Tuesday, July 4, 2023

Only now does it occur to me... SNIPER (1993)

Only now does it occur to me...  that SNIPER (1993) might be the live action movie with the most sequels (eight, and counting!) of which I had never before seen a single installment (discounting, perhaps, some Republic serials from the '40s or the deepest cuts from the Full Moon catalogue).
 
Instead of the dopey, straight-to-video-style shoot-em-up I expected, the tone is much more dignified and even has designs of being a moody and artistic "two in the chamber" piece about a morally grey veteran sniper (Tom Berenger––excellent, as usual) who has seen too much death, and his new, underprepared civilian partner.
 
It's about stolen valor, PTSD, indiscriminate killing, civilian blowback, Herzogian madness, and disastrous foreign policy. In essence, it's trying to be more APOCALYPSE NOW than RAMBO III––a point driven home by Berenger looking with disdain at a bus with a RAMBO III mural on it.
 
 
Does it live up to these lofty goals? Well, not exactly. But it's a hell of a lot better than you'd expect. The first five minutes alone are of higher quality than any scene in Clint Eastwood's laughable, fake-baby-wielding Oscar bait, AMERICAN SNIPER (2014).
 
The film's Peruvian director, Luis Llosa, makes a few off-handed critiques about covert CIA military obtrusions in Central and South America,
mostly by using J.T. Walsh as a glib politico-military operator named "Chester Van Damme" (!), but in the end, the film flattens a bit and sides fully with the snipers who are facing off against nuance-lacking, mustache-twirling Noriega and Escobar-style heavies. 
 
Slick and stylish cinematography by Bill Butler (JAWS, GREASE, ROCKY IV) and rousing music by Gary Chang (UNDER SIEGE, MIAMI BLUES) & Hans Zimmer (credited as "additional music by") make this seem much more like a prestige project than its budget and theatrical poster ("One shot... one kill... no exceptions") would imply.
 
To put it in context, it was semi-buried among January 1993 junk like BODY OF EVIDENCE and NOWHERE TO RUN, in a year whose box office headliners would be JURASSIC PARK, CLIFFHANGER, SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE, FREE WILLY, and THE FIRM.


But there's one element in particular which really takes this movie over the top. This element is an actor, the one playing Berenger's aforementioned and underprepared partner on this mission––an Olympic sharpshooter who has never been involved in a military operation. Someone whom the Toledo Blade might describe as a... "psycho hunk."


That's right––to my ama-Zane-ment, this movie features meaty roles for both Billy Zane and his  withering gaze. Before THE PHANTOM let us know there was no smoking in the Skull Cave, and before his expressive, Svengali-ish, and immaculately waxed eyebrows let us know who was really the "king of the world" in TITANIC, Billy Zane served bitch from the corridors of power in Washington, D.C.

"If looks could kill..."

to the jungles of Panama.
 

"...You'd be lyin' on the floor"

If you think we don't get an extended scene of Billy Zane carefully applying Max Factor camo makeup to the true stars of this movie, you've got another thing coming.

They must've blown their lace-front wig budget in the opening D.C. scenes, because for the rest of the movie it's all hats and Little Edie headscarves.

"Completely covert?"... except for that eyebrow action, maybe


"I'm scared to death of doors, locks, people roaming around in the background, under the trees, in the bushes, I'm absolutely terrified."  ––"Little Edie" Bouvier Beale in GREY GARDENS

Yep, Billy Zane gonna smolder all over this thing. There's an incredible scene when Tom Berenger calls him out for having designer camouflage called... wait for it...



..."Gucciflage." (What is this, the Berlusconi-produced, Zane-starring, spaghetti soap opera, MILLIONS?)

Anyway. Come for the sniper scope... stay for the Psycho Hunk™lookin' through it?


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