The Fury (1978)
The Fury
(1978)
Brian De Palma's immediate follow-up to “Carrie” (1976)
it shared a theme, teenagers with destructive Telekinetic powers (and in this
case, also Telepathy) and it also carries over some of “Carrie’s” talented cast
and crew. Of the many notable things about the movie was that despite this, it was
distinctly its own film.
While “Carrie” concerned High School hazing and Domestic
Abuse, “The Fury” embraced the Paranoias of country reeling from the ever-worsening
revelations of the criminality and blood-thirstiness of America’s Intelligence
Agencies demonstrated by the Watergate Scandal and subsequent Church Committee.
Though solidly within the SF/Horror genre it actually shared more with Espionage
films like “Three Days of the Condor” (1975) than any other SF/Horror I can
think of, including others that combined the themes of Political Conspiracy and
PSI powers like “Scanners” (1981).
Though an inferior film to “Carrie” it is still a
remarkable demonstration of De Palma story-telling prowess, a prowess he often
doesn’t commit the time and patience to exploit. It has a largish cast with six
central characters, so two less central players than “Carrie,” and they’re not
nearly as substantively developed as those in the previous film. This is
largely because a there’s a hell of a lot of plot mechanics to lay out and only
118-minute-running-time. But it’s buoyed by an excellent cast, a ferocious
forward momentum, and De Palma’s ability to communicate complex motivation
through demonstration and inference rather than more developmental and expository
scenes. Also, as always, De Palma creates exceptional set pieces, and I’d also
argue that this would be the last instance where his set-pieces served
narrative instead of the other way around until he stepped away from the Horror/Thriller
genres years later (after the disastrous “Body Double” (1984)).
The first scene introduces three of the central
characters:
Kirk Douglas plays Peter
Sandza, a retired Feld-Op from some unnamed Intelligence Agency. He’s
vacationing in the Middle East with his son, Robin, and his best friend and
former boss, Ben. He’s giving his son, who’s socially awkward and insecure but
also gifted in some then-unspecified manner, fatherly advice -- he wants Robin
to attend a Boarding School that Ben has set up.
This conversation is interrupted
by a speed-boat attack by machine gun-toting Terrorists. In quick succession
Peter displays remarkable tactical skills for an old man (Douglas was in his
sixties at the time), Ben manages to get Robin out of the fray, Robin thinks he
sees his father die. In the film’s first big twist, it turns out that the Terrorists
are in Ben’s employ; the attack was a cover for the assassination of Peter, so
Ben could more easily control his son. Robin thinks Ben rescued him, but in
fact he’s kidnapped him.
But Peter is not dead, and he
knows he’s been betrayed, and the rest of the film he’s running from Ben’s army
of agents and running towards Ben to rescue his son. It’s damned hard for Peter
to find a safe hiding place the closer he gets to Robin.
Andrew Stevens plays
Robin Sandza, who has incredible, but undeveloped, PSI powers. It will become a
plot-point that Ben’s school, the Paragon Institute, is a front for another Intelligence
Agency (we’re up to two-or-three now), the Multiphasic Operations Research Group (MORG}, that
is unknown to Peter or even the President. Paragon’s main function is to sort
out Psychics with only modest ability from those that can be weaponized by MORG.
Robin’s powers are compared to an “atom bomb” but he’s showing increasing signs
of emotional instability; this is because Ben is brain-washing him to hate
Arabs (the staged Terrorist attack was part of this), but there deeper causes
implied, that Robin was already on the razor’s edge of instability even before
he fell into the clutches of Evil.
His father, though the films Hero
and apparently a force for Good, is also a trained killer, and this must have
led to a communication of a certain moral relativism to his sin, exceptionally
dangerous in a Super Human starting to manifest narcissistic tendencies. Moreover,
as a field agent, Peter was inevitably an absentee father and all the while it
is obvious, though unstated, that Robin also lacks a mother. In that very first
scene, Peter is trying to convince Robin, who we must conclude was raised by
strangers, to go away to a Boarding School, even though Peter, now retired,
should now have time for his near-adult son. Significantly, while Peter spends
the bulk of the film in single-minded pursuit of his son’s rescue, he never
speaks who this boy actually his, his life with him, or the absent mother.
But the film doesn’t heap the
blame on Peter, but Ben. Ben wakes Robin completely dependent on him, so when
Gillian appears, Robin becomes jealous that he might be replaced. Training
Robin to become an assassin, he’s fed a steady stream of anti-Arab propaganda,
and turns around and murders a could of innocent Arabs.
John Cassavetes plays
Ben Childress, the Villain. Though Douglas clearly gave the film’s best
performance, Cassavetes deserves special note because his character was the
most difficult. Ben existed in defiance of all conventional Character
development because in dialogue the Character reveals nothing; Ben is all
façade, everything coming out of his mouth is self-serving, and 90% of it is
lies (in the very last scene, Ben makes a big reveal, the last plot twist,
except, can we even trust what he said was true?). Ben is only revealed through
actions: he’s manipulative, devoid of love or loyalties, committed only to
controlling the PSI powerful teens. At one point he gives a half-explanation as
to why of this obsession, but had his statements on the subject been true, there
would’ve been no need to betray Peter. Ben’s true obsession is that of absolute
power, and his manipulation of the children must represent some deeply
engrained jealously of power he didn’t have. In furtherance of that domination,
he tried to kill Peter, a potentially completive influence for Robin’s soul,
and he plotted to kill the parent of another power Psychic teen, though all of
Ben’s machinations fall apart before the assassination is executed. As
excellent as Cassavetes is, he seemed a bit annoyed with the role, at one point
he told co-star Amy Adams that she probably felt she wasted her time in acting
school to do parts like this.
Amy Irving plays
Gillian Bellaver, whose story unfolds parallel to the one above. She’s the same
age as Robin and shares with him tremendous PSI powers and an incomplete family
unit (again an absent father) and she’s also sent to Paragon who alert MORG of
her. But inference establishes that her family life was more stable than
Robin’s, and even after Ben starts manipulating her, she doesn’t endure the
same traumas and tortures, so ultimately doesn’t display the same instability. Her
story is allowed to unfold in a leisurely manner, with a far more conventional Character
development. More than half the film is structured so we have an action scene
regarding Peter and Ben’s cat-and-mouse, then Robin displaying increasing instability,
then Gillian slowly discovering she has powers, then back to Peter, then back
to Gillian.
The main cast is rounded out
with Carrie Snodgress as
Hester and Fiona Lewis as Dr.
Susan Charles. Hester is allied to, and manipulated by Peter; while Susan is
allied to, and manipulated by Ben, so all three females leads as Victims of
male-manipulation, though in Gillian, it’s barely stated when everything explodes.
Both Carrie and Susan will suffer terrible fates because of their allegiances,
but Susan, on the side of Evil, will suffer the worse, and it will be through
her that we will see how depraved Robin has become.
The story of the
Psychic teens has interest, but the real excitement is the Espionage/Chase
Thriller focused on Peter. There’s a wonder set of sequences built around a few
blocks in Chicago, starting with the Plymouth Hotel (which doesn’t exist
anymore, but was made into America’s most famous flea-bag because of the
numerous films it was featured in) and ending in a car chase on a night so
foggy that the pursuers can’t see who they are chasing, that stands as some of
the best action stuff of its decade. As Rivers of Grue
described it, “This gifted craftsman keeps his voyeuristic lens constantly on
the move and this creates a great sense of urgency to compensate for any lulls
in the narrative.” To say nothing of how it smooths over the many holes in the
plot.
It’s is based on the novel “The
Fury” (1976) and was adapted to the screen by its Author, John Farris, though I
suspect it may have undergone massive, uncredited, rewrites before production. I
haven’t read the novel, but based on reviews, it focuses on Gillian far more
than Peter, both Gillian and Peter are significantly younger, and the film is
far more linear than the book. The film treats the PSI elements are regulated
to how they serve the story, a MacGuffin like a
secret formula in a Hitchcock espionage, while the novel spends a lot of time
exploring metaphysics nowhere to be found on screen. A quarter-of-a-century
later Farris would write three more sequels, each delving deeper and deeper
into Metaphysical Horror, but there has been no attempt to adapt them.
The score was by John
Williams, who had worked with Hitchcock on “Family Plot” (1976), and achieved
fame for “Jaws” (1975), “Close
Encounters of a Third Kind” and “Star
Wars” (both 1977). It was highly praised, but I found it inferior to De
Palma’s more frequent collaborator Pino Donaggio, and integrated into the film awkwardly. De
Palma often slathers his scores onto his films like butter on toast, and this
is a notable example. The rescue of Gillian from Paragon, which was also
Hester’s death scene, was a remarkable execution of complex actions, De Palma
at his best, but the inappropriate music made it almost comical.
The triumph of
that same scene was the flawless Editing of Paul Hirsch, this film was the sixth
of ten films he collaborated with De Palma. He is aided by Richard
H. Kline’s cinematography which combines tracking shots and zoom lens with
grand overhead sweeping shots to rather splendiferous effect.
There’s a fair amount of violence, but little gore until
near the end. Conventional violence, with guns, is matter-of-fact, but PSI
violence is extreme, with the Victim levitated and then spun so faster that the
blood spews out from centrifugal force and then the body rips apart
(beautifully icky, and anticipating “Scanners”)
SF films had a steady audience and support of some
world-class directors in the 1920s through mid-30s, but then that cinema all
but disappeared, likely the horrors of WWII made this kind of often polemical Fantasy
seem distasteful. It came back with a vengeance in 1950, and never disappeared
afterwards. The 50s also gave us TV, and movies on TV are probably why SF never
disappeared again, kids grew up watching SF which had been true for earlier
generations, and as those kids became filmmakers in the mid-60s, SF grew, and
there was an attempt to bring great seriousness to it, an urge to prove it had
matured.
Maturity proved to be an ambition that delivered
diminishing returns. By the mid-1970s many of the SF films I loved the most
were clearly not as smart or profound as they postured, they were. Then came “Star
Wars” proving not only that purest escapism was more popular than handwringing
about nuclear war or dystopian systems, but was actually a greater artistic
achievement as well.
“The Fury” was perfectly timed for the post-“Star Wars” SF-boom,
because it was almost as pulpy as “Star Wars,” but many times smart. True, it
ditched the novel’s metaphysics. True, the themes of Government abuse were rather
cookie-cutter. But the relationships were not, there was real thought and
complexity there. It was exciting, suspenseful, fun … and darkly thoughtful.
No, it wasn’t as smart or compelling as the other
SF/Espionage Thriller of the same year, “The Boys from Brazil” but it was still
damned good and towered over all the “Star Wars” knock-offs.
Trailer:
The
Fury (1978) Official Trailer #1 - Kirk Douglas Movie HD - YouTube
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