Ice Station Zebra

Alistair MacLean’s 1963 novel ICE STATION ZEBRA, set in the Arctic, was the inspiration for this big-budget MGM Cold War thriller, though scripter Douglas Heyes (writer of many excellent MAVERICK and TWILIGHT ZONE episodes) deviated often from it.

Known as Howard Hughes’ favorite movie, ICE STATION ZEBRA has garnered quite a following in the decades since its release, despite its stolid pacing and old-fashioned production values. It earned Academy Award nominations for its special effects and cinematography, and its legend stretches to TV’s BREAKING BAD, which named a fictional business after the film.

It’s hard to know who to trust in this paranoia-fueled espionage thriller. Except Rock Hudson, of course. You could always count on Rock Hudson. The Rock plays Captain Farraday, the commander of a U.S. Navy nuclear submarine who is assigned to investigate a tragedy at a British weather station. Though as Admiral Garvey (Lloyd Nolan) tells Farraday, rescuing survivors is not the reason for his mission — only the excuse.

The only man aboard the sub who does know the true mission is Jones (THE PRISONER star Patrick McGoohan), an eccentric British agent whose ally is a Soviet defector, Boris Vaslov (Ernest Borgnine). Also on board: Captain Anders (Jim Brown), a martinet who assumes command of Lieutenant Walker’s (Tony Bill) Marines. What are Marines doing aboard a Naval submarine on a rescue mission to a civilian science station? Farraday doesn’t know, and part of the film’s mystery is picking apart everyone’s motives and orders.

It’s usually satisfying to watch professionals perform a job well, and ICE STATION ZEBRA ticks off all the right boxes as it chugs turgidly along. The cast is tough enough, and the heroics are enhanced by Michel Legrand’s score. Heyes’ screenplay, however, based on a screen story by Harry Julian Fink (DIRTY HARRY), bears too little story to sustain the film’s epic length (which also includes an overture and an intermission), and you may be checking your watch during the eighty minutes that it takes director John Sturges (THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN) just to get to Ice Station Zebra.

The Rocketeer

Released by Disney two decades before superheroes were battling on big screens all over the world to boffo box office, this joyous adaptation of writer/artist Dave Stevens’ period piece stands as one of the best comic book movies ever made and most likely the most fun. Despite top-flight visual effects, an appealing script, likable stars, and plenty of breathtaking derring-do in the sky and on the ground, THE ROCKETEER was a major flop, opening in fourth place (behind vehicles for Kevin Costner, Billy Crystal, and Julia Roberts) and barely grossing its production budget.

Why didn’t audiences flock to THE ROCKETEER? A lack of movie stars, perhaps, though topliners Bill Campbell and Jennifer Connelly share terrific romantic chemistry and main heavy Timothy Dalton was just coming off two James Bond films. Maybe it was the 1930s setting, which didn’t hurt Indiana Jones any, but THE PHANTOM and THE SHADOW later in the ‘90s didn’t do business either. I guess at this point it doesn’t matter why THE ROCKETEER didn’t strike a chord with 1991 audiences, except the movie’s failure meant we didn’t get to see further adventures of Cliff Secord and his magnificent rocket pack. And that’s a damn shame.

Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo, who did a wonderful job bringing DC Comics’ The Flash to the small screen, wrote the screenplay for THE ROCKETEER, graduating to Disney from the low-budget tongue-in-cheek adventures they made for Charles Band’s Empire Pictures, such as ZONE TROOPERS and the excellent TRANCERS. Stevens, of course, had his own inspirations for the Rocketeer, most notably the Commando Cody character seen in Republic serials like KING OF THE ROCKETMEN.

Stevens’ love for old movies, in addition to that of DeMeo, Bilson, and director Joe Johnston (CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER), is captured not just in the film’s story and setting, but also its characters. Dalton, dashingly portraying a Nazi spy named Neville Sinclair, captures more than a pinch of Errol Flynn, whereas the object of Sinclair’s affections, Connelly’s sweet and innocent Jenny Blake, is an unabashed tribute to pinup queen Betty Page.

Cliff Secord (Campbell), a hotshot young stunt pilot, and his mechanic Peevy (Alan Arkin, who is delightful) discover a rocket pack in their hangar. Adding a leather jacket and a bullet-shaped helmet to the ensemble, Cliff first dons the jets to rescue a pilot (Eddie Jones) in trouble, which creates headlines about a mysterious flying man. Soon, Cliff and Peevy become hunted by the FBI, gangsters (led by Paul Sorvino), and Sinclair, who kidnaps Jenny to exchange for the one-of-a-kind rocket pack, which, by the way, was invented by Howard Hughes (Terry O’Quinn)!

State-of-the-art visual effects by Industrial LIght and Magic combine with Johnston’s old-style direction and a star-making performance by the luminous Connelly, not to mention a zeppelin, for a fun tale of adventure and good-hearted derring-do. Bilson and DeMeo give the story some humor to leaven the suspense, but not of the campy or cheap slapstick kind.

Licence To Kill

Until 2006’s “reimagining” of the 007 franchise in CASINO ROYALE, LICENCE TO KILL (note the British spelling) was widely considered the most brutal and violent film of the series. The first PG-13 Bond movie offers a change-of-pace plot by Richard Maibaum and Michael G. Wilson that finds 007 (Timothy Dalton in his second and final Bond performance) resigning under protest from the British Secret Service and plotting revenge against Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi), the South American druglord who fed Bond’s DEA pal Felix Leiter (David Hedison, reprising his role from 1973’s LIVE AND LET DIE) to the sharks. Literally.

Some have referred to LICENCE TO KILL as a "Joel Silver Bond movie," and that's a good description, right down to the trendy choice of villain (Central American drug dealer), supporting cast of familiar American character actors (Don Stroud, Anthony Zerbe, Frank McRae, Benicio Del Toro), and Michael Kamen as composer. It mostly eschews the elaborate gadgetry for which the Bond movies are well known, and although it’s a first-rate action movie, it doesn’t feel much like a James Bond adventure, despite Dalton’s tough, underrated performance.

