5 Forgotten '80s War Movies That Still Hold Up Today
by Jeremy Smith · /FilmTerence Mann had it all wrong in "Field of Dreams." The one constant through all the years has been war, not baseball. Whether it's a righteous calling or a foolhardy feat of guts-and-glory bravado, too many people cherish an excuse to slaughter their perceived enemies by the bushel. They need to see the lights go out in the eyes of their perceived enemies (either that or watch city blocks blaze from thousands of feet in the air). And if this cruel avenue is unavailable to them, they'll settle for shedding blood vicariously through dynamically staged combat in motion pictures.
War movies have long been great business for filmmakers the world over. Viscerally, the appeal is, in part, wish fulfillment. Moviegoers want to see battlefield heroism written with big screen lightning. They want to see decisive, triumphant ends to messy conflicts. War is hell, yes, but it's worth it — and it's one helluva proving ground for young patriots.
The U.S. public's sentiment changed in the 1970s as the Vietnam War dragged aimlessly on, with countless (mostly working class) draftees getting spent as cannon fodder. As we entered the 1980s, the movies got harder, bloodier, and less sentimental. Though Francois Truffaut maintained, "Every film about war ends up being pro-war," it was hard to see Peter Weir's "Gallipoli," Samuel Fuller's "The Big Red One," and, dear god, Elem Klimov's "Come and See" as recruitment movies.
To be sure, the 1980s were full of ultra-violent, jingoistic combat shlock. "Rambo: First Blood Part II," "Red Dawn," and the domestic terrorism fantasy of "Invasion U.S.A." imagined U.S. military might as being undeniable. But the Vietnam War run of "Platoon," "Full Metal Jacket," and "Casualties of War" promised a reckoning. These five films found an ambiguous middle ground.
Hamburger Hill
When I began making this list, I shortlisted John Irvin's 1980 film "The Dogs of War," a rip-roarer starring Christopher Walken as a mercenary hired to service rapacious war capitalists in war-torn Central Africa. It's a very good, bracingly unsentimental movie, but Irvin aced a much more grinding assignment later in the decade when he directed the likes of Don Cheadle in "Hamburger Hill."
Irvin's film is probably the least forgotten movie of this bunch, but once you've watched it, you'll gasp that it isn't one of the most celebrated war movies of its era. Unfortunately, a kind of Vietnam movie malaise had set by the time "Hamburger Hill" stormed into theaters on August 28, 1987. "Platoon" had won the Best Picture Oscar five months earlier, while "Full Metal Jacket" was still in its first-run release. Paramount didn't dump the film, but their plan to open on 800 screens and build off critical momentum was doomed because, alas, "Hamburger Hill" looked like a "Platoon" retread.
The other major issue was the film's small scope. Set in 1969, it depicts the taking of Hill 937, a literally uphill task that grows more Sisyphean with each incremental surge. The Viet Cong hold the high ground and relentlessly chew up the U.S. soldiers hurtled into this battle of bloody inches. Irvin keeps the intensity ratcheted up, but he manages to find time for his ensemble cast to bond amidst the ceaseless barrage. You'll see lots of fresh, familiar faces in this mix alongside Cheadle, including Dylan McDermott, Courtney B. Vance, Michael Patrick Boatman, and Steven Weber. Irvin also makes brilliant use of a mesmerizing score from Philip Glass, who's very much in his life-out-of-balance milieu. The film will leave you drained, heartbroken, and furious at the pointless human suffering on display.
The Beast
Movies "hold up" over time in different ways. Sometimes, their subject matter has lost none of its relevance, while other times, they seem shockingly prescient. And then there are movies that will just always work. Kevin Reynolds' "The Beast" ticks all of these boxes in sometimes problematic ways. Its premise is nifty: In 1981, a Russian tank division decimates an Afghanistan village. As they leave the area, one tank takes a wrong turn. This errant war machine is commanded by the ruthless Daskal (George Dzunda), who reacts to their predicament by executing Afghan crew member Samad (Erick Avari) and strapping the horrified Koverchenko (Jason Patric) to a rock with a grenade nestled behind his head. When Koverchenko survives, he encounters and makes common cause with a group of mujahideen soldiers from the destroyed village: together, they set out to hunt down and destroy Daskal's tank.
"The Beast" was a commercial flop upon its release in 1988, but I'll take it over Reynolds' big-budget epics ("Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" and "Waterworld") any day. The man knows how to shoot a landscape and stage a suspenseful action set piece (the ingenuity of our heroic hunters is endlessly fascinating). He also gets superb performances from Patric, Dzunda, and Don Harvey (playing essentially the Soviet version of his character from "Casualties of War") and Steven Bauer (though it's a tad dicey to have a Cuban actor playing a Pashtun soldier). Meanwhile, a war film set against a conflict that finds a superpower stuck in a quagmire is particularly resonant today. Daskal and the majority of his Russian charges view the Afghanis as less than human. Historically, we know how this played out. As for the film, track it down and treat yourself to a criminally forgotten classic.
