And You Thought COVID-19 Was Bad? (Pt. 1)

In 1944, in an attempt to bolster a British morale deflated by hardship both home and abroad, Sir Lawrence Olivier co-adapted, directed and starred in Shakespeare’s Henry V, a bit of altruism (narcissism?) that not only went over big with critics and the general public, but also garnered him a special Academy Award. Mission accomplished!

Sadly, despite being a narcissist himself (not to mention an integral part of the “card chorus” in his 8th grade production of Alice in Wonderland), the CFS is no Olivier. Rather than emote, my method to stiffen upper lips involves typing, the arrows in my quiver the written word.

For the next three days I will launch these deadly projectiles in an attempt to puncture that sack of anxiety you carry yoke-like around your neck in this time of biological uncertainty.

So, without further ado, let’s examine some deadly cinematic pandemics, ones that make Coronavirus look like a runny nose. (It’s not, of course, it’s fricking terrible, but for the purposes of these posts please give me a little latitude.)

Of course, it would be easy to write about something obvious, like Steven Soderbergh’s fine bat/pig virus thriller Contagion (2011). Or perhaps Terry Gilliam’s time travel/deadly virus sci-fi film 12 Monkeys (1995). Or even Wolfgang Petersen’s pretty middling Ebola-inspired film, Outbreak (1995), which was supposed to be based on Richard Preston’s fine non-fiction book, The Hot Zone, but then morphed into something quite different and, frankly, dumb, under the weight (ego) of A-List stars (Robert Redford, Jodie Foster, who left the project, and, later, Dustin Hoffman).

But that’s not how the CFS operates. Like a truffle pig, he digs a little deeper for more obscure and valuable quarry. Which is why I offer up the follow three thrillers, all of which are worth your attention as you “shelter in place.” (Actually, two of them aren’t worth the cocktail napkin in which you spit your gum before dinner, but what the heck—we all got time to burn!)

The Cassandra Crossing (1976; Dir. George Pan Cosmatos)

Quick Synopsis—When three terrorists attempt to blow up an International Health Organization (now WHO) laboratory in Geneva, two are killed in a fight fire. The third, however, escapes, but not before being drenched in a liquified form of a deadly strain of influenza, something the Americans may or may not have been cooking up in the lab as a potential biological weapon.

Enter Colonel Stephen Mackenzie (Burt Lancaster) and Elena Stradner (Ingrid Thulin), the former representing the U.S government in the matter, the latter an IHO doctor who’s unwittingly draw into the proceedings.

Terrorist #3 stumbles his way onto a train about to leave for Stockholm and proceeds to touch every goddamn thing in sight, including the chubby cheek of a newborn. As luck and box office would have it, he’s joined by an all-star cast of (prospective) dead meat, including Sophia Loren, Richard Harris, Ava Gardner, Martin Sheen, Lee Strasberg and, last but not least, Mr. O. J. Simpson, playing an INTERPOL agent traveling undercover as a priest(!).

When Mackenzie and Stradner learn that the infected man is aboard the train, they clash over the best way to prevent a pandemic. Stradner simply wants it to pull over and remove/isolate the terrorist. Mackenzie, on the other hand, realizing that a) no country will allow the mobile biohazard to stop within its borders, b) fearing the other 999 passengers are already infected and c) knowing deep down that a movie about a train pulling into a station to debark a single passenger couldn’t possibly justify its explosive tagline (“The Trans-European Express with its deadly secret is racing to the point of no return!”), decides the train will be redirected to an old Nazi concentration camp in Poland where the entire manifest can be quarantined. The one itty-bitty problem: to reach the camp the train must travel across an abandoned, rickety old bridge known as The Cassandra Crossing! (Emphasis and punctuation added by author.)

Of course, when the train passengers learn of the dubious survivability of their new itinerary, they decide to mutiny.

CFS $0.02—Whereas the mid-70s were chockfull of some big-budget, all-star-cast, not-too-bad disaster epics (The Poseidon AdventureThe Towering Inferno; etc.), it was also a period of low-brow knockoffs (The Swarm; Irwin Allen’s Flood!; Irwin Allen’s Fire!), more “Movie of the Week” quality than true cinema spectacle.

Alas, The Cassandra Crossing, despite an intriguing premise and cast unafraid to masticate the scenery, falls squarely in the latter category. Hobbled by uneven performances, stilted dialogue, special effects on par with what I could’ve accomplished in my basement with a Lionel, an Erector set and a Super 8 camera, the film basically stinks.

That said, those brave enough to dedicate two hours (it’s available for free on Youtube and you have time to kill!) will marvel at how Martin Sheen, so good in Apocalypse Now (filmed about the same time) could turn in what amounts to a community theater performance as a heroin dealer/addict with a heart of gold.

Even better, you’ll get to hear O.J. utter this immortal line: “Now gentlemen, better one day late in Paris than 20 years early in heaven.”

Want to see a good movie about a train? Check out The Train. Which, ironically, also features Mr. Burt Lancaster. An all-time classic.

Here’s the trailer:

Coming tomorrow: The Andromeda Strain!

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