Tetrady not as good as all the hype

Motompa Go in cold, and you're likely to emerge with your blood boiling. This has to be seen to be believed.

Anoushka Slater While it doesn't offer any answers, it both thrills and makes you think.

Phillipa Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

BA_Harrison I was drawn to The Killer Elite by a still of James Caan brandishing a walking stick at a ninja; a crippled Caan versus ninjas could surely only mean fun, especially with Sam Peckinpah behind the camera. Sadly, the scene isn't anywhere near as bad-ass as it sounds on paper, and to get there we have endure an awful lot of sluggish exposition that will most likely disappoint the majority of the director's fans.The film opens explosively enough, with Mike Locken (Caan) and George Hansen (Robert Duvall) completing a job for ComTeg, a private agency contracted by the C.I.A. to handle work of a more 'sensitive' nature. Locken and Hansen, friends as well as colleagues, are then tasked with protecting a defector, but things take an unexpected turn when Hansen, who has been bought out by a rival group, executes their ward and then turns his gun on Locken, shooting him in the arm and leg.Critically wounded, Locken is rushed to hospital and undergoes emergency surgery followed by months of intensive physiotherapy. Against all odds, Locken recuperates to the point where he is once again able to work, driven by the idea of taking revenge on his old buddy Hansen.With Locken's gradual rehabilitation taking up the bulk of the movie, The Killer Elite is remarkably devoid of the brutal violence and slow-motion bloodshed that one associates with Peckinpah, with even a machine gun shootout in a crowded street resulting in only one dead body. Worse still, the ninja showdown that had first attracted my attention comes right at the end of the film and consists of uninspired and poorly choreographed fight action featuring some of the most inept ninjas imaginable.Apparently, the film was made by Peckinpah while he was experiencing the new-found pleasures of cocaine, which goes a long way to explain why it is such a mess.

virek213 By the mid-1970s, the career of director Sam Peckinpah had basically hit the skids. He had seen one more film of his (PAT GARRETT AND BILLY THE KID) butchered by a studio (MGM) in 1973; then, in 1974, his most overtly personal film, the admittedly ghoulish-sounding BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA, was roundly trashed by audiences and critics alike. And on top of that, the excesses that had been plaguing him on and off for years were starting to dominate his life. Yet through all of this, he somehow managed to pull off the good when he was sober. A case in point was the action thriller THE KILLER ELITE, released near the end of 1975.In this film, James Caan portrays an employee for a CIA-sponsored offshoot group called ComTeg (Communications Integrity) who, in protecting a German political figure (Helmut Dantine), is maliciously wounded by his partner (Robert Duvall) in the leg and arm. Though his superiors in ComTeg (Arthur Hill; Gig Young) tell him that those injuries are so severe that he may never be able to walk fully again, Caan vows to get back into the game, exposing himself to strenuous rehabilitation and martial arts exercises. When Hill gives him the chance, via protecting a Japanese politician (Mako) until he can be gotten out of the country, Caan immediately grabs onto it, especially with the fringe benefit of knowing Duvall has resurfaced and is gunning for Mako on his own. The whole operation turns out to be part of an internecine battle of wills inside ComTeg between their two superiors, first resulting in a fatal confrontation at the Bethlehem Steel shipyard, and then a high-energy showdown aboard a mothballed World War II vessel in Suisun Bay involving Japanese kung-fu masters.It is easy to simply dismiss THE KILLER ELITE (which, however, shouldn't be confused with the similarly-titled, but unrelated and much more violent, 2011 film of the same name) as lesser Peckinpah, but he should still be given credit for having taken a strictly commercial property (much like his big 1972 hit THE GETAWAY), and turning it into a solid action film with some bursts of sardonic humor, plus points being made about the dirty business of the CIA at a time when the agency was being battered in the press for its foreign shenanigans and domestic spying, plus its role in covering up Watergate. He would return to this theme in his last film, 1983's THE OSTERMAN WEEKEND.Under Peckinpah's direction, both Caan and Duvall, who had appeared together before in THE GODFATHER, do solid work as the two friends set up against one another; and Hill and Gig Young (the latter of whom made for a dispassionate killer in ALFREDO GARCIA) are equally good in their bureaucratic roles. Burt Young and Bo Hopkins do good solid turns as Caan's two partners in the protection of Mako's ambitious Oriental political figure. As is typical with Peckinpah, the action scenes are shot and edited in that characteristic Peckinpah style; and the on-location cinematography by Philip Lathrop, whose credits include 1965's THE CINCINNATI KID (from which Peckinpah was unceremoniously fired), is also superb. And finally, Jerry Fielding, working with Peckinpah one final time, comes up with another iconoclastic music score that combines jazz, dissonance, and Far Eastern music elements.The end result may not have been "classic Peckinpah" (it is certainly less bloody than THE WILD BUNCH, STRAW DOGS, or ALFREDO GARCIA), but THE KILLER ELITE is still far superior to most of the ultra-violent action flicks that would follow in Peckinpah's wake.