John Glen, directing his fifth consecutive and final Bond movie, handles the special effects and stunts with aplomb — the tanker truck chase that ends the film is one of the Bond series’ finest action pieces. As mentioned above, LICENCE TO KILL doesn’t feel like a James Bond movie, but it’s one heck of an action/adventure film. While Davi and the actors playing his henchmen are strong, the Bond Girls are weak. Talisa Soto (VAMPIRELLA) is quite wooden in her role of Sanchez’s girlfriend Lupe, and Carey Lowell, later a regular on LAW & ORDER, is not believable as a tough-talking CIA agent, though her short hairdo makes her a visual standout among Bond girls.

Robert Brown plays M for the last time. Same for Caroline Bliss as Moneypenny, though Eon and MGM kept Desmond Llewelyn’s Q, who has his most sizable part in LICENCE TO KILL, in subsequent pictures. Speaking of, LICENCE TO KILL was not a box office smash, and various creative, financial, and legal bugaboos prevented the next Bond film from being produced until 1994. Though Dalton’s 007 films were not highly regarded by fans at the time, his portrayal is closer to that of the popular Daniel Craig than any other Bond actor.

The Magnificent Seven (1960)

One of the great American westerns, one chosen for preservation by the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry, and just a crackling good yarn with a strong cast, exciting action sequences, and an iconic Oscar-nominated score by Elmer Bernstein (TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD). Much of THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN’s lasting success is due to its cast, many of whom became international movie stars, but at the time were familiar, solid character actors in television and movies. Steve McQueen was still on WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE when THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN came out and was just two years removed from THE BLOB. Likewise, Charles Bronson, James Coburn, and Robert Vaughn were very busy in episodic television, though Vaughn had been nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for THE YOUNG PHILADELPHIANS a year earlier.

Of course, Yul Brynner was a major movie star with THE KING AND I, THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, SOLOMON AND SHEBA, and many other Hollywood productions on his resume, though THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN was his first western. Bald, Russian, and not a tall man, Brynner would seem an unusual cowboy, but he carries the picture on both shoulders and later sent up his MAGNIFICENT SEVEN role as a robot gunslinger in WESTWORLD. Though Brynner and McQueen shared an uneasy alliance on the set, each threatening to upstage the other, their rivalry translated into a tight chemistry that serves the picture well, particularly in a standout suspense scene in which their characters agree to transport an Indian corpse to a cemetery against the wishes of bigoted townspeople.

The screenplay by CAT BALLOU’s Walter Newman and THE DONNA REED SHOW creator William Roberts is, of course, a remake of Akira Kurosawa’s SEVEN SAMURAI. A tiny Mexican village is terrorized by bandits led by the colorful Calvera (the not exactly perfectly cast Eli Wallach), who threatens to return. Unable to defend themselves, the town recruits gunfighter Brynner to help. Brynner, in return, recruits six other gunmen — McQueen, Bronson, Coburn, Vaughn, Brad Dexter (HOUSE OF BAMBOO), and young Horst Buchholz (ONE, TWO, THREE) — to fight Calvera’s army against depressing odds.

At 128 minutes, THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN allows time for each actor to breathe and expand their characters. Memorable are Bronson’s bonding with the Mexican children, as well as his amusing recruitment while chopping wood, Vaughn’s re-occurring PTSD, and Coburn’s withering knife fight against heavy Bob Wilke, in which you learn everything you need to know about Coburn’s character, even though the actor doesn’t utter a word.

Director John Sturges (BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK) handled the expensive production with a sprawling, macho cast and complicated action scenes so well that executive producer Walter Mirisch and United Artists asked him to make THE GREAT ESCAPE for them three years later (McQueen, Bronson, and Coburn were in that one too). Three sequels followed (Brynner returned for the first one, RETURN OF THE SEVEN), as well as a CBS television series and an MGM remake starring Denzel Washington (GLORY).

The Living Daylights

Shakespearean actor Timothy Dalton (WUTHERING HEIGHTS) replaced Roger Moore as James Bond in this sprawling adventure filmed in Austria, Morocco, Gibraltar, Italy, England, and the United States. He’s tough, suave, rugged — a very good James Bond, if a little too serious. In addition to a makeover, 007 received a change in his promiscuous lifestyle, sleeping with only one woman in the first post-AIDS James Bond movie.

Bond veterans Richard Maibaum and Michael G. Wilson, along with John Glen, directing his fourth consecutive Bond flick, engineer THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS like true craftsmen. Bond is assigned to rescue Russian defector Koskov (Jeroen Krabbe), and uncovers a Soviet plot to buy high-tech weapons from American arms dealer Brad Whitaker (Joe Don Baker, who returned to the Bond fold as a good guy in two Pierce Brosnan movies).

Robert Brown, who played M four times in the interim between Bernard Lee and Judi Dench, is back, as well as Desmond Llewelyn’s Q, Geoffrey Keen’s Ministry of Defence, and Walter Gotell’s General Gogol. The age-appropriate Caroline Bliss replaced Lois Maxwell as Moneypenny, and John Terry (FULL METAL JACKET) is a dull Felix Leiter.

While the plot is something of a snoozer and Baker (WALKING TALL) is a weak villain — one never believes he’s clever or powerful enough to beat Bond — THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS offers two of the Bond series’ most entertaining action setpieces. Bond and a beautiful cellist (the vapid Maryam d’Abo) elude Russian soldiers in a tricked-out Aston Martin that becomes an outrigger (!) and then escape Czechoslovakia into Austria by sliding down a snowy mountain atop a cello case. Later, Bond fights a henchman while grasping netting dangling from the rear of a cargo plane in a breathtaking stunt sequence.

A vast improvement over Moore’s last two Bonds, thanks in part to a vibrant, younger star more convincing in action scenes, THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS opened at #1 at the U.S. box office, as Bond films tend to. It was not a long-term financial success, however, nor was Dalton’s next Bond film, LICENSE TO KILL. John Barry delivered his last 007 score, which effectively mixes orchestral and electronic music, and collaborated uncomfortably with a-ha on the mediocre title song.

For Your Eyes Only

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY is James Bond getting back to basics after the outlandish outer space antics of MOONRAKER. It’s as close to Fleming that the series had gotten since FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE nearly twenty years earlier. Producer Albert R. Broccoli brought back Bond veteran Richard Maibaum to craft the screenplay with executive producer Michael G. Wilson (Broccoli’s stepson) and invited long-time Bond editor John Glen to direct for the first time. As an homage to ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY opens with 007 (Roger Moore for the fifth time) visiting his late wife Tracy’s grave.

Speaking of Moore, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY is his best performance as James Bond. He actually gets his hair mussed and is allowed a few moments of real emotion, as does French actress Carole Bouquet (NEW YORK STORIES) as the daughter of a marine biologist out to avenge the murder of her parents. Maibaum and Wilson cut way down on the gadgets and special effects, instead crafting a serious thriller with a hard-edged Bond who isn’t shy about using his license to kill.

The McGuffin is something called ATAC — Automatic Targeting Attack Communicator — basically a triggering device for nuclear submarines. It is lost in the Ionian Sea, and Bond is assigned to retrieve it before the Soviets, represented by smuggler Kristatos (Julian Glover), do. The parents of Melina Havelock (Bouquet) are murdered by a Cuban assassin who is ultimately discovered to be working for Kristatos, which is how she becomes involved in Bond’s mission.

Topol (FIDDLER ON THE ROOF) comes aboard FOR YOUR EYES ONLY as Kristatos’ former associate, now working with James Bond, and Lynn-Holly Johnson (ICE CASTLES) is miscast as an oversexed young figure skater with the hots for 007. Thankfully, Bond abstains. Sheena Easton also appears as the first Bond theme song performer to also appear in Maurice Binder’s opening title sequence. The Bill Conti/Michael Leeson composition was nominated for an Oscar and holds up better than Conti’s desperately ‘80s score. The music is more appropriate for HARDCASTLE & MCCORMICK than a hard-bitten Cold War spy thriller.

With Glen’s keen eye for action and sense of pacing behind the camera, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY really moves. The mountain climbing climax is terrific, and a central ski chase, in which Bond is pursued down a mountain by two motorcyclists, is one of the most exciting setpieces in any Bond movie. Stunts are first-rate down the line, and Alan Hume’s (SUPERGIRL) camerawork captures the most gorgeous aspects of Greece, Italy, and the Bahamas. Sadly, M doesn’t appear in the picture, because actor Bernard Lee died during production, though Lois Maxwell and Desmond Llewelyn are here as Moneypenny and Q, respectively. Glen went on to direct the next four Bond films, including both of Timothy Dalton’s.

Moonraker

After the spectacular grosses earned by the epic THE SPY WHO LOVED ME, not to mention the success of STAR WARS and CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND, producer Albert R. Broccoli couldn’t resist the urge to make James Bond even bigger. And that meant taking 007 to outer space.

With more puerile humor than the previous Roger Moore Bond films combined, MOONRAKER is a spectacularly silly movie that often crosses the line to embarrassing. Still, while not making excuses for it, MOONRAKER does deliver thrills through its outrageous gadgets, expertly staged stunts, lovely John Barry score, and colorful finale involving Bond and CIA agent Holly Goodhead (Lois Chiles) leaping around a space station firing deadly laser pistols at henchmen in jumpsuits. The visual effects were nominated for an Oscar, but lost to ALIEN in a tough field.

The villain is Hugo Drax (Michael Lonsdale), whose master plan is nothing less than the complete destruction of human life on Earth. He plans to use nerve gas to wipe out humanity, then repopulate years later with a master race of genetically engineered people raised about his space station. Not a bad movie plot, but in the hands of screenwriter Christopher Wood, the story is lost among the senseless parodies (of CE3K and THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN), childish humor (oh, heavens, the pigeon with the double take), and implausible situations. Jaws, the steel-toothed assassin played with menace in THE SPY WHO LOVED ME by Richard Kiel (THE HUMANOID), has regressed to a Chuck Jones character in MOONRAKER, surviving a two-mile fall from an airplane with no parachute and no injuries.

Wood, who co-wrote THE SPY WHO LOVED ME with Richard Maibaum, seems to have needed a polished collaborator to keep his story grounded in something resembling the real world. All Bond films are fantasies, of course, but MOONRAKER is the first one for which disbelief cannot be suspended. The film does have its stronger moments, however. The murder of Drax’s secretary, Corinne (Corinne Clery), by Dobermans is MOONRAKER’s most sobering scene and indicates director Lewis Gilbert (making his third Bond movie after YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE and THE SPY WHO LOVED ME) could have made a more grounded film if Wood and (presumably) Broccoli had wanted one. Likewise, Bond’s fight with a samurai (Toshiro Suga) is played straight with a sense of danger.

Though MOONRAKER was a massive hit — nearly forty years later, it was still the fifth most successful Bond film at the box office, when adjusted for inflation — the consensus was that sending James Bond into orbit was a bridge too far. Roger Moore returned for FOR YOUR EYES ONLY, but Wood and Gilbert did not with Broccoli opting for a grittier, more realistic approach.

The Spy Who Loved Me

The best James Bond adventure of the 1970s is also the best of Roger Moore’s Bond films and one of the best ever made. THE SPY WHO LOVED ME features breathtaking Oscar-nominated sets designed by Ken Adam (Pinewood Studios had to build a huge new stage — christened the 007 Stage — to accommodate them), location shooting in nine (!) different countries, a well-crafted screenplay by series veteran Richard Maibaum (GOLDFINGER) and newcomer Christopher Wood (MOONRAKER), and the introduction of one of the series’ greatest villains: the seven-foot steel-toothed assassin Jaws (Richard Kiel), who survives falls, crushings, electrocution, and shark attacks in indestructible fashion.

Lewis Gilbert, who directed the stunning finale of YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE a decade earlier, was the perfect craftsman to juggle THE SPY WHO LOVED ME’s epic production, which opens with an exciting ski chase culminating in stuntman Rick Sylvester’s impressive jump off Mount Asgard and witty Union Jack parachute. From there, 007 (Moore for the third time) gets down to business, teaming up with Russian spy Anya Amasova (CAVEMAN’s Barbara Bach) to prevent megalomaniacal shipping magnate Karl Stromberg (Curt Jurgens) from conquering the world with stolen nuclear missiles and ruling from his ocean stronghold.

