Last time: Improbably, none of the people involved in this battle had ever heard a ballad before, or were just too polite to mention it. There’s something about staring at a skull helmet that just encourages good manners, I guess.
Also, I promised we’d get to the good stuff.
5. Did somebody have a primitive insurance policy out on Connor or what?
Finally, the plan is working and all the Frasers avoid stabbing our hero, who is standing on the battlefield with an extended look of consternation. Why he is standing on the battlefield, I’m not sure: earlier we see Connor and his kinsmen Angus and Dougal all riding horses. In Connor’s flashbacks during the wrestling match, it’s clear Angus has been unhorsed, and we see the same happen to Dougal in the course of the battle scene.
If no one is attacking Connor, where did his horse go?
Perhaps that explains the look.
I have to think that an ordinary guy raised in a culture of frequent clan warfare, who is in battle for the first time, would take more initiative—if not to attack the Frasers, then to help his friends and relations who are getting walloped on the battlefield for the greater glory of the MacLeods.
Instead, after a few abortive efforts, Connor stands and gapes—at least until the Kurgan, after a bit of a blood-soaked warm-up, rides up on his/Zorro’s horse, dismounts with a snarl, and with minimal effort (and further snarling) stabs the ever-loving shit out of the Highlander.This part seems to go on forever and reminds me what I like best about the Kurgan: he loves his job.
I assume Connor raises his shield that high because the Kurgan was on a horse and he got momentarily confused, but if you watch this often enough, you begin to wonder if no one taught him what shields were for. The fact that Ramirez later has to train Connor in a lot of swordcraft only makes it odder that the people who presumably love him would send him into battle with so little training: the whole thing looks like the olden-day equivalent of someone raising a defensive arm and getting stabbed in the armpit with the kitchen knife. Connor is left weltering on the ground (bleeding from a wound that doesn’t look like it’s quite where it’s supposed to be, but that’s movie magic for you), and the Kurgan raises his sword and falls victim to what a wise man once called one of the classic blunders: he says something.
As villain monologues go, “There can be only one!” is quite short, but not short enough, as the Kurgan is tackled and Connor gets to keep his head, at least until a later movie and a more popular MacLeod.
Read the next one: The cunning of an immortal. We’re bound to see some eventually, right?
Next time: I will play the sap for you, sweethearts.
Next time on TCBOM: Why you should never watch Highlander and Police Squad! close together.
