The Stunt Man (1980) – through the looking glass …

Review by Jack Kost.

Sam! Rewrite the opening reel! Crush the little bastard in the first act!

– Peter O'Toole, as Eli Cross.

I love movies, so a movie that also involves the movie-making process in the plot, is a definite draw.

The Stunt Man (1980) was directed by Richard Rush, released in the United States on June 27, 1980, and adapted from the novel of the same title, by Paul Brodeur, published in 1970.

The story is a combination of genres: action, drama, crime, and offbeat comedy.

Cameron (Steve Railsback), is a wanted man, a fugitive on the run from the police and FBI, for a crime that remains unspecified until later in the story.

Narrowly evading capture at a roadside diner, he stumbles onto a movie set, where a World War I battle scene is being filmed on the beach.

He merges with the crowd, as we hear an excerpt from Dusty Springfield’s song Bits and Pieces, tipping us off that the fugitive and viewer are now “in a world where nothing is what it seems”.

Cameron’s next attempt to put distance between himself and the pursuing law results in the death of the movie stuntman, Burt (Michael Railsback).

As Cameron runs again, he’s seen by the movie director, Eli Cross (Peter O’Toole), hovering next to the bridge in his chopper.

Burt’s death puts them both in a dangerous situation: if the police discover Burt’s death, they will close down the movie set and Eli will be arrested.

Cameron will also be caught.

They strike up an uneasy pact: Eli will provide Cameron refuge and sanctuary within the movie set, so long as Cameron takes Burt’s place as the stunt man.

Cameron accepts because he has no other choice.

Local police chief, Jake (Alex Rocco), is hanging around constantly looking for Eli to make a slip.

Cameron has an intimate relationship with Nina Franklin (Barbara Hershey), the lead actress on the movie.

There is a revealing moment to the almost surreal atmosphere and collective make-believe mindset of the world Cameron finds himself embroiled in.

As he carries Nina out of the water, and she makes believe that she is being rescued, Cameron remarks that it’s just like in the movies.

Nina replies: “I am the movies.”

The romance between Cameron and Nina sparks jealousy in Eli; he was once in a brief relationship with Nina, adding more tension to the suspicion he and Cameron have for each other.

There are several impressive set pieces to this movie.

In particular Cameron’s first stunt involving a jump between two high buildings.

Not a job for anyone suffering from vertigo.

The stunt includes a rooftop chase and a fall into an enemy occupied brothel.

Stunt men run, tumble over each other, and fall from the roof, in a long and skillfully filmed scene achieved in a pre-CGI age.

Cameron got more than he bargained for.

Already feeling trapped and afraid that his cover will be blown, Cameron’s paranoia is compounded with fear that the director may be psychotic, unconcerned about safety, and will stop at nothing to get his movie completed – even if it means Cameron will also die during a perilous stunt.

Or maybe it’s Eli’s way of getting rid of Cameron, so he could have a second chance of being with Nina.

Cameron refuses to divulge what his crime is, and Eli uses this during an argument with Nina, when he expresses remorse about losing her:

“Jesus Christ, woman! Can’t you see the man is reeking with blood?!”

Steve Railsback is effectively nervous and twitchy as Cameron, a fish out of water, feeling cornered and paranoid.

It’s easy to empathize and share his bewilderment, as the stunts he performs become increasingly dangerous.

There are moments that surprise the viewer as much as they do Cameron, as stunts are replayed from a different angle, revealing the cameras and crew, and the movie-effects tricks.

But this is easily Peter O’Toole’s movie.

In a role that seems written specifically for him, he commands every scene, just as his character, Eli Cross, commands the movie set.

The best lines are reserved for Eli, as he uses his fast-talking skills of persuasion on Cameron:

“Did you not know that King Kong the first was just three-foot-six-inches tall?

He only came up to Fay Wray’s belly button.

If God could do the tricks that we can do, He’d be a happy man!”

Eli is tyrannical, grandiose, and hilarious.

He can be comical and cruel, particularly in his manipulation of Nina, using an embarrassing incident during the showing of dailies to evoke a genuine reaction of shame he can capture in a scene.

Dominic Carmen Frontiere’s music score is both majestic and light-hearted, adding a fun and at times epic feel to the events.

The scene with Eli Cross arriving on set, stepping off the chopper, makes him seem like a giant walking the earth.

In Eli’s mind, as the director, he is a giant among men, and the movie set is his world, a realm he rules, with everyone there to follow and serve as he commands.

