managed to film such a complicated and dangerous-looking sequence, and this adds a real physicality to the action. There are pacing issues as the film over-milks its introductions, but the international cast are a pleasure to watch during these early vignettes. The Exorcist will always remain at the very top of the pile, but Sorcerer is certainly Friedkin's most misunderstood work, and one that deserves recognition as one of the last great movies from the New Hollywood era.


Directed by: William Friedkin
Starring: Roy Scheider, Bruno Cremer, Francisco Rabal, Amidou, Ramon Bieri
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,259: 'Cohen & Tate' (1988)

With a momentary glance at the poster, Cohen & Tate appears to be somewhere in the realm of those buddy cop thrillers that proved so popular in the 1980s, with tough-guy poses and its two central characters named right there in the title accompanied by an ampersand. At least that's the impression I got. In fact, Eric Red's directorial debut is anything but. Part road movie and part tense thriller - and occasionally struggling when switching between the two - Cohen & Tate is a menacing, violent and often plain mental neo-noir, with a chilling performance by Roy Scheider at its centre. Often veering into territory marked by the Coen Brothers, Red, who also wrote the script, demands that you spend 90 minutes with two bickering, cold-blooded killers as the life of a child hangs in the balance. And it proves to be a pretty riveting experience, even though it requires you to suspend your disbelief for the duration.

We open at a farm house, where a seemingly all-American family are in hiding for unexplained reasons. FBI agents surround the house, but that doesn't stop hit-men Cohen (Scheider) and Tate (Adam Baldwin) from breaking in and murdering everyone in sight except the 9 year-old son, Travis (Harley Cross). Instead, they whisk him away in their car to deliver him to their bosses. What they have in store for him is unknown, as the eponymous anti-heroes are as much in the dark as we are. Yet they have made a terrible blunder: On the radio they learn that the father has survived and has already given descriptions of the killers to the police. The hot-headed Tate wants to ice the child right there and then, but the wiser, more level-headed Cohen insists on finishing the job as planned. Sensing distrust between the two men, Travis takes the opportunity to turn them against each other and plan his escape.

The film plays out from there as a series of vignettes, usually involving the increasingly volatile Tate going off the rails and threatening to kill young Travis. These screaming outbursts are repeated so often that it becomes unintentionally comical, similar in many ways to Bill Paxton's over-the-top character in Near Dark, which was also written by Red. Scheider, however, subtly oozes menace. He may be the more balanced of the two, but it's easy to believe that he's capable of executing a child. The mean-spirited tone works in favour of the film, which ultimately delivers its thrills most effectively when things turn really nasty. The majority of the action takes place in the claustrophobic confines of the car, and the film's main strength is the sharp and often amusing dialogue between the titular bad men. It's ridiculous and messy, but it's damn good fun, any film in which a character eats a box of matches to prove how crazy they are is a winner in my book.


Directed by: Eric Red
Starring: Roy Scheider, Adam Baldwin, Harley Cross, Cooper Huckabee
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #203: 'All That Jazz' (1979)

Bob Fosse was a dance choreographer, dancer, actor, director.... He directs here a fragmented, fantastical portrait of his life. The main focus is on a stage piece that Fosse is directing/choreographing, and this is littered with flash backs, and he seems to be guided by the ethereal Angelique (Jessica Lange), who is either simply an angel (as implied by her name), or some kind of guardian, who makes objective comments for his actions and desires. Fosse's alter-ego is Joe Gideon (Roy Scheider), who is a hard drinking, chain smoking "artist", moving towards collapse.

As we are privy to various flashes of his past, his womanising, and the consequences of these actions, we see him in the present, falling apart, his health deteriorating. Eventually he ends up in hospital, his loved ones around him, telling him essentially that they told him so. These sequences are played out in absolute fantasy. Song and dance numbers are played out by the people in his life in front of his hospital bed.

In a brilliant scene whilst Joe is in hospital sees a board of producers sitting around a table discussing the finances of the show whilst Gideon is under the knife getting open heart surgery. What is great about the scene is the obvious dichotomy of creation and money. The juxtaposition of the meeting and the surgery, seem to imply that the discussions involved money seem to literally rip out the heart and soul of creativity. The film also has a visual chapter-head for each sequence involving a montage of Gideons morning ritual of Dexedrine, aspirin, eye drops, followed by his catch phrase, "Show Time", as he looks into the mirror.

I'm not really much of a musical fan, but the fact that this focuses on an artist at breaking point, it's very 1970's downbeat attitude, and it's use of musical pieces placed firmly within fantasy, and dream context, makes it an endearing and exciting film. The closing number is particularly excellent, with its disco-like rendition (eulogy if you like) of The Everly Brothers' 'Bye Bye Love'. A fitting end to a seemingly incredible life, and a quite brilliant film. Bob Fosse did die shortly after the release of the film.


Directed by: Bob Fosse
Starring: Roy Scheider, Jessica Lange, Leland Palmer
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy