Cinema of Swords

#9, Highlanders

Cinema of Swords

A Popular Guide to Movies about Knights, Pirates, Samurai, and Vikings (And Barbarians, Musketeers, Gladiators, and Outlaw Heroes)

By Lawrence Ellsworth

Welcome to the Cinema of Swords Substack! This series is a companion and expansion to my Cinema of Swords hardcover (Applause Books, 2023), which collects over 400 tasty mini-reviews of screen swashbucklers from the Silent Era through The Princess Bride.

This Substack builds on that foundation, continuing forward with reviews of swordplay movies and TV shows from the ‘90s to the present. Every week I’ll present two to four illustrated reviews on a common theme written both to inform and to entertain.

If you enjoyed the contents of the book, this weekly series will give you plenty more of the same. (And if you haven’t seen the book, look for it wherever you do your book shopping!)

Highlanders

Highlander (1986) seemed to come out of nowhere, a high-octane adventure flick that was an unprecedented combination of historical swashbuckler, sci-fi conspiracy thriller, and timeslip romance, conveyed at a breakneck pace with flashy special effects and the esthetics of a music video. The romantic leads were sexy, the antagonists were over-the-top supervillains, yet the whole thing was somehow grounded by the inclusion of a grinning Sean Connery in a key supporting role.

Highlander was a massive global success, and though the story of the first film ties up neatly at the end, the movie developed such a fervent following that a sequel seemed inevitable. And indeed, there was a whole series of sequels, not to mention a five-season TV show and other spin-offs… but the Highlander sequels didn’t conform to the usual pattern of follow-ups to a surprise hit. In fact, Highlander II didn’t seem to conform to any kind of pattern, with wild and wonderful results, as you’ll see below.

(Note: The first review, that of Highlander, originally appeared in Cinema of Swords and is excerpted from that book to provide some context for the sequels.)

Highlander

Rating: ****

Origin: UK, 1986

Director: Russell Mulcahy

Source: Weltkino DVD

The story of this enormously entertaining action fantasy doesn’t bear close inspection, but it only takes itself seriously enough to keep you hanging on through the thrill ride. Director Russell Mulcahy made his name on music videos for early MTV, and his stylistic use of quick cuts and orbiting Steadicams, while standard now, was a revelation in 1986.

The story is set in Scotland in the 16^th century and in New York City in 1985, cutting back and forth between the two. Highlander Connor MacLeod (Christopher Lambert) goes to battle with his clan mates where he faces a mysterious bone-clad knight called the Kurgan (Clancy Brown) who impales MacLeod with his broadsword. He’s rescued by his friends, but instead of killing him, MacLeod’s lethal wound heals overnight. Accused of witchcraft and driven from his village, MacLeod, living alone but for his wife Heather (Beatie Edney), has no idea what this all means until he’s tracked down by an ebullient Spaniard, Ramírez (Sean Connery). Ramírez explains to MacLeod that he’s one of an elite group of immortals who live only to kill each other and absorb their extra-human energy in an event called “the Quickening.” The Spaniard trains MacLeod in swordplay to withstand the inevitable return of the Kurgan, until one day their nemesis shows while MacLeod is away….

In 1985, in the current-day storyline, MacLeod, still alive after over four centuries, is attacked in a parking garage by Fasil (Peter Diamond), another immortal. After a furious sword-fight MacLeod beheads him, the only way an immortal can be slain, and absorbs his power. Then the cops arrive. MacLeod is arrested and released for lack of evidence, but he’s attracted the attention of forensic scientist Brenda Wyatt (Roxanne Hart), who also happens to be an expert on ancient swords and who finds Fasil’s exotic blade. Obsessed, Brenda tracks down MacLeod and they fall for each other, but the Kurgan tracks down MacLeod as well, because it’s finally time for the Gathering, when the last two immortals must fight to the death. (You know the meme: There Can Be Only One.)

This is solid silly fun, with scenery chewed by all concerned, because in addition to threats of decapitation there’s also the Angst of Doomed Romance. The exaggerated broadsword combats are not what you’d call historically authentic, but these immortals are not so much swordsmen as badass superheroes who happen to wield swords. This is just as well, because none of the actors are credible fencers except for Peter Diamond who, along with Bob Anderson, is responsible for choreographing the sword fights—the same team who performed that service for Star Wars. And there are definite visual echoes of Return of the Jedi’s lightsaber battle in MacLeod and the Kurgan’s final clash, under a giant electric sign at night on a downtown rooftop, and then in a dark and empty warehouse below. However, watch this if only to savor Connery’s over-the-top performance as an Egypto-Spanish immortal with an inexhaustible lust for life and an impossibly anachronistic Japanese katana. You won’t be sorry. 