Bill Slocum The problem with "The Killer Elite" is that just by seeking this film out, and investing time to watch it, you are putting more effort into the experience than many of its principals did, particularly director Sam Peckinpah.The already volatile Peckinpah was heading into rough weather with this film. According to at least one biographer, this was where he became acquainted with cocaine. Add to that his binge drinking, and it's no wonder things fell apart.It's a shame, because the concept behind the film is a good one, and the first ten minutes promise much. Mike Locken (James Caan) and George Hansen (Robert Duvall) are private contractors who do a lot of dirty work for the CIA. They move quick, live well, and seem like the best of friends - then something happens to shatter their brotherhood.An opening scene shows them blowing up a building - why exactly we aren't told, par for the course in terms of this film's murky motivation. But the implication is these guys hurt people and don't really care - antiheroes much like the Wild Bunch of Peckinpah's not-so-long-ago. An opening title tells us they work for ComTeg, then adds with obvious tongue in cheek "...the thought the CIA might employ such an organization for any purpose is, of course, preposterous." That's a pretty clever way of letting the audience know all bets are off.Add to that a traditionally strong Peckinpah backup cast, including Burt Young, Gig Young, and Peckinpah regular Bo Hopkins in the plum role of a madman who can't pass up an opportunity to be shot at for $500 a day, and you only wish that the scriptwriters, including the celebrated Sterling Silliphant, tried to do something more with the story than turn it into a platform for lazy one-liners and bad chop-socky knockoffs. An attempt at injecting a dose of liberal social commentary is awkwardly shoehorned in. "You're so busy doing their dirty work, you can't tell who the bad guys are," someone tells Locken, as if either he or we need it pointed out.Worse still are Peckinpah's clumsy direction and sluggish pacing. We're 40 minutes into the film before we get our first battle scene, a completely chaotic collection of random shots where a bunch of people we haven't even met before are seen fighting at San Francisco Airport, their battle intercut with a conversation in an office suite.By the end of the film, what's left of the cast is having a battle inside a fleet of mothballed Victory Ships, ninjas running out in the open to be gunned down while Caan tosses off one liners that undercut any hint of real suspense. "Lay me seven-to-five, I'll take the little guy," he wisecracks just before a climatic samurai duel between two ninja warriors - from China, which we all know is the land of the Ninja. (The battle takes place in San Francisco, but surprisingly no Mounties arrive to break things up.)Caan is much better in smaller scenes, like when Locken, recovering from some nasty injuries, is told by one of his bosses, played by a smooth Arthur Hill, that he's been "Humpty-dumped" by the organization. Caan refuses to stay down, and his recovery scenes, though momentum-killing for the movie, feature fine acting from him and Amy Heflin, Van's daughter, as a supportive nurse. Caan was one of the 1970s' best actors, and his laconic byplay with Heflin, Duvall, Hopkins, and both Youngs give "Killer Elite" real watchability.But you don't watch "Killer Elite" thinking about that. You watch it thinking of the film that got away.

rhinocerosfive-1 This is the film that treats ninjas the way ninjas should be treated: it shoots them with automatic weapons. Sure, it's dumb, but only compared to good movies. Compared to pretentious, noisy garbage like THE ROCK, or incompetent failures like THE CONTRACT, or any movie with Steven Seagal or the word Rambo in the title, this is hugely satisfying entertainment. What's not to like? Burt Young with a Fedora and a MAC-10, Bo Hopkins on shotgun, Mako in bad old age makeup, Caan and Duvall making up ridiculous dialog, and a drunker-than-thou Gig Young barely managing to get out of a chair without falling down: this is fun stuff. A cocaine- and whiskey-fueled Peckinpah makes 1975 San Francisco even more colorful by blowing up Chinatown and blasting holes in some of its residents. The high point is when a bunch of Japanese guys bring pajamas to a gunfight.No question, this movie is pretty idiotic. But the premise of international assassins driving to work in Marin County is so weird, it's inspired. The very idea of the CIA hiring a free-lovin', dope-smokin' black ops team based in Baghdad by the Bay is a hoot. And it's all capped by one of the least likely endings in hired-killer filmdom, when Caan abandons his wards to fate, robs a dying man and convinces Burt Young to leave his wife to come sail around the world with him. You can take the boy out of San Francisco...