While Bond has the sultry KGB agent Amasova on his side, Stromberg stacks the deck with an army of colorfully jumpsuited minions, not to mention Jaws; the hulking Sandor (Milton Reid), reminiscent of GOLDFINGER’s Oddjob; and the sexy chopper-flying assassin Naomi, portrayed by British cult actress Caroline Munro (STARCRASH). He also has a shark tank that comes in handy when disciplining disloyal employees.

From a technical standpoint, THE SPY WHO LOVED ME is top-notch down the line. Derek Meddings’ miniatures are seamlessly blended with live-action photography to create the film’s authentic comic-book universe. The Maibaum/Wood screenplay isn’t afraid to inject real drama into the adventure, giving Moore and Bach juicy moments to play. Bond visibly flinches at Amasova’s mention of his late wife Tracy (from ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE) and doesn’t hesitate to kill a helpless enemy in cold blood — moments Moore handles with great assurance.

While the climactic assault on Stromberg’s wonderfully designed lair is the film’s best setpiece, mention must be made of the Italian car chase, which pits Bond’s tricked-out Lotus Esprit against a car, a motorcycle, and Naomi’s helicopter — a chase that continues underwater after the car transforms into a submarine. The only major misstep is Marvin Hamlisch’s disco-influenced score, which was nominated for an Academy Award (as was the theme song performed by Carly Simon), but pales compared to the Bond music composed by John Barry and David Arnold. Producer Albert R. Broccoli planned to produce FOR YOUR EYES ONLY next, but the success of STAR WARS induced him to make MOONRAKER, set in outer space, instead.

No Way To Treat A Lady

Boy oh boy, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rod Steiger (THE PAWNBROKER), the ultimate ham, paid Paramount to play the master-of-disguise serial killer in this adaptation of William Goldman’s novel. Eyes a-buggin’, lips a-smackin’, accents a-waverin’, ol’ Rod propels NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY with a wild tour de force that straddles the line between genius and insanity.

Filmed in New York City by director Jack Smight (HARPER) and director of photography Jack Priestley (who brilliantly lensed the Big Apple for the NAKED CITY television series), the adaptation by John Gay (SEPARATE TABLES) differs wildly from Goldman’s vision, but remains a great deal of fun. Most of the fun, however, drips from the performances by Steiger and George Segal (THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT) as two mother-dominated figures on opposite sides of the coin.

Segal is dead right as Morris Brummel, a nebbishy cop investigating a series of murders in which woman are strangled and left with lipstick on their foreheads. The killer, revealed as Steiger’s Christopher Gill, celebrates murder by calling Brummel on the telephone, which upsets the detective’s mother (Overbearing Jewish Mother Supreme Eileen Heckart) and interferes with his budding relationship with lovely Lee Remick (TELEFON) as the beguiling witness Kate Palmer.

As much a dark comedy as crime meller, NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY gets good mileage from its cast, including supporting players victim (Martine Bartlett, Doris Roberts) and non-victim (David Doyle, Val Bisoglio, Michael Dunn as a midget who confesses to the murders). Director Smight, whose verve for the theatrical pales next to that of Steiger, Segal, and Gay, doesn’t totally connect with the material. In particular, a scene in which both Steiger and his victim (Kim August) are, unbeknownst to each other, in drag should play with more wit than it does. There’s unintentional humor in the obvious rug the actor Steiger wears when his character is not in disguise, even though his character seems like the kind of guy who would wear a bad toupee.

The Man With The Golden Gun

Quite a letdown after Roger Moore’s 007 debut in LIVE AND LET DIE, the ninth in the James Bond series stands as the second worst (just ahead of DIE ANOTHER DAY). One of THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN’s rare bright spots is Hammer horror star Christopher Lee, his cousin Ian Fleming’s choice to play Dr. No (the part went to Joseph Wiseman). Lee co-stars as Scaramanga, a tri-nippled assassin who makes a million bucks per hit and wants to control the solar energy market with a high-tech device on his private island.

Like LIVE AND LET DIE, THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN was directed by Guy Hamilton and written by Tom Mankiewicz, who shares credit with Bond veteran Richard Maibaum (GOLDFINGER). It looks cheap — unusual for a James Bond movie — the sets are uninviting, and most of the performances are abysmal. Sadly, what should have been the film’s most outstanding setpiece — Bond spinning an AMC Hornet lengthwise in midair — is ruined by a tasteless sound effect of a slide whistle — another indication nobody was taking this film seriously enough.

Bond (Roger Moore) opens the film minding his own business until Scaramanga’s calling card — a golden bullet — arrives at MI6 headquarters with “007” carved into it. Since nobody knows what Scaramanga looks like, Bond has his work cut out for him, but he manages to track the killer as far as Andrea Anders (Maud Adams), Scaramanga’s moll. That lead doesn’t pan out, and neither does Bond’s infiltration of the estate of Thai mobster Hai Fat (Richard Loo from all those 1940s WWII movies). At least it leads to Bond fighting a pair of sumo wrestlers (a fine idea) and then an entire karate school in an action scene inspired by the popular martial arts movies then glutting drive-ins.

In addition to Adams (later in OCTOPUSSY as a different character), Bond dallies with Britt Ekland (THE WICKER MAN) as Mary Goodnight, possibly MI6’s most inept agent. Somehow more embarrassing are FANTASY ISLAND star Herve Villechaize as a dwarf henchman ignominiously trapped in a suitcase and Clifton James, returning from LIVE AND LET DIE, as bigoted Louisiana sheriff J.W. Pepper, who is inexplicably shopping for an AMC automobile on his Bangkok vacation.

THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN was a major box office disappointment, grossing almost 40% less worldwide than LIVE AND LET DIE. This may have spurred producer Cubby Broccoli to up his game with the next feature, giving THE SPY WHO LOVED ME higher stakes, more scope, less comedy, and double the budget.

Live And Let Die

Roger Moore’s first turn as James Bond also marks the beginning of the series’ aping of current cinema trends, which continued through the Daniel Craig era’s copying of the Bourne movies. LIVE AND LET DIE wears its blaxploitation influence on its sleeve, right down to the casting of Yaphet Kotto, who went on to co-star in FRIDAY FOSTER and TRUCK TURNER, as its villain. Strictly in terms of international box office dollars, LIVE AND LET DIE became the most successful 007 film produced up to that time, so there was no doubt James Bond would return in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN.

