Blind Fury (1989, Phillip Noyce)

I’ve been meaning to see Blind Fury again for twenty-one years or so. For a while, I assumed it would be pretty good (not entirely trusting my opinion at age ten) because Phillip Noyce directed it. Unfortunately, Noyce directs it with all the enthusiasm of a cologne commercial. It’s not like there’s much he could have done with the script though.

The titles crediting Charles Robert Carner as a writer are rather misleading. Blind Fury‘s script seems more like a collection of regurgitated scenes from a very special “A-Team,” or something similarly inane.

Don Burgess’s photography is particularly lifeless. No self-respecting cologne commercial would use him. And J. Peter Robinson’s peppy score–Rutger Hauer’s blind swordsman has an upbeat outlook–is constantly annoying.

There’s some decent acting from Hauer though. Occasionally. His accent is sort of solid. He never exactly betrays it, but there’s definitely something not American about him. He just might be too familiar as European. David A. Simmons’s editing did have me wondering when the stunt men took over for him, so there’s another compliment.

Meg Foster is really good, but they kill her off in her only scene. It’s kind of hilarious how poorly Carner constructs Blind Fury‘s plot. Almost all the engaging action scenes happen in the first forty minutes (including five minutes of titles).

Terry O’Quinn’s solid. It’d have been more interesting with him as a lead.

Brandon Call, as the kid Hauer protects, is really awful.

He fits right in.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Phillip Noyce; screenplay by Charles Robert Carner, based on a story by Carner and a screenplay by Kasahara Ryôzô; director of photography, Don Burgess; edited by David A. Simmons; music by J. Peter Robinson; production designer, Peter Murton; produced by Daniel Grodnik and Tim Matheson; released by TriStar Pictures.

Starring Rutger Hauer (Nick Parker), Terry O’Quinn (Frank Devereaux), Brandon Call (Billy Devereaux), Noble Willingham (MacCready), Lisa Blount (Annie Winchester), Nick Cassavetes (Lyle Pike), Rick Overton (Tector Pike), Randall ‘Tex’ Cobb (Slag), Charles Cooper (Cobb), Meg Foster (Lynn Devereaux) and Shô Kosugi (The Assassin).


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Blind Horizon (2003, Michael Haussman)

Okay, here’s a hint: if your choice of titles are Blind Horizon and Black Point, go with Black Point. Black Point isn’t a good title for Blind Horizon, which might be an impossible-to-title film, actually, but Blind Horizon has nothing to do with the film. There are no poignant horizon shots and Val Kilmer isn’t blind in it (though I assumed he was).

Blind Horizon is a decent little film though. I had, of course, hoped–given Neve Campbell and Kilmer in the film–I’d get a family drama. Instead, Blind Horizon is an amnesia thriller. Since it was Val Kilmer and I rarely eighty-six a Val Kilmer movie (it’s happened, though, it’s called Hard Cash), I stuck with it. Certain aspects of the film are incredibly predictable–it’s a thriller, after all–but there are also some nice moments and some nice twists that I didn’t get until I sat to consider them.

Sam Shepherd’s in it and he’s good (but Shepherd’s always good, he just plays the same guy) and Amy Smart’s really good in it. Though I’ve seen a couple films she’s acted in, I try to avoid her films like the plague. But she’s good. Actually, Blind Horizon has a lot of nice performances, particularly Noble Willingham–who you’ve seen before, but never in a role like this one. Fortunately for the film–which makes no sense whatsoever–these strong performances carry everything through.

I still want a Kilmer/Campbell family drama. It’d be nice.