FFOLKES/NORTH SEA HIJACK: Both My Parents Died Tragically at Childbirth

NORTH SEA HIJACK(1979; UK); NORTH SEA HIJACK (1980; Rest of World) – Directed by Andrew V. McLaglen – Starring Roger Moore, James Mason, Anthony Perkins, Michael Parks, David Hedison, Jack Watson, Jeremy Clyde, and Faith Brook.

Thin line between awful and awesome? Thy name is FFOLKES. Or NORTH SEA HIJACK. Or ASSAULT FORCE.

How much do you like Roger Moore?

Because if you are like me, and like him quite a bit, then FFOLKES is a film you absolutely have to see. You’ll love it. You won’t love it because it’s reminiscent of his work as Simon Templar or James Bond, but you’ll love it because Moore is so totally committed to not being those guys that he breathes fully-realized life into one of the most preposterous characters ever committed to film.

Moore plays Rufus Excalibur ffolkes, and yes, ffolkes is correctly spelled with a lowercase “f,” a man who hates women, loves cats (insert your own pussy galore joke here), drinks Scotch straight from the bottle, and is such a master strategist that he has his own counter-terrorism team that he trains to complete their missions down to the second. Also, read the title of this review again: “Both my parents died tragically at childbirth.”

Both his parents. At childbirth.

He was being birthed. By his mother. And his father died.

Moore is brilliant. Brilliant. His performance here might very well be my favorite performance in an awful movie because he is so committed to this woman hating, cat loving, scotch drinking, arrogant man with a really messy beard.

Because NORTH SEA HIJACK (it’s original UK name) or FFOLKES (it’s rest-of-the-world-name) or ASSAULT FORCE (it’s US network television name) is pretty awful. It’s a film which involves a terrorist taking over an oil rig supply ship and threatening said oil rig that brings the British government to its knees, and the Prime Minister, the terrorists, and the master strategist play out this dramatic set-up by doing a whole lot of sitting around and talking.

An unbelievable amount of sitting around and talking. Lou Kramer (Anthony Perkins) spends 99% of the film on the bridge of the supply ship, Esther.

No, I’m just kidding. Kramer does not spend 99% of the movie on the bridge of Esther. It’s only 96%.

When Kramer takes over Esther, he calls the British government and tells them, “I’ve got bombs. I’ve got bombs on Jennifer and Ruth and Esther! I want 25 million pounds in five different monetary denominations. And I’ll give you 24 hours or things go boom!”

The British government pulls the Prime Minister (Faith Brook) out of a party or out of bed (her dress sorta looks like it could do double duty at official functions and bedtime), and they chat about their options. James Mason says things like, “I’m 69 years old. Why do I still need a paycheck this badly?” The Lord Privy (an enjoyable Jeremy Clyde) suggests they get ffolkes, but people are a bit nervous about this, despite the fact that ffolkes already predicted a terrorist might try to take over the oil rig just like Kramer has done. With all of those options on the table, what action does the assertive Prime Minister take?

She goes to bed.

Literally. She doesn’t even ask, “Why do we name all oil rigs and supply ships after women?”

In her next scene, we’ve jumped ahead to the next morning where she’s like, “Well, I guess it’s time to make a decision. Let’s go with the cat lover.”

That’s followed by more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking. Then more talking.

But hey, some of that talking takes place with people sitting down while other talking scenes take place with people standing up, so it’s not like you get bored by all the talking.

Luckily, we have the crew of Esther who have been taken hostage by Kramer and aren’t happy about that. They actually do crazy things, like, try to stop the terrorists! Those wacky kids.

Despite all the talking, despite the fact that the movie isn’t any good, I kinda love it. Moore is so good, and looks to be having so much fun delivering his lines, that FFOLKES or NORTH SEA HIJACK or ASSAULT FORCE ends up being hard to turn away from. (Heck, even the fact that the movie has three completely different names adds to its charm.)

How can you not love a movie in which Moore rambles out:

“A wet suit in vermilion. Just what one needs at night.”

“I’ll have your balls for breakfast!”

“Therefore, I must put myself in his position and devise a means of doing so. And having done that, I simply work out how to overpower myself!”

“If any one of my men moves round anything with his eyes shut I shall personally gouge them out! It’s time for a drink.”

“We drink Scotch here the way it should be drunk – neat!”

“Like plowmen at a bloody knitting convention.”

Or, when discovering that women are allowed on “these things,” ffolkes mutters, “A gigantic step backwards!”

Being the master strategist that he is, ffolkes big plan involves James Mason dropping cigarettes on the floor at a precise moment so he can shoot Tony Perkins with a spear gun. Oh, and on the subject of the spear gun – when ffolkes is explaining the spear gun to Admiral James Mason, he tells him that if you can shoot someone with the spear gun and not hit that person’s bone, the people will die quietly.

Or something. I don’t know. ffolkes just says things and I find myself going, “Yes, absolutely, of course your personal counter terrorism squad can shoot people with a spear gun without hitting bone. Of course.”

ffolkes’ plan to get aboard the Esther is foiled when Kramer decides, “I don’t like your face,” and sends him away. Perkins is pretty brilliant here, too. Just like Moore, the dude is totally committed to his performance and gets to say lines like this to Esther‘s captain: “I am the temporary captain of this tub and you’re going to be taking your orders from me for the time being. And the quicker you get that straight, the shorter that time is gonna be, so let’s just play patty-cake together and get this over with. Remember, luck favors the man with the most limpet mines and I’ve got a bundle of them.”

When the day has been saved, the Prime Minster throws a big ceremony for ffolkes at ffolkes’ estate and she tells him that she knows he doesn’t like medals, so she gives him three white cats: Esther, Jennifer, and Ruth. ffolkes’ response is to leave the party so he can give them saucers of warm milk.