Under Fire
If I told you the incident on which Roger Spottiswoode's "Under Fire" is based, it would spoil a shocking twist that kicks this already engrossing political thriller set against the 1979 fall of Anastasio Somoza's regime in Nicaragua up into the realm of a four-star war film. If you're not familiar with this turbulent history, dive into the sordid details after you've watched the movie.
And why wouldn't you want to dive right into a film about danger-skirting journalists in a war zone that stars Nick Nolte, Gene Hackman, Joanna Cassidy, Ed Harris, and the great Jean-Louis Trintignant as a French spy? Nolte stars as a photojournalist looking to snap a valuable photograph of the mysterious rebel leader Rafael. Like the best of his breed, Nolte's photog is fearless, rushing into firefights to document ongoing conflict in far-flung locales to bring the reality of armed conflict, and the politics surrounding them, to news consumers the world over. As often happens in these high-pressure, life-or-death situations, romantic entanglements tend to get incestuous. Colleagues sleep with colleagues, which, in Nolte's case, leads him to have an affair with Cassidy, who happens to be the girlfriend of Hackman's foreign correspondent (and soon to be network anchor). Armed with a script credited to Clayton Frohman and Ron Shelton (who can't help but work in a very funny baseball reference), Spottiswoode keeps his 1983 picture moving all the way up to its stunning conclusion.
84C MoPic
A decade before "The Blair Witch Project" kicked off the found footage trend, Patrick Seane Duncan's film "84C MoPic" (aka. "84 Charlie MoPic") used the format to harrowing effect as a dramatized document of a Reconnaissance team heading deep into enemy territory during the Vietnam War. In form and particularly content, it feels like Duncan (who would go on to write "Courage Under Fire" and Mr. Holland's Opus") was inspired by Ruggero Deodato's "Cannibal Holocaust." The violence, when it occurs, is jarringly realistic, leading to an unbearably tense finale where the team's covert balancing act goes spinning out of control.
Duncan shot the film on a very low budget with a 16mm camera, and, like many found footage movies, this gives him leeway to be a little messy with his compositions as the cameraman contends with the unpredictable movements of the team (which includes a couple of familiar faces in Richard Brooks and Glenn Morshower). But unlike many found footage directors, Duncan isn't after gimmicky suspense. As a Vietnam veteran himself, he's determined to immerse viewers in the mundanity of warfare, which, again, can be broken up at any second. He also makes us privy to the dangers of recon operations, where literally one false step could trigger a booby trap. (The team's excursion becomes especially fraught with danger when they discover there's a North Vietnamese group tracking their movements.) Even smoking a cigarette can give away their position. "84C Mopic" received mostly good reviews, but it was a difficult sell in 1989. 37 years later, it's ripe for rediscovery.
Off Limits
The Vietnam War was a hot topic for Hollywood in the late 1980s, which meant studios were scrambling to find new perspectives on the conflict for a healthy box office payoff. Christopher Crowe had just the thing for 20th Century Fox in 1988 when he wrote and directed "Off Limits," a thriller starring Willem Dafoe and Gregory Hines as officers stationed in Saigon as part of the joint services Criminal Investigation Division. They're on the hunt for a serial killer in an area of the city that is, you guessed it, off limits to U.S. military personnel. They're certain their suspect is a high ranking officer, too, which, of course, rankles the top brass.
"Off Limits" is formulaic at times, but it's got some nifty twists up its sleeve and one helluva supporting cast that includes Scott Glenn, Fred Ward, Amanda Pays, Keith David, and David Allen Grier. Mixed reviews and perhaps a touch of Vietnam film fatigue caused it to flop commercially, but it's held up incredibly well thanks to the chemistry between Dafoe and Hines, and, most importantly, Crowe's assured direction. The movie opens with a haunting scene scored to The Left Banke's "Pretty Ballerina," a spot-on needle-drop cue that lets us know we're in the hands of a filmmaker who's not going to play the greatest hits of the Vietnam era. Crowe is also adept at action (there's a great foot chase through some tight quarters in Saigon) and generating suspense. He only directed one more film (the forgettable "Whispers in the Dark"), but he clearly had the stuff based on this one flick. It's a gritty thriller that deserves a lot more love. It's certainly not the kind of movie you expect from the creator of "B.J. and the Bear."