Directed by GOLDFINGER’s Guy Hamilton, the eighth 007 picture contains terrific action sequences, including a double-decker bus passing under a short bridge, Bond’s escape from a crocodile swamp, and a spectacular boat chase in which a speedboat jumps 110 feet over a road. It also boasts an Oscar-nominated theme song by Paul McCartney and Wings (which lost to the treacly title song from THE WAY WE WERE) and the gorgeous Jane Seymour (DR. QUINN, MEDICINE WOMAN), then 21 years old, as Solitaire, a psychic who retains her powers only as long as she remains a virgin — a status Bond quickly remedies.

The plot by Tom Mankiewicz (DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER) sends Bond to Harlem to investigate the murders of three MI6 agents. He meets Solitaire, the moll of black druglord Mr. Big (a disguised Kotto), as well as his CIA contact, Rosie Carver (BLACK BELT JONES’ Gloria Hendry), and the vicious Dr. Kananga (Kotto), the dictator of a Caribbean island who also manages a multimillion-dollar heroin operation from there. Bond follows the bouncing ball to the Caribbean, Louisiana, and back to Kananga’s island for the climax.

David Hedison (VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA) plays the reliable CIA agent Felix Leiter (he would reprise the role in LICENSE TO KILL), and Clifton James (LONE STAR) regrettably plays the ridiculously stereotyped Southern sheriff J.W. Pepper (why he returned in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN is beyond reasoning). Especially of note are Julius Harris (BLACK CAESAR) as hook-handed Tee Hee, Earl Jolly Brown (BLACK BELT JONES) as quiet Whisper, and choreographer Geoffrey Holder (ANNIE) as Baron Samedi, all members of the Bond Villains’ Henchmen Hall of Fame.

Man On A Swing

I like the matter-of-fact approach that director Frank Perry (MOMMIE DEAREST) takes with police chief Lee Tucker’s (Cliff Robertson) murder investigation of a young woman in 1974's MAN ON A SWING.

Perry filmed MAN ON A SWING in an actual small New England city on what appear to be practical sets (the police station is in a dingy basement). He uses long lenses to show his actors in realistic landscapes crowded with extras to emphasize the grounded environment in which the mystery is set.

It also helps the audience put Franklin Wells (Joel Grey) into the proper perspective. Tucker doesn’t investigate many murders, and this one is tricky. Margaret Dawson (Dianne Hull) vanished after buying groceries at a busy shopping center. A day later, she turned up in the center’s parking lot on the floor of her Volkswagen. She had been strangled, but not raped, with a single drop of blood on her bosom.

After encountering a few dead ends, including Maggie’s former boyfriend played by future Buck Rogers Gil Gerard, Tucker receives a phone call from Wells, who claims to be clairvoyant. Wells knows things about the murder that nobody else could have, such as the prescription sunglasses that Tucker found in her purse. He’s also a strange guy who falls into trances (or so he says), fidgets, bounces around the room, and occasionally displays a sharp temper.

Maybe he’s the killer.

David Zelag Goodman (STRAW DOGS) based his screenplay on an actual 1968 case, which was chronicled in THE GIRL ON THE VOLKSWAGEN FLOOR by William Clark, the Ohio journalist who covered it. Barbara Ann Butler’s real-life murder was never officially solved. That conclusion just wouldn’t do for a Paramount drama, so Perry gives us a killer. He also knows how to ratchet up the suspense when he needs to, and MAN ON A SWING is damn creepy in spots.

While Grey (CABARET) has the showier part, to say the least, it’s Robertson (CHARLY) who has the more important job of making us believe that Wells could possibly be psychic. His Lee Tucker is patient, calm, tolerant, but not naive.

Star Trek Beyond

The good news about STAR TREK BEYOND is that it’s as good as this series of STAR TREK adventures produced by J.J. Abrams (STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS) is going to get. The bad news is that it’s as good as this series is going to get.

Light on human drama, literary allusions, and social and political commentary — aspects of the 1960s television series that made it popular enough for Paramount to continue making STAR TREK films fifty years later — STAR TREK BEYOND is not STAR TREK exactly. However, it is a moderately entertaining action/adventure film that, to its credit, retains the humanism and progressive ideals introduced to television audiences by Gene Roddenberry in 1966.

Aside from Chris Pine (JACK RYAN: SHADOW RECRUIT), whose screen intensity matches those of his blue eyes in the iconic role of Captain James T. Kirk (originally played by William Shatner, natch), the new U.S.S. Enterprise cast assembled by Abrams for 2009’s STAR TREK (the execrable STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS followed in 2013) deliver impressions, rather than full performances. They can hardly be blamed, as the screenplay by Simon Pegg (who plays chief engineer Scotty) and Doug Jung (TV’s DARK BLUE) doesn’t give them much to play outside of standard action beats.

Zachary Quinto (TV’s HEROES) as emotionless (sometimes) Mr. Spock and Karl Urban (DREDD) as crusty Dr. McCoy do a nice job of channeling Leonard Nimoy and DeForest Kelley, though making two films together, rather than 79 episodes of television, prevents them from sharing the sharp chemistry the script wishes to convey. Same goes for Quinto and Pine, who try to convince us that Spock and Kirk are a “great team” and best friends, even though they barely tolerated each other in the first two movies.

Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, communications officer Uhura (Zoe Saldana), navigator Chekov (Anton Yelchin, who died in a tragic accident shortly before the film’s release), helmsman Sulu (John Cho), and the rest of the crew meet trouble in outer space in the form of Krell, an angry alien who wants to destroy a Starfleet base because...well, Pegg and Jung are a little vague. Hopes that Krell’s motivations would become clear by the third act or that we would learn more about him are dashed, as director Justin Lin, fresh from several THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS movies, moves the plot along too fast and too furious to be bothered with evolving any relationships, including the spotty romance between Spock and Uhura.