That’s right – the Prime Minister’s message is: “Thanks for saving the country, Rufus Excalibur ffolkes, here are three cats.”

Honestly, with an ending like that, how can you not love this movie?

——

Mark Bousquet is the author of several novels, including Gunfighter Gothic, Stuffed Animals for Hire, Dreamer’s Syndrome, Harpsichord and the Wormhole Witches, and Adventures of the Five. He has also published a review collection entitle Marvel Comics on Film, which covers every cinematic and TV movie based on a superhero from the House of Ideas. A complete listing of all his work can be found at his Amazon author page.

20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA: The Fish That Got Away is Always the Biggest One

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954) – Adapted from the novel by Jules Verne; Directed by Richard Fleischer – Starring Kirk Douglas, James Mason, Peter Lorre, and Paul Lukas.

Much like his later film, Fantastic Voyage, Richard Fleischer’s 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA exists to be looked at more than it is to be experienced. Unlike Voyage, however, 20,000 LEAGUES manages to be a much more enjoyable film, thanks largely to the four principal actors, better sets, and a finer big action finish.

It’s kind of stunning when you realize that 20,000 LEAGUES was made over a decade before Voyage given how much better it looks. (Good on Walt for spending the cash.) Honestly, I didn’t check to see when the film was made until after it got going and I’m pretty stunned it was made in ’54. That is, I was pretty sure it had been made in the ’50s, but watching it had me wondering if it wasn’t made a decade or so later. Pop it into the DVD player and you’ll find that 20,000 LEAGUES is still a beautiful movie to watch, even if it is a bit too blue-obsessed. (Would it have killed them to have added a little color to the film’s palette?)

I still wouldn’t say 20,000 LEAGUES is a great movie, because it takes a bit too long to get going and then once Ned (Douglas), Professor Aronnax (Lukas), and Conseil (Lorre) get taken aboard Nemo’s (Mason) ship, the film just sort of happens for a bit without really going anywhere. There’s no driving sense of what the mission is or what the point is – there’s just some random set pieces strung together that are kinda entertaining on their own but don’t really serve a larger purpose.

Clearly, one of the appeals is supposed to, “Hey, look at all these underwater scenes we can film,” and that’s great and all, but watching anonymous people in deep-sea diving suits gets a bit boring – even if a shark shows up. None of the actions scenes before the big squid scene are really all that good (but neither are they really all that bad), and the film relies on the charisma of Kirk Douglas and James Mason for its success.

BTW, any movie that stars two of the greatest voices in movie history – James Mason and Peter Lorre – is going to get serious bonus points. Maybe not as many points as, I don’t know, Kate Beckinsale in a catsuit, but quite a few nonetheless because even if a scene has terrible dialogue, you still get to listen to Mason and Lorre enunciate.

James Mason is outstanding as Captain Nemo, but the film keeps him at a distance. The story as presented is caught between the main character (Professor Aronnax) and the main star (Kirk Douglas), but neither of them are as interesting as Nemo (or as good an actor as Mason). A film can have great success keeping the most interesting character at a distance, but while Aronnax is interested in figuring Nemo out, Ned Land is more interested in getting away than getting to know him.

If I was remaking this movie, I’d put Conceil (played here by Peter Lorre) at the center, since he’s caught between Aronnax and Ned and resides in the liminal space between the two positions. Conceil is fiercely loyal to the Professor (or, as Lorre intones beautifully, the ProFESSSSor) but as Aronnax becomes further drawn to Nemo, Conceil allies himself with Ned’s desire to get the crap off the Nautilus.

Full props to designer Harper Goff for the Nautilus, which looks like a steampunk spaceship more than a submersible. The ship manages to be both cool and functional, exotic and ordinary, wondrous and workmanlike. It’s a terrific design and every time the Nautilus is on the screen in a wide shot you see how alien it looks, and every time its on the screen in a close-up you see how real it is.

The big action scene near the end of the film sees a wounded Nautilus attacked by a giant squid. It’s an awesome scene but it just comes out of nowhere as yet another set piece. Back at the start of the movie, the ProFESSSSor is drawn into a government expedition to find a sea monster that’s been attacking ships in the Pacific. The sea monster turns out to be the Nautilus, of course, but then we get a real sea monster later in the movie that approximates (but not replicates) the images of the sea monster everyone was so worried about.

How about building to that? It wouldn’t have taken much effort to have a giant squid lurking in the background or have the Nautilus see evidence of some giant deep sea creature whose wrecked their sea farm. Instead, it’s played like:

1. Is there a sea monster?
2. No, there’s a Nautilus.
3. Wait an hour.
4. Hey, look, a sea monster!

It’s a shame because the sequence is fantastically rendered and would have been even better with some proper build-up. The sequence illustrates two important attributes of our characters. The first is that it gives a clear sign why the crew of the Nautilus is so loyal to Nemo, who joins in the defense of the ship, physically attacking the giant squid at close range. The second is that Ned Land is fiercely loyal to other seamen, even when it’s Nemo, who’s planning on having him put to death for insubordination. Also, Ned likes to kill big things that live in the sea. A harpooner by trade, Ned chucks a harpoon into the squid, getting it to leave the Nautilus alone, and then dives into the drink to drag Nemo back to safety.

There’s one more action sequence at the end that sees the military show up to claim Nemo’s home base of Volcania, but it might as well be stock footage of army men firing guns and an explosion in the distance. You need the sequence to give closure to the film, but it can’t compare to the squid attack so it’s a bit of a blah finish to an otherwise enjoyable film.