Last time: Stabbing! Explosions! The good stuff!

28. Wackjob lives.

After a pause during which I try to hold on to my opinions about the Kurgan’s character development as tightly as my cat holds on to everything in this picture…

…we rejoin the movie to see that The Captain From Police Squad! and Johnny Caspar from Miller’s Crossing are paying Wackjob an official police visit in the hospital—in other words, the Kurgan still hasn’t killed anybody who wasn’t a fellow sword-wielder.

After a quick rundown on what a “survival nut” is and the unsurprising revelation that Wackjob was a Vietnam veteran, the cops reach his room. Someone has given Wackjob a bowl of fruit; that seems kind of a cruel gift for someone with an abdominal wound, but what do I know?

They try to get him to pin down Connor/Russell Nash as Kastagir’s killer, but Wackjob is adamant that 1) they’re not even close, but 2) it shouldn’t matter anyway, because he is super-duper armed and shot the heck out of the guy who did do it, only 3) it didn’t take, and now Wackjob is in a state of existential despair. (I am summarizing.)

After agreeing to work with a sketch artist, Wackjob does something that actually makes me feel sorry for him: he tries to tell the police about the Quickening. It’s one of my favorite scenes in the movie—the camera pulls back and there’s no sound, just furious gestures—and so I’ve at last given in to necessity and learned how to screengrab.

This goes over exactly as well as if you or I tried to use the same thing as an excuse for missing a family party, although at least Moran gives him a little salute before the police go outside to talk about what a nut that guy is—and since Moran specifically mentions “swordfights in New York City” as part of the general crazy, I guess we can assume the police helicopter that caught Connor and the Kurgan fighting doesn’t tell him anything.

The cops’ bad day continues at the hot-dog truck, where they buy lunch from a man reading a newspaper with the headline “HEADHUNTER – 3, COPS – 0.”  And even Tony the hot-dog guy is making fun of them as he reads the article: “What does ‘baffled’ mean?” he asks an exasperated Moran, who’s complaining about how the mayor sure would like them to stop these decapitations.

 

Next time: That all depends on how fast I can reread a book I’m not sure I want to reread.

Next time on TCBOM!: No sooner did Tony the hot-dog vendor work his way into my affections than he’s supplanted by the prettiest eyes in this movie. Also, Brenda does research.

Last time: Someone thought it was a great idea to shoot the Kurgan…who thought it was a great idea to behead Kastagir. Sort of a diametric double-drat.

27. Immortal people whacking each other (part 2): There was supposed to be an earth alley-shattering kaboom!

The survivalist wackjob is disappointed to find that he didn’t kill anybody, and probably even more disappointed when the Kurgan appears behind him (and do we care how he got behind that guy? I sure don’t) and impales him on his sword for a bit before tossing him aside with a look I can safely describe as disapproving.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had a viewing experience that made you wonder about yourself, where something objectively terrible happens onscreen and you guffaw like a hyena (most of Kingsman: The Secret Service comes to mind), but this is one of mine. The entire time Wackjob is being impaled,  I giggle like I’m reading a Robert Benchley essay. I’ve now watched this movie once a week since last fall,  and I’ll still say, “I should turn this off…ooh, wait, the survivalist is about to get stabbed!” every single time.

It’s also one of those occasions when I wonder if I am the best person to write about this movie: on one hand, this is the moment that breaks the not-doing-very-much streak I was talking about last week. On the other hand is my reluctance to admit I think this is a downright temperate response to being shot repeatedly by a jackass. And you have to give the Kurgan credit, when that guy stabs someone, he doesn’t mess around.

…Er. Where was I? Oh, right. The Quickening.

By the standards of this movie, it’s dignified: no car hoses gushing fluid, no sticking-up architecture. Even so, it’s clearly a pretty good one, because the whole damn alley explodes, with fire and shattering glass everywhere. Kastagir must have been full of awesomeness—but we knew that.

I’m not sure the Kurgan did, though, as he goes a little nuts and mugs two old people for their car. For those of us keeping score, that’s three civilians harmed in about five minutes, and I think it marks a change in how the Kurgan is portrayed in the movie in general…though that’s a post for another time.