Krell is played by Idris Elba (BEASTS OF NO NATION), who is so bogged down by rubber makeup and false teeth that spoil his diction that he’s unable to give a performance. The makeup does all the emoting. A more successful addition to STAR TREK BEYOND is Sofia Boutella, the razor-legged assassin of KINGSMAN: THE SECRET SERVICE, giving an electric performance as Jaylah, a tough, smart alien stranded on the same planet as Kirk and crew after Krell destroys their beloved Enterprise. Few action cliches are left unturned, and Urban actually has to say “The fear of death is what keeps us alive” without puking.

If you had to guess which cast member wrote the film, no doubt you would guess Pegg, who gives himself the best lines and a solo subplot with Jaylah apart from the other regular cast. Editing is sloppy — shore leave at the starbase seems to last about ten minutes, and Sulu and Uhura begin a scene escaping from a cell we didn’t know they were in. The starbase itself seems imaginatively conceived, but Lin never gives a chance to get a good look at it, even though the climax is set there. Costumes are eye-pleasing and faithful to the original show, though the zippers would make Roddenberry freak out if he were alive to see them. Michael Giacchino (THE INCREDIBLES) provides a decent score (his third straight STAR TREK), and the late Leonard Nimoy’s death just prior to production is given a classy nod. The film is dedicated to him and Yelchin.

Ghostbusters (2016)

At last, a GHOSTBUSTERS movie that supplies all the queef jokes that were sadly missing from the 1984 original. Given their blessing by original stars Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd, as well as original director Ivan Reitman, all of whom profit from the success of this movie, the new GHOSTBUSTERS plows uncharted territory by making the busters of ghosts women.

Unlike the anarchic original film, which was scripted with surprises by Aykroyd and Harold Ramis, the new GHOSTBUSTERS is entirely predictable and creatively lazy. Everyone remembers the Stay-Puft marshmallow man from the original — one of film comedy’s most delightful and subversive reveals. Contrast that reveal with the big bad in the remake, which you’ll see coming an hour ahead.

Melissa McCarthy (IDENTITY THIEF) and SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE cast members past and present Kristen Wiig, Leslie Jones, and Kate McKinnon are the new ghostbusters in a screenplay by THE HEAT’s Katie Dippold and director Paul Feig that follows the basic structure of the original and finds time to shoehorn in mostly unsuccessful cameos by the original cast (the late Ramis, to whom the remake is dedicated, receives the classiest hat tip). Outside of occasionally witty visual effects and a scene-stealing turn by McKinnon as the gadget-happy ghostbuster named Holtzmann, very little of it is amusing. Chris Hemsworth, demonstrating why he rarely is cast in comedies, is the busters’ himbo secretary, a role that would spawn a hundred thinkpieces if the gender were switched. Andy Garcia (THE GODFATHER PART III) takes no billing as cinema’s 2588th foolish mayor, which spawns a timely JAWS joke.

But back to McKinnon. Of the main cast, only she is aware that the script is barely funny. Very little of what she says is funny on the face of it. But listen to her quirky line deliveries, watch the way she gestures or how she reacts to the craziness with a demented smile. She’s a little of the old Bill Murray and quite a bit of Harpo Marx (she even wears an unusual blond hairdo). Her performance is so out of step with McCarthy’s mugging, Wiig’s bumbling, and Jones’ yelling (her “feets, don’t fail me now” subway worker would spawn a thousand thinkpieces if the gender were switched) that one wonders whether the whole picture should have been structured like an absurdist Marx Brothers vehicle. McKinnon is as good in GHOSTBUSTERS as Kristen’s wig is bad.

The Taking Of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

It says a lot about THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE’s reputation that Hollywood has remade it twice, even though it isn’t the most well-known ‘70s thriller among casual filmgoers. Its plot may be standard heist stuff, but the clever screenplay by CHARADE’s Peter Stone, based on a Morton Freedgood (as John Godey) novel, isn’t at all standard, peppering the sharp dialogue and crystal-clear characterizations with cynical humor (“Screw the passengers! What the hell do they expect for their lousy 35 cents — to live forever?”). Joseph Sargent’s direction is crisp and tight, making certain not to waste a frame on anything that doesn’t contribute to telling the story.

New York City Transit Authority Lieutenant Zachary Garber (Walter Matthau, who did this after CHARLEY VARRICK and THE LAUGHING POLICEMAN) is having a bad afternoon. After giving a guided tour of the subway system to four visiting Japanese dignitaries who (he believes) don’t speak English, Garber returns to his station to discover a subway car containing 18 hostages—the Pelham 123—has been hijacked by four machine-gun-toting terrorists, including case-of-the-sniffles-carrying Mr. Green (Martin Balsam), hotheaded ex-mobster Mr. Grey (Hector Elizondo), and ice-cold former mercenary Mr. Blue (Robert Shaw).

Mr. Blue, the group’s leader, allows Garber one hour to deliver $1 million in old fifties and hundies, or he’ll begin killing a John Rocker nightmare of diverse hostages, which includes a jive-talking black man, a couple of screaming kids, an Hispanic woman who definitely doesn’t understand English, an undercover policeman, some hippies, and an old Jew. John Rocker would definitely not enjoy this ride.

Harried civil servants routinely rant, curse, and scream at each other, and their tension turns to apoplexy when Mr. Blue and crew toss a monkey wrench into their daily routine. Many of the jabs at The System and New York’s political structure are broad, but the fine cast of character actors makes them work. Matthau is completely believable as a dedicated cop trying to match wits with an adversary much smarter and deadlier than the muggers and pushers he usually deals with in the subway. His work is equaled by Shaw, who leaves no doubt Mr. Blue will do exactly as he says he’ll do if his instructions are not followed to the letter.

Actual New York City locations are well used. Although a disclaimer at the end claims the NYC Transit Authority did not participate in the making of PELHAM, it’s clear that Sargent (JAWS: THE REVENGE) would not have been able to create the tense atmosphere that he does without using real subway cars and tunnels. Cinematographer Owen Roizman (THE FRENCH CONNECTION) handles the dark, dank underground photography quite well, while David Shire’s funky musical score contributes to the film’s gritty feel. And who can deny PELHAM boasts one of the greatest final shots in film history?