Highlander II: The Quickening

Rating: * (Essential)

Origin: USA/France/Argentina, 1991

Director: Russell Mulcahy

Source: Entertainment in Video DVD

This is the only film I’ve ever rated * (Essential). A one-star-essential? That’s inherently absurd—like this movie. This thing is a wretched bomb, a complete failure, a shambling undead Frankenstein monster of a film, but trust me: ya gotta see it.

The basics, for context: this is a direct sequel to the 1986 action classic Highlander, made by the same director, Russell Mulcahy, with the same stars, Christopher Lambert and Sean Connery. And on the face of it, it could be considered a natural progression from its hit predecessor, given the first movie’s hand-wavy inexplicable backstory, its emphasis on style over substance, and its loony leading villain. However, this sequel had a difficult production history, produced and shot in Argentina in the middle of that country’s financial meltdown, and under stress it metastasized and went mad. Highlander II’s backstory is three times as inexplicable as the first’s, its substance utterly usurped by demented style, its leading villain a caricature of a parody of a lampoon.

Let’s start with the backstory, which is notorious for its disconnection from the first film, not to mention from logic, coherence, and every principle of storytelling. Highlander featured a goofy conspiracy-theory alternative history in which immortal warriors sought each other across the millennia to steal their supernatural power by beheading each other with swords. That’s a thin pretext for flashy duels between larger-than-life swordsmen, but sure, whatever. Highlander II takes all that and simply discards it in favor of making the immortal warriors aliens from a planet called Zeist who, 500 years ago, had a civil war in which the losers were teleported to Earth where they became immortal killers whom the Zeistian tyrant Katana suddenly wants slain because… well, look, stories are my business, and I have no idea. Plus, for added inexplicability, 25 years before the start of the movie the Earth’s ozone layer breaks down and is replaced by a flickering aurora called the Shield invented by Conor MacLeod (Lambert), because somehow he’s suddenly a super-scientist or something, but the Shield Corporation that manages it is bad and on their watch the world descends into urban dystopia overrun by punkish thugs swaggering through the streets dodging intermittent and unexplained discharges of steam.

Then there’s this film’s aforementioned demented visual style. It wants to be Tim Burton’s Batman, and it wants to be Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, but most of all beyond reason it desperately wants to be Ridley Scott’s Bladerunner. It wants this so badly that at times the incoherent action stops dead so the camera can dwell lovingly on Bladerunneresque (that’s a word now) set designs and pretentious lighting that add literally nothing to what passes for a story in this hot mess.

And then there’s the villain, Katana (Michael Ironside), who seems to base his characterization on Jack Nicholson’s Joker but without a shred of Nicholson’s restraint (ahem), starting at deranged and going from there. But that’s entirely in sync with this film’s exuberant and enthusiastic WTF incoherence, its cackling Zeistian assassins, MacLeod’s random romance with a glamorous terrorist, Connery’s Ramírez zapping in out of nowhere and then spending ten minutes buying a garish fitted suit, a bonkers flight safety video that seems to have wandered in from Kentucky Fried Movie, and the nominal star (Lambert) whispering his lines in a guttural murmur so that half the time he’s unintelligible. It’s a glorious shambles, and you can’t look away.

If you think maybe Quickening will be saved, like the first film, by its spirited swordplay, forget it: the movie’s graceless hacking directed by Frank Orsatti is on par with the silliness of the rest of this production. It’s unbelievably bad.

Look, you’ve all heard the jokes about the Highlander sequels: “Good thing they never made any,” or “There should only have been one.” Don’t let this scathing contempt, no matter how well deserved, keep you from the once-in-a-lifetime experience of this amazing travesty. Strap in, push that big button, and go for it.

Side note: There’s a special edition of this film known as the Renegade Version, a radical revision that retcons the theatrical release to remove its worst excesses and to bring it in line with the first movie’s backstory, which some people somehow thought was important. Have nothing to do with this Renegade Version, which takes a priceless artifact of unprecedented wackiness and makes it merely boring. Just think of Highlander as having two children, Highlander III: The Sorcerer and II: The Quickening, where the latter is just the Extremely Evil Twin of the former. Because, you know, there could be two.