When not hovering over them in his chopper, he’s above them on his camera crane, or standing on bridges, a king overseeing his kingdom.

The director as dictator, or maybe even a demon – as the poster art suggests:

The stunts and action scenes are impressive.

The script, by Lawrence B. Marcus, is intelligent and humorous.

The uneasy partnership between Cameron and Cross is well developed, with smart and funny interchanges between Eli and his crew, particularly his lead actor, Raymond Bailey (Adam Roarke), assistant, Ace (Philip Bruns), hair stylist, Denise (Sharon Farrell) and long-suffering writer, Sam (Allen Garfield).

On a trivia note: the clip of the final stunt, when the Duesenberg car hits the water, was included in the opening credit montage of the TV show, The Fall Guy (1981-86), starring Lee Majors.

Keep watching after the end credits roll, to hear Eli Cross’ final hilarious declaration.

Among my other “movies about making movies” favorites are:

Hooper (1978), Blow Out (1981), The Hard Way (1991), Ed Wood (1994), Adaptation (2002), and The Disaster Artist (2017).

I also recommend director Richard Rush’s earlier hilariously off-beat action comedy: Freebie and the Bean (1974), starring James Caan, Alan Arkin, Loretta Swit, Valerie Harper, Alex Rocco, Mike Kellin, and Paul Koslo.

One of the best in the cop buddy movie genre.

Similarly, Freebie and the Bean didn’t do well on its release, but has since gained much-deserved admiration.

The Stunt Man is a movie within a movie, a story within a story, fiction within fiction.

Superbly shot, entertaining and unforgettable.

A multi-layered story that improves with repeat viewings, and a must-see for any movie-buff who, like me, loves movies.

Eli Cross perfectly sums up the movie world to Cameron and the viewer, as if Eli is both director and usher, standing outside the cinema auditorium, beckoning us all into his world:

“That door is the looking glass … and inside it is Wonderland.”

The Ninth Configuration (1979) – one selfless act:

The Ninth Configuration

The Ninth Configuration (1979) – one selfless act.

Review by Jack Kost.

Every kind thought is the hope of the world.

– Ed Flanders, as Colonel Fell.

Many times, over the years, people have asked me the same question about The Ninth Configuration:

“What’s it like?”

My response is always the same: incomparable.

There’s no other movie to compare it to.

It’s set in an asylum, but it’s nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

It’s the author’s official sequel to The Exorcist, exploring the themes of faith, suffering, good and evil, but it’s not a horror movie.

The Ninth Configuration was directed, written, and produced by William Peter Blatty.

He based the script on his own novel: Twinkle, Twinkle, "Killer" Kane, originally published in 1966.

This story is the second in Blatty’s “trilogy of faith”, an indirect sequel to The Exorcist, with the novel Legion as the third part.

The astronaut from the house party scene in The Exorcist, ominously warned by the possessed girl: “You’ll die up there!”, is Cutshaw in The Ninth Configuration.

The Ninth Configuration opens on a melancholic tone, as Captain Billy Cutshaw (Scott Wilson) sits by a gothic castle window, watches a torrential rainstorm outside, and listens to a song on a cassette player.

The song San Antone, performed by Denny Brooks, written by Barry De Vorzon, plays on the soundtrack as we move from Cutshaw in his room, to the castle grounds, surrounding area, and armed sentries braving the weather in hooded ponchos at the castle gate.

The song ends, Cutshaw stops the cassette, and sadly lowers his head.

The opening titles play over a striking nightmare sequence: a countdown to a moonshot is abruptly aborted as the moon looms up behind the rocket and launch pad.

Psychiatrist, Colonel Fell (Ed Flanders) informs us in voice-over narrative, that it’s sometime in the ‘70s, towards the end of the Vietnam war.

The castle is in a secluded, unspecified location, shrouded in mist, set somewhere in the Pacific Northwest.

The building is being used as a military asylum.

The castle shown in the movie is the Burg Eltz Castle.

It overlooks the Moselle River, between Koblenz and Trier, in Germany.

After the sad opening scene and the surprising dream credit sequence, there’s a genre switch again to comedy, as we’re introduced to the castle residents:

Lieutenant Frankie Reno (Jason Miller) is adapting Shakespeare’s plays, with dogs in the roles.

He has a problem with Hamlet.

Lieutenant Spinell (Joe Spinell) is Reno’s casting director.