The supporting cast also includes future FAMILY star James Broderick, Earl Hindman (later to be Tim Allen’s half-hidden neighbor on HOME IMPROVEMENT), Dick O’Neill, Kenneth McMillan, Doris Roberts (EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND), the solid black presence Julius Harris (LIVE AND LET DIE) as a police inspector (Matthau, upon meeting Harris for the first time after speaking to him over the radio, stammers, “Er, I thought you were a, uh, taller person, oh, hell, I don’t know what I thought.”), Jerry Stiller (very funny as Matthau’s partner), Sal Viscuso, and a nice bit by Tony Roberts as the deputy mayor.

Cosa Nostra, An Arch Enemy Of The FBI

Warner Brothers, looking to squeeze more nickels out of its television properties, released “The Executioners,” a two-part episode of THE FBI, as a feature film in overseas theaters. Perhaps executive producer Quinn Martin (THE FUGITIVE) and Warners intended COSA NOSTRA, AN ARCH ENEMY OF THE FBI to be a film from the beginning of production, since it’s packed with big-name guest stars--even for a QM show (famous for paying top dollar for guest actors). Director Don Medford and cameraman Robert Moreno seem to have composed their shots with a theatrical aspect ratio in mind, though it still looks like a television show.

Series star Efrem Zimbalist Jr. still takes top billing as stalwart FBI agent Lew Erskine, but the story sets him back in second place in favor of Walter Pidgeon (FORBIDDEN PLANET) and Telly Savalas (THE DIRTY DOZEN) as mobsters trying to avoid indictment by a New York grand jury. Probably because of the heat Martin took from the Italian-American community for the ethnic gangsters on THE UNTOUCHABLES, the Cosa Nostra are decidedly WASPy, including Robert Drivas and Robert Duvall (THE GODFATHER) as hitmen and Ted Knight (CADDYSHACK) as a gun dealer.

Savalas and Pidgeon play old friends whose families disapprove of their careers. Savalas hasn’t lived with wife Celeste Holm in ten years, and Pidgeon’s daughter Strasberg (THE TRIP) proclaims “I haven’t got a father.” Pidgeon fears Savalas, who’s still in love with Holm and yearns for their old life together, is getting soft, which could mean that Telly might end up like the last two grand jury witnesses against them.

As a TV show, “The Executioners” (which aired in 1967) is pretty good television, but it lacks scope and action. Cast aside, it’s a mystery why it was chosen to play for a paying audience. Maybe they didn’t show up, which could explain why there wasn’t a second THE FBI movie. Pidgeon and Savalas, the real stars of the film, are very good with Telly’s tentative mobster bouncing solidly off Pidgeon. Ken Lynch, Wesley Addy, Ross Elliott, Russell Thorsen, Dan Frazer (KOJAK), James B. Sikking (DOOGIE HOWSER, M.D.), Jerry Douglas, Susan Seaforth Hayes, and Anthony Eisley (HAWAIIAN EYE) co-star. Richard Markowitz (THE WILD WILD WEST) composed the score using Bronislaw Kaper’s television theme over the main titles.

The Mean Season

One-and-done screenwriter Leon Piedmont adapted John Katzenbach’s fine 1982 suspense novel IN THE HEAT OF THE SUMMER for this Orion release. Kurt Russell, in the middle of more lighthearted fare like SWING SHIFT, THE BEST OF TIMES, and BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA, stars as Miami newspaper reporter Malcolm Anderson, who’s feeling a bit burned out at work and considering a move to sedate Colorado with his schoolteacher girlfriend Christine (Mariel Hemingway). Then, The Big Story He’s Been Waiting For His Entire Career arrives in the form of a serial killer who calls Malcolm and provides sneak previews of his next murders.

Forming an uneasy alliance with police detectives Wilson (Richard Bradford) and Martinez (Andy Garcia) and a much easier one with the rest of the news media, Malcolm enjoys his new fame, even as it comes at the expense of the killer’s victims. While director Phillip Borsos (THE GREY FOX) and Piedmont are more interested in THE MEAN SEASON’s mainstream thriller elements than in digging into themes of fame and the struggle when the public’s right to know may conflict with public safety, the subtext is there, and Russell, Hemingway, and Richard Masur as Malcolm’s editor play it well.

THE MEAN SEASON takes liberties with Katzenbach’s novel at times, usually not to improve it. It makes sense that Borsos would want to gin up some action and suspense elements for his ending, but the constant false scares and cliches do the story no favors. Borsos demonstrates a keen sense of story and visuals, and his cast plays up to his standards. Russell isn’t afraid to let Malcolm shows some unlikable characteristics, and Hemingway does her best with an underwritten role of The Girlfriend. Richard Jordan (LOGAN’S RUN), who, like Borsos, died young, is mostly heard as a malevolent telephone voice as the seductive killer.

First Blood

One of the most influential film franchises of the Eighties started with FIRST BLOOD, a tough, lean action picture far different in tone from its cartoonish sequels.

Based by screenwriters Michael Kozoll and William Sackheim (who previously worked together on the staff of the Judd Hirsch cop show DELVECCHIO) on a David Morrell novel, FIRST BLOOD tells an interesting story about John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone, who considerably rewrote the script), a drifter, Green Beret, and Vietnam vet who just wants to buy breakfast and instead goes on to destroy an entire town.

Passing through Hope County, Washington on foot to visit an old Army buddy, Rambo is hassled and roughed up by Teasle (Brian Dennehy), the local sheriff, and his deputies. Wanting to avoid trouble, but tortured by flashbacks of his term in a POW camp, Rambo, after being pushed to the limit, explodes against his captors, knocking them about and escaping into the mountains, where he survives using his military training against seemingly hundreds of policemen and National Guardsmen.

It’s rarely discussed, but the performances in FIRST BLOOD are top-notch. Yes, the action is exceedingly well crafted by director Ted Kotcheff (NORTH DALLAS FORTY), the thick British Columbian locations are expertly shot by cinematographer Andrew Laszlo (SOUTHERN COMFORT), and Jerry Goldsmith’s churning score ranks among his finest work. But it’s the acting that lends weight to the story’s implausibilities and lends sympathy to Rambo’s plight.

