MEAN JOHNNY BARROWS

d. Fred Williamson (1976)

Towards the end of this intermittently action packed film, Johnny Barrows (Fred Williamson) faces off against a an old enemy: a wiry, greasy, long haired polo neck wearing assassin. They make Kung Fu noises and a pantomimic and clunky fight ensues. The bad guy puts Johnny down and looks around for something to finish him, eventually spying a small rock, which he lifts with both hands as if it weighs a tonne, raising it above his head with enormous difficulty. Johnny reaches under his sweater and dispatches his opponent with a concealed throwing star. It was at that precise moment, about thirty years ago, that my brother and I decided this was one of our favourite films of all time.  

Full of incident and guest stars, spare of plot and sense, Mean Johnny Barrows is essentially a shaggy dog story about a principled action man and highly trained ex-soldier who retains his personal integrity despite homelessness and poverty before eventually accepting a job as a Mafia hit man and taking out the members of a rival syndicate who are selling drugs to black communities. Make no mistake, it’s jarring to see Fred Williamson cleaning a toilet and eating things out of bins but it clarifies why, when he is offered the money and land he needs to make a fresh start, he reluctantly takes it. Williamson is an extraordinary figure in cinema – an actor, writer and director who isn’t very good at any of those things but has had a long career based around his supreme self-confidence and the fact that it is pretty much impossible to dislike him, no matter (or perhaps because of) how ridiculous and puffed up he appears to be. Williamson who, like a number of black male stars of the era*, made his name on the American Football field, is at his daftest in fight scenes, which he either refuses to take seriously or takes too seriously, resulting in  much comedy gurning, silly noises and over-expressive hand gestures.

Along with Stuart Whitman, R.G Armstrong, ex-Tarzan Mike Henry and Elliot Gould(!), there’s the wonderful Roddy McDowall, one of my favourite actors, here playing a weaselly mobster / florist with great humour and his usual piercing intelligence / total bemusement. Post Planet of the Apes, the already expressive Roddy became even more animated, his nose crinkling and forehead furrowing compulsively, as if trying to be seen under heavy make up, whether he's wearing it or not. It makes me like him even more, and I already like him a lot.

I give this film my highest critical and analytical rating: it’s a hoot, and you'll be glad you watched it from the first seconds to the caption on the final frame -

'Dedicated to the veteran who traded his place on the front line for a place on the unemployment line. Peace is hell'.

 *Jim Brown; Rosie Grier; Bernie Casey; O.J Simpson...