d. Eddie Romero (1977)
We’re back in the Pearl of the Orient Seas* again, this time finding out about
the hitherto hidden world of ruthless sugar barons, greedy, amoral men who are prepared to displace
native people and destroy the environment in order to make a dollar, a sweet,
sweet dollar. These men are so cartoonishly evil that, when their nice managing
director tries to make reparations to the native people for the wholescale
destruction of their homes and habitat, they have his entire family, including two little
boys and a baby, shot to death, leaving the badly injured executive for dead.
Out of danger, but still full of grief and shotgun pellets, the
man tracks down the legendary Harrison ‘Duke’ Smith (little Robert Conrad, wiry
and in very tight trousers), a man who has had an illustrious career as a state
sanctioned murderer, terrorist and all round good guy / undercover bastard. Now living out an idyllic
retirement in a shack on the beach, he initially refuses to help, giving his about to graduate teenage daughter
and a beautiful young girlfriend as reasons to stay alive.
When the man is subsequently burned alive, and Duke’s daughter tuts
at him in disapproval, he finally decides to get involved, although his motivation is far from clear. I
mean, firstly, teenage girls tut all the time and, even so, the guy is now a charcoal briquette and the rest of his family are already dead, and Duke didn’t know any of them,
so what’s the point apart from the fact that feature films aren't usually twenty seven minutes long?
Enlisting the help of his old friend Wyatt, a sharp black martial
arts expert, he roots out the conspiracy and takes out the nasty Sugar
Barons one by one, at first almost by accident and then with accelerating zeal and sadism.
Towards the end, you realise that this noble mission has unleashed a psychopath, a man
who is so used to killing that it has become his default setting.
The film’s pacing is glacial for the most part, but then culminates in a spectacular
last ten minutes, where even the camera struggles to keep up with the action.
The last third of the film is greatly enlivened by the addition of ex-surfing champ and
all round lunk / hunk Don Stroud, here playing a dandyish but socially awkward Corsican hitman
called in to take Duke out before he can murder everyone in Manila. I like Stroud, but he often makes strange acting choices, here
speaking in a weird, cotton-mouthed way, as if he wants to try an accent but is
embarrassed by it. The battle between two professional killers ends in a bruising and very bloody encounter in an icehouse, where quick cutting is used to convey violence and to disguise the fact that Stroud is at least a foot taller than Conrad.
The final moments are not entirely unexpected but are genuinely
gut-wrenching, and the use of carousel music to accompany the horror is a
masterstroke, symbolising both the grotesque tableau and the breaking of a over-stretched mind. It’s tough stuff.
*The Philippines, mate.