Next time: Speakers on for a Friday musical post!

Next time one TCBOM!: Wackjob revisited, and we find out what’s in the news. Also, I may cease being lazy and give all 1.2 of you a screencap!

 

 

 

 

Last time: Kastagir brought us sunshine and rainbows and booze and fun. Connor smiled (1980s) and got stabbed a lot (1780s).

26. Oh, right. This movie’s about immortal people whacking each other (part 1).

Meanwhile, the Kurgan is checking out of the flophouse (I seem to be running out of cartoon-wolf reaction shots for this). On the way, he stops to menace the clerk for saying the following:

“How’d you like Candy? She said you were kind of kinky, huh?”

Setting aside the fact that saying that is obviously suicidal… If you thought I was really digging in with the religious analogies last time, let me say that I have pondered those words above quite a bit since the first time I watched Highlander. And as wishing for a competent fanfic writer to do the same has not panned out, I’ll just point out that, reluctant as I am to admit it, the Kurgan hasn’t actually done much for a guy who is posited as humanity’s greatest threat. Other than his attacks on immortals,  he has so far:

• Killed a bunch of MacLeods in exchange for access to Connor—possibly also because he enjoyed it, but it’s explicitly stated that it’s part of an “agreement”;
• Left Heather alive and in a condition that gives Connor no inkling of what happened;
• Left Candy the prostitute alive and mildly complaining (assuming that was in fact a complaint);
• Given the flophouse clerk a really stern talking-to.

By the standards of movies set in gritty New York, that’s pitiful. Jeff Goldblum’s nameless thug in Death Wish did worse. Still,  it’s an interesting contrast to what we see later in the movie, and I still can’t figure out if it’s a deliberate one. All I can say is that it took me years to notice.

We then have one of my favorite scenes in the movie. I’ve mentioned how good all the minor characters are, and this wackjob is no exception: a survival nut drives the dark streets of New York in what I’m pretty sure is a Trans Am, music blaring, machine guns rattling around in the car. The guy is one Rambo headband (and one bad decision) away from having his own movie, in other words.

Wackjob passes an alley and sees two guys fighting with swords: it’s the Kurgan and Kastagir, who will henceforth be known as The Fellow Who Should Have Stayed In And Ordered Room Service. Wackjob grabs one of his guns, thrilled to have some actual crime to fight, and tries to break things up. The immortals sensibly ignore him; less sensibly, Kastagir is not wearing a thick metal collar. Soon he’s not wearing a head anymore either.

And just as the Kurgan is about to have a totally-not-a-sexual-analogue experience, Wackjob shoots him full of bullets. How rude.

 

Next time: Hitchcock for Found-Again Friday.

Next time on TCBOM!: Explosions! I know I promised you explosions this week, but the farther into the movie you get, the harder it is to, er, slice things up properly.

 

 

 

Last time: I put my fingers in my ears and said, “La la la I can’t hear any really sappy songs, how about you?” until it was over.

25. Maybe I do have something in common with the Highlander other than chronic ennui. Too bad it’s at the end of the next paragraph…

On a picturesque bridge, Connor encounters a cheerful immortal man dressed like popular interpretations of Jesus. This would be Sunda Kastagir, an old friend. Why do I feel like Connor is the dullest person in all his relationships?

They reach as if for their swords. Connor comes out empty-handed; Kastagir has a flask. Then they hug. If this whole there-can-be-only-one thing were democratically decided by the ruled (us), I suspect Kastagir would win, because a guy who can look at the Gathering and say “I think we should have a party” is the guy you want ruling the world.

It can be hard to pick out amid the swinging swords, but I’ve often thought Highlander is in part an exploration of the nature of God—the premise sort of demands it—and Connor is the deity we’re familiar with from traditional Christianity: not particularly interested in being visible, occasionally capricious, basically well-intentioned, but with no real plan to interfere in the lives of humanity for good or ill. This would make Kastagir more of a water-into-wine Jesus figure (or any of the many analogues available in mythology), and the Kurgan would probably be related to the Gnostic version of the Demiurge—he wants to rule, but something critical is missing.

Hey, not all of my referents are popular songs, or even my idea of popular songs.