Stallone’s performance is mostly physical, of course, but his naturalistic acting in his first scene with the mother of his old friend shows Rambo as a quiet man, shy perhaps, but with a sense of humor. Richard Crenna as Colonel Trautman, Rambo’s former Army commander and, in effect, the film’s Dr. Frankenstein, was a last-minute replacement for Kirk Douglas, but is so authoritative and avuncular in the role that it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing it.

Kotcheff assembled some strong faces to play the cops too: Jack Starrett as the brutal deputy Galt (the only character who dies in the film), Bill McKinney (DELIVERANCE) as the head of the State Police, Chris Mulkey, Michael Talbott, and a young David Caruso (CSI: MIAMI).

But it’s Dennehy who captures acting honors, portraying Teasle as a complicated man, nominally the film’s villain, but not a bad guy. Yes, he’s stubborn, close-minded, arrogant, temperamental, and responsible for Rambo’s rampage, and when Trautman shows up to “rescue” Teasle’s men from Rambo, he treats the colonel with disdain. But Dennehy also shows shades of Teasle’s more sympathetic traits when the man comes to realize he’s in way over his head.

FIRST BLOOD was a hit in the fall of 1982, spending three straight weeks at number-one at the box office and reviving Stallone’s career, which needed a non-ROCKY hit. Rambo returned in two ludicrous though entertaining sequels during the ‘80s—RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II and RAMBO III—followed by the more thoughtful and gorier RAMBO in 2008.

Thunderball

Based on an original screenplay created by Kevin McClory, Jack Whittingham, and Ian Fleming himself, the fourth 007 screen adventure was a natural followup to game-changer GOLDFINGER. THUNDERBALL, released in 1965, is bigger, longer, and louder with more stunts, more spectacle, more special effects, and more gorgeous girls in the shapely shapes of Claudine Auger (BLACK BELLY OF THE TARANTULA), Luciana Paluzzi (THE GREEN SLIME), Martine Beswicke (DR. JEKYLL & SISTER HYDE), and Molly Peters (DON’T RAISE THE BRIDGE, LOWER THE RIVER).

So many screenwriting hands in the fire (Richard Maibaum and John Hopkins receive ultimate credit) means the story doesn’t always hang loose, and some of the visuals are a little sloppy, particularly the process shots. Still, what is here is pretty fun, mostly exciting, and occasionally funny.

Sean Connery’s James Bond is sent to Nassau to investigate the theft of two nuclear bombs, which SPECTRE is holding for ransom. Though we see M (Bernard Lee) giving orders to several 00 agents on the same case, the film never checks in with them. Since we know SPECTRE operative Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi) is in the Bahamas with the bombs, what the devil are M’s other agents doing all this time?

CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON crewmen Ricou Browning and Lamar Boren handle the copious underwater photography, which includes a busy climax featuring dozens of extras in distinctively colored wetsuits killing each other — exactly the way a James Bond film should end. Connery was still enjoying the role of Bond, while on the other end, a dubbed Celi is a little wet as Largo.

THUNDERBALL includes an appearance by (a partially seen) Ernst Stavro Blofeld, who would be the main heavy in the next film, YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, with the face of Donald Pleasence. John Barry composed the iconic score and co-wrote the theme song with Don Black, which Tom Jones performed. Because of the odd legal arrangements involving the title, McClory was able to produce a remake in 1983 called NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN and somehow convince Connery to star in it.

Blue Thunder

The summer of ’83 was a great time for director John Badham, who had BLUE THUNDER and WARGAMES in theaters at the same time. BLUE THUNDER began production in November 1981, but Columbia didn’t release it until May 1983, when it debuted in first place at the box office, nearly doubling the grosses of the also debuting Richard Gere thriller BREATHLESS.

Macho performances by Roy Scheider (ALL THE JAZZ), Malcolm McDowell (TIME AFTER TIME), and Warren Oates (TWO-LANE BLACKTOP); a tight synth score by Arthur Rubenstein (STAKEOUT); and a very cool futuristic helicopter engaging in exciting stunts and chases far outweigh the demerits of the screenplay by LIFEFORCE duo Don Jakoby and Dan O’Bannon. Released the summer before the Los Angeles Summer Olympics, BLUE THUNDER and its themes of government overreach and citizens’ expectation of privacy remain relevant more than thirty years later when Americans are subjected to the Patriot Act, NSA wiretapping, and drones that kill without mercy.

Blue Thunder is a super-helicopter ostensibly developed for police to keep the peace during the L.A. Olympics, but rebellious LAPD pilot Frank Murphy (Scheider) and his rookie partner Lymangood (Daniel Stern) discover it’s really being tested for use as a secret weapon. Blue Thunder is bulletproof, equipped with high-tech video and audio equipment, fires four thousand rounds per minute, and even operates in “whisper mode” to keep its missions clandestine. Making the plot an especially personal one for Murphy is his old nemesis Cochrane (McDowall). He tried to have Frank court-martialed in Vietnam and is not only Blue Thunder’s test pilot, but also involved in the sinister government conspiracy to misuse the helicopter and murder Murphy and Lymangood to keep it secret.

Badham is counting on the audience being too wowed by the action to pay attention to the plotholes, which are abundant. The script never satisfactorily develops potentially incendiary story points like an attack on a black city councilwoman and the shadow conspiracy’s plan to incite the city’s Latin American population to riot (how and why?). In fact, except for Cochrane, the fate of the conspirators, including at least one murderer, is left hanging, though a last-scene voiceover tries to promise an overall wrap-up.

But. Will you care? Not likely. Scheider is a solid action hero, as usual, who gets to play Murphy with a touch of post-traumatic stress syndrome to humanize the beleaguered pilot. The charming Clark (AMERICAN GRAFFITI) keeps us rooting as Murphy’s girlfriend, who’s written as a reckless, spacy, and frankly absurd character. Stern (DINER) is a likable sidekick, and McDowell properly annoying. Every irritated word out of the mouth of the great Oates, in one of his final roles (he died before BLUE THUNDER’s release), is pure gold (DIRTY HARRY’s Dean Reisner’s screenplay polish provided Oates with much juicy dialogue). BLUE THUNDER earned a deserved Oscar nomination for Frank Morriss and Edward Abroms’ film editing, but lost to THE RIGHT STUFF. “Catch ya later.”