“Wow! I feel like I’m in the Highlander!” marveled that great philosopher, Ricky Bobby near the end of Talladega Nights and while it sadly never won the Acadamy Award for Best Movie Ever Made like the man who pisses excellence excitedly claimed, Russell Mulcahy’s gleefully preposterous fantasy flick is one if those rare 80s extravaganzas that somehow gets all the more enjoyable the more it dates.
Much has been made of the weapons grade nonsense that the coked-out, sword swinging cult legend repeatedly tries to violently cram down our willing throats, but there’s something about Highlander that defiantly deflects any scorn from sticking, be it the audavious casting of a very French man in the role of an immortal Scots warrior, or the even more bizarre sight of Sean Connery playing an Egyptian Spaniard with the most unrepentant Scottish brogue since Rab C. Nesbitt. Yes, the jokes are legion – but who gives a fuck when the film looks this good, the villain kicks ass and Queen is slaying on the goddamn soundtrack?
Meet Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, an immortal of mysterious origin who has been walking the earth for centuries, seeking others of his kind so he can engage them in a duel to the death to release their lifeforce in a act called The Quickening. How to you kill an immortal, I hear you ask? Simple really, you just lop off their head and absorb the crackly goodness that rushes forth. It’s said that when only a couple of immortals remain, they are inexorably drawn to one another thanks to an urge named The Gathering in order to bring the great game to a close.
While flashbacks show us Connor’s long and fairly tragic history as he goes from the Scottish highlands of the1536, to a duel in France in the era of powered wigs and single shot pistols, to even a short stint in the Second World War, we meet him in New York in 1985 as he beheads another immortal in the parking garage of Madison Square Garden. However, random decapitations in the Big Apple are usually frowned upon by the NYPD, so forensic scientist Brenda Wyatt vows to nail this psycho due to the paradoxical metal residues left behind by Connor’s sword.
However, there’s a far greater problem on the horizon in the form of the Kurgan, a giant slab of berzerker meat who has been gunning for Connor since his time roaming the highlands dressed like William Wallace. Not only is his perverted nemesis responsible for locking swords with his mentor, (deep breath) Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, but he also had his evil way with Connor’s then-wife; but now he’s co.ing for Connor’s head and the end of the great game is finally at hand.
Apparently – but don’t quote me on this – there can only be one.
I’m usually one to defend accusations that older films are less worthy of praise due to their technical or plot mechanics being hopelessly primitive in the face of modern filmmaking or storytelling techniques, but as far as Highlander goes, it’s often pushing its luck. Frequently relying on the awesomeness of its premise to paper over a lot of narrative plot holes – not to mention things that plainly just don’t make sense – Mulcahy channels even inch of visual prowess he can muster from years of music video experience to ensure that the film is possibly one of the most 80s things you’ll ever experience. When I mention that Mulcahy is responsible for the infamously badass Duran Duran video for Wild Boys, then you’ll probably cotton on immediately to how it looks. Sprinklers are deployed at a moments notice, random structures of scaffolding are everywhere and there’s a slick sheen over everything that makes Highlander seem way more smarter polished than it actually is.
However, its precisely that style that makes Highlander rock so fucking hard as it does as every strange style choice that thr director makes (and believe me, there are tons), ingrains itself in your brain as being either freakishly awesome or awesomely freakish. We’ve already covered the frankly batshit casting that relies far more on super charged charisma than it does logic, but there’s absolutely no reason why MacLeod should first be introduced while watching a wrestling match in Madison Square Garden featuring the Fabulous Freebirds strutting all over the place. Similarly, the sight of Celia Imrie as a buxom, Scottish bench in the 1530s is as startling as some other entertaining bouts of randomness that sees the Kurgan and Ramirez dueling in a tower that comes apart like loose Lego or a moment that sees and elderly woman clinging to the hood of a speeding car.
And yet, it all holds together with the strength of clashing steel. Helping immensely are the main players, all of whom generate enough charisma to power the city of Dubai for a year and while tasking Christopher Lambert and Sean Connery to tackle such potentially miscast roles cluld have been disastrous, their Rocky Balboa/Apollo Creed relationship works really well. Similarly nailing the brief is Clancy Brown’s magnificently over the top villain, the Kurgan, who first shows up looking like he’s emerged from the pages of a Robert E. Howard Conan story and later he gets an 80s makeover that makes him resemble the Terminator going through a thrash metal phase. Watching the man who would go on to voice Mr. Crabs in Spongebob Squarepants go all in on his antagonist duties proves to be a joy as he rasps all of his lines, licks a priest’s hand and works overtime to be the most memorable bad guy he can be. He’s so successful, that he’s almost as kick-ass as the Queen-centric soundtrack that probably understands the brief more than anyone else in the film.
Is it stupid? Yes, resplendently so – but Mulcahy is wise enough to never let logic get in the way of delivering a steady stream fantasy razzle dazzle that (to me, anyway) weirdly always felt like a great companion piece to James Cameron’s The Terminator as it concerns an invisible struggle for survival on the neon drenched streets of an urban metropolis.
It’s about as mature as a Power Rangers episode, and technically is about as deep as heavy metal album cover, but Highlander has always been a movie that weirdly becomes more fabulous the more it dates. But then, if you consider that this is a film about immortals, then maybe it’s entirely fitting that it grows ever more fun as it ages.
Is it the best film ever made like Ricky Bobby staunchly maintains? Don’t be silly, but Queen isn’t far off when they suggest that, it’s a kind of magic.
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