The Killer Elite (1975; Sam Peckinpah) is hardly
flawless, but Peckinpah’s much maligned anti-spy meta-thriller
is worth another look—especially if, like me, you’d seen it ages ago, didn’t
quite like it then—
and then recently wondered why you didn’t like it.
James Caan and Robert Duvall are introduced as a
couple of working stiffs doing dirty jobs for a CIA front. At the start of the film,
they’re helping a Soviet defector escape, but Duvall turns “traitor” (whatever
that means when the only loyalty these men have is to money), kills the
“package,” and shoots Caan in the knee and elbow, crippling him rather than
killing him because once they were friends.
After an arduous rehab, the brooding, vengeful Caan is
mobile again, with braces on his wounded joints, and has been training in
martial arts to balance his skills.
Oily CIA desk jockey Arthur Hill brings Caan out of
‘retirement’ to protect a controversial Asian politician on his way to a
conference, using the info that Duvall has been hired to assassinate the politico as
the bait to hook Caan into the assignment.
Of course Caan accepts, and Mission: Impossible-style assembles a black ops crew consisting of Burt
Young and Bo Hopkins as driver and shooter, respectively, and starts their
assignment.
But they don’t know that it’s a set-up: Hillis also working for the “other side,” and had hired Duvall for the hit in the
first place….
why is The Killer Elite now better with age?
First of all, the letterboxing helps: Peckinpah
always uses as much of the frame as possible and when his movies have a more
chaotic editing pattern, like this one, the widescreen is what gives the
audience some more room to breathe. Old pan-and-scan TV prints or VHS tapes of
the movie only helped confuse viewers more.
It also helps having seen the movie previously,
thus getting the absurdly complicated plot out of the way, so more attention
can be paid to the details, like character’s performances or the background
actions.
(Honestly, though, as goofy as it is, the plot of
The Killer Elite is not as complicated as some highly-praised Hong Kong actions
movies have been (John Woo, I’m looking at you!); and I think if Killer Elite
had been made in a non-English tongue, it would’ve been given higher regard
sooner.)
Like Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia before
it, The Killer Elite is a meta-movie: Peckinpah is the crippled hitman with his
team of loyal whackos doing one last job for a bunch of backstabbing beancounters.
Unlike the more personal ‘magical evil-ism’ of
Alfredo Garcia, The Killer Elite is a product of, and a commentary on the corporatization of America:
number crunching and Muzak with “extreme prejudice;” forms signed in blood and filled
out in triplicate; and loudmouth, phony bravado with real bullets.
Meanwhile, casual nudity, fruit-stand-smashing car chases,
slow-motion violence, martial arts fight scenes (sometimes with samurai swords!),
documentary-style surgery sequences, and the characters’ generally bad
attitudes help create a sordid quality about The Killer Elite that’s pleasantly
familiar to fans of 1970s action flicks.
I like to think of The Killer Elite as the
sleazy B-Movie flipside to The Parallax View: the ground-level view of the
grunts doing the dirty work. Late character actor Bill McKinney played the
“working stiff” in Parallax View, so imagine an entire movie about him—but done
semi-satirically:
These garbage-men are not playing at being James
Bond; they’re playing at being…Matt Helm.
Of course, this is completely reinforced with
the casting of perennial shlub, the awesome Burt Young. (If only Joe Spinell and/or
Timothy Carey had been in this movie, too!—Sigh…)
If you do watch The Killer Elite, whether for
the first time or again, check this out: Young’s “dumb slob” character is probably
the most competent and thoughtful of them all.
He questions the orders of their ‘corporate’
overlords, and he even questions his own deadly actions. Meanwhile, he’s a
great driver, he manages to sneak up on and kill rival assassins, he finds the
hidden bomb and he even beats up ninjas! That’s good.
The first hour is a genuinely well-made and
thoughtful film—especially James Caan’s early rehab scenes, but various bits of
silliness start showing up (like the scene with the dumb motorcycle cop and the
time-bomb), and it isn’t helped by Caan’s later overacting or snide comments.
Character actor heaven: In addition to Burt Young, the supporting cast
is great, with Bo Hopkins ruling (as usual) as a possibly psycho firearms
master, Mako providing the sage wisdom and chop-socky, and Gig Young looking drunker than ever and not giving a damn.
Additionally, Monte Hellman, director of
Two-Lane Blacktop, was one of the editors of The Killer Elite—which is just
plain cool.
My current interest in Peckinpah’s film was
spiked by the recently released but unseen-by-me Killer Elite (nowadays
prepositions seem verboten in titles, it seems), starring Jason Statham, Robert
De Niro and Clive Owen. By all accounts, this new film seems to have used the
title of the 1975 film and its theme of assassins, but nothing else. Anybody
seen it?
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