Highlander III: The Sorcerer

Rating: **

Origin: UK/Canada/France, 1994

Director: Andy Morahan

Source: Concorde DVD

Many fans of the Highlander series like to pretend the jolly brain-melting debacle of Highlander II doesn’t exist, and this film takes the same approach, completely ignoring II’s premise, its story, indeed, its very existence. Highlander III picks up a few years after the first movie left off, adding some new backstory to the immortal Connor MacLeod’s long life but otherwise making an effort to conform to the situation and events of Highlander.

If you really want to reach the folks who enjoyed the original movie, that’s a good idea, right? Unfortunately, it’s Highlander III’s only idea, because otherwise it’s pretty much just a recapitulation of Highlander only less good in every way. Back in the 17^th century, MacLeod (Christopher Lambert again), after the death of his first wife Heather, journeys to Japan to find the maker of the katana wielded by his late friend Ramírez. In a lonely mountain cave he finds another immortal, Nakano (played by Mako—yes, Conan’s personal wizard), who teaches him many secrets, but MacLeod refuses to take his head and absorb his ultimate magic, the power of illusion. However, another immortal is on his way to take Nakano’s head himself, a very bad one named Kane (Mario Van Peebles). (Darned clever, naming an immortal killer after the Bible’s original murderer, eh? Too bad about 57 other genre fiction authors thought of it first.) There’s a fight, Nakano is killed, MacLeod escapes, and Kane is entombed when the “quickening” that accompanies the death of an immortal collapses the sorcerer’s cave on top of him.

All fine so far, but then the movie cuts to 1994 and the story gets dull, presenting a rehash of elements from the first film, except told poorly. There’s another beautiful young female researcher, Dr. Alex Johnson (Deborah Kara Unger), who like Brenda Wyatt in the first movie lives in New York City and becomes fascinated with unraveling the story of the immortal Connor MacLeod. There are more tough-talking NYC cops to harass the heroes and get thrown around by the villains, because there are 95 minutes to fill here. Kane is pretty much just the Kurgan plus the illusion powers he stole from Nakano, and MacLeod still just wants to be left alone (we feel you, buddy), now mainly because he has a son he’s adopted in Morocco. None of this adds up to much. There’s an incoherent flashback subplot set in revolutionary France apparently just because the immortals are all about decapitation and the French Revolution had guillotines, with a pointless love affair with an English noblewoman who looks just like Alex Johnson. (She says things like, “I wish we could go on like this for a thousand years”—can you handle the irony?) Adopted son John appears only long enough to be used as a plot element when Kane abducts him. And novice director Morahan tries to ape Russell Mulcahy’s flashy visual style and just fails utterly.

Worst of all, the conflict between immortals MacLeod and Kane is a flop, a damp squib, because we’ve got no reason to care about either of these dopes. Lambert still hasn’t learned how to act (I’m pretty sure his usual expression of dumb incomprehension isn’t acting), and still delivers his lines in a flat rasp that’s nearly unintelligible. In this he’s outdone by Peebles’ Kane, who ups the ante by speaking in an even harsher rasp that’s even less intelligible. This is just as well, since his lines are all clichéd claptrap such as, “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way.” Embarrassing. And alas, MacLeod and Kane’s swordfights, the main events, the things we came for, turn out to be ludicrous and awful, poorly choreographed and badly shot, conveying neither skill nor power. In the end, Highlander III, for all its efforts at fan service, is utterly dispensable, just one big wasted opportunity. Nothing to see here, move along.

Next Week: Blood on the Blade, classic Chinese wuxia stories adapted for the screen. Don’t miss it!

About Lawrence Ellsworth

Lawrence Ellsworth is the historical fiction nom de plume of Lawrence Schick, author of The Rose Knight’s Crucifixion and editor of The Big Book of Swashbuckling Adventure. See my website at swashbucklingadventure.net.

My current ongoing project is compiling and translating new, contemporary editions of all the books in Alexandre Dumas’s Musketeers Cycle, a series that when complete will fill nine volumes. Volume 7, Devil’s Dance, is currently being published in serial form on the Substack platform. Volumes 8 and 9 are forthcoming. Check the series out at musketeerscycle.substack.com.

As Lawrence Schick, I’m a writer and game designer primarily associated with narrative or role-playing games, a career I’ve pursued for over forty years, starting in the late 1970s working for Dungeons & Dragons co-creator Gary Gygax, moving into video games in the ‘80s and then online role-playing games in the ‘90s. I was lead writer and “loremaster” for The Elder Scrolls Online for over nine years, and most recently I’ve returned to D&D as the Principal Narrative Designer for Larian Studios’ massive Baldur’s Gate 3.

Copyright © 2023 Lawrence Schick