But back to Kastagir, who is with us for all too short a time and who should probably buy a thick metal collar tout de suite. (That cannot possibly be a spoiler.) (Perhaps Connor has an antique diver’s helmet he could borrow?)

Connor sniffs at the flask. Kastagir says, “Maybe you think I’m tying to poison you.” If you’re starting to daydream about all the sneaky things immortals could do to disable each other and gain the upper hand, so am I, but the movie doesn’t want to follow us there—and with the Kurgan running around, can you blame it? That could get bad in a hurry.

Their reminiscences lead to another flashback, this one to the 18th century, when Connor is trying to fight a duel of honor while completely stinking drunk. He’s run through several times, bouncing right back every time, and eventually apologizes for the insult that started the whole thing and wanders away. It’s hilarious, but it’s more grist for my wounds-and-recovery-of-immortals mill, because I repeat: he’s run through several times. I just watched the 1940 Mark of Zorro movie, and granted that nobody in the Zorro film is supernatural, nonetheless Basil Rathbone’s character is killed stone dead by about three-quarters of anything that happens to the Highlander in this flashback.

So there you have it: from the sublime Kastagir to “Do Immortals Have Spleens?”. This movie is like that sometimes.

Next time: Speaking of the sublime to the ridiculous, it’s likely I’ll be looking at either Hitchcock or Bruce Campbell for Friday.

Next time on TCBOM!: One Kurgan, one explosion, one good time.

 

 

 

Last time: Connor blew up the whole enterprise and made us listen to Ramirez again. Connor sucks.

24. Who indeed?

Welcome to my least favorite part of Highlander. I whine like it’s Ramirez, true, but it’s actually this sequence here, which I’ll summarize in a few words and then talk about poor old Heather.

In short: In flashback, we see that Connor stays with Heather while she grows old and dies, living in the shadow of the ruined tower with “Who Wants To Live Forever?” playing in the background. He also comforts her in her last moments (movie’s interpretation)/bores her right into the grave with a twee speech (my interpretation), leaving behind his MacLeod sword and taking Ramirez’s as his personal weapon.

Let me wade in at the shallow end here: I despise “Who Wants To Live Forever?” and have ever since it played on the Highlander series and my mother actually asked me, “Is that Clannad? It sounds like that Robin Hood music.” I was a 20-year-old music snob at that point, so the tone in which I replied, “NO, MY GOD NO IT IS NOT THAT ROBIN HOOD MUSIC,” was probably over the top. Still, the ghost of that exchange haunts me every time I hear this, and my only explanation for the song’s existence is that Freddie Mercury accidentally opened a message from the universe intended for Michael Crawford.

Instead, let us spare a moment for Heather [maiden name unknown] MacLeod, the most screwed-over person in the entire Highlander film. I always find myself assuming that it is, in some way, her tower, which would suggest that something terrible happened with her family; the fact that she would consider marrying a guy who was exiled by his own clan backs this up, I think. Then her happy marriage is interrupted by a blowhard Spaniard, her house is knocked down in a supernatural contest of might, she’s molested by a madman, and even here, at the end, it’s still up in the air whether Connor told her he’s infertile or she just figured it out over the decades. (I imagine when the Kurgan grabbed her, she probably thought, “At least I’ll probably end up pregnant, like the ballads all say.” Poor Heather.)

And through it all, we see in this montage that she just kept on happily running her little farm. It never occurred to Connor to, say, suggest that she run down to the village and see the cute [insert ye olde profession here] sometime during her childbearing years so they could have a putative kid? It’s a solution that’s been used from time immemorial by mere mortals all over the world in cases like this—and yes, I suppose this means I’m citing Heart’s “All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You” as further evidence that Connor sucks. This guy is the hero of the movie: I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want something a little more solid than “doesn’t intend to hurt people” to hang my hat on here.

Did I mention this part of the movie has some of the worst makeup effects I’ve ever seen anywhere, including the section on theatrical makeup in my family’s old 1953 encyclopedia? I should have. Literally any way you look at it, Heather gets the shaft.

Next time: Unknown.

Next time on TCBOM!: Now we can start an entirely different kind of party!