Major Nammack (Moses Gunn) believes he’s Superman.

Captain Fairbanks (George DiCenzo) has multiple personalities.

One believes he can walk through walls.

He smashes a hole in one wall to punish the atoms after he takes a running bash and fails, miserably, to pass through.

Another of his personalities is a sword-carrying nun who exorcises a Cola vending machine.

Lieutenant Bennish (Robert Loggia) believes he has been abducted to the planet Venus, is enraged that his flying belt has been confiscated, and promises not to use it to escape.

Lieutenant Gomez (Alejandro Rey) is a painter, complaining there’s no color in the air.

Lieutenant Fromme (William Peter Blatty) believes he is the real psychiatrist and steals Colonel Fell’s jacket, pants, and stethoscope at every opportunity.

Major Groper (Neville Brand) attempts, in vain, to maintain discipline among the lunatics.

Sergeants Krebs (Tom Atkins) and Christian (Stephen Powers) patrol the castle and grounds, overseeing everything.

The humor works.

Before William Peter Blatty wrote his landmark 1971 horror novel: The Exorcist, he was a comedy screenwriter.

The patients, even though they say and do crazy shit, are all highly intelligent, some near-genius, and highly decorated for their combat service.

It seems unlikely that these men would be faking insanity to avoid combat, but suspicion still hangs over them.

Cutshaw is the odd man out: an astronaut who aborted his mission to fly to the moon, during the final countdown.

The question is why?

Cutshaw wasn’t in combat.

Why would he fake insanity?

To get to the core of the men’s problems, and to ascertain if their PTSD is real and they are on the level, a new psychiatrist arrives at the facility.

The comedy then shifts into drama.

Colonel Kane (Stacy Keach) is unconventional in his methods.

Temperate and stoic, no matter how much the inmates try to provoke him.

But there’s something else going on with Kane.

In his quiet moments, he suffers flashbacks.

Something’s there in his mind, deep in the rain-drenched jungle he envisions.

We see two of Kane’s dreams.

The first is a brief glimpse of three crosses in a cloudscape, bathed in light, possibly a vision of Heaven.

In the second dream, Cutshaw is walking on the surface of the moon, the lunar landing craft in the background.

Cutshaw places the American flag, then turns and raises his arms.

The camera draws back and we see Christ (played by Stacy Keach) on the cross.

As this scene plays out, we hear Kane, in voice-over, give an argument proving the existence of God:

 “In order for life to have appeared spontaneously on earth, there first had to be hundreds of millions of protein molecules of the ninth configuration. But given the size of the planet Earth, do you know how long it would take for just one of these protein molecules to appear entirely by chance? Roughly ten to the two hundred and forty-third power – billions of years. And I find that far, far more fantastic than simply believing in a God.”

This monologue was inspired by the studies of Dr. Pierre Lecomte du Noüy, a French biophysicist, philosopher, theologian, and author.

An agnostic who converted to Christianity.

In his book Human Destiny, published in 1947, he describes through his telefinalist hypothesis, and study of the chirality of amino acids in a protein, that life and evolution could not have happened simply by chance; God is the driving force for everything.

Science tells us how things work.

Only God and faith can provide the meaning behind the mystery of life.

A battle of wills ensues between Cutshaw the patient and Kane the psychiatrist.

After disrupting a church mass, Cutshaw asks Kane:

 “If you die first, in this life after death, will you give me a sign?”

Kane says yes.

Cutshaw dismisses it.

He meant the request as a mocking taunt, but Kane keeps his word.

They meet and debate the mystery of faith, reason for suffering, existence of God, nature of good and evil.

Kane argues that if evil exists in the world, so does goodness.

Proof of which is the existence of love, the selflessness of man, altruistic acts, that one person will sacrifice their own life in order to save another.

Cutshaw’s challenge to Kane is to give just one personal example of genuine altruistic self-sacrifice to back up his argument.

Tensions lead to a violent confrontation in a bar, involving Kane, Cutshaw, and a motorcycle gang led by Stanley (Steve Sandor) and Richard (Richard Lynch).

This movie is also notable as being the first to use the Howie Scream stock sound effect, in the moment when knife-wielding biker, Stanley, attacks Kane.

Like many movies, The Ninth Configuration, was poorly received on its release and widely criticized over the years.

I believe in credit where it’s due: Blatty helmed the entire project and achieved a memorable mind-trip, with a genre mix of comedy, drama, war story, tragedy and theological thriller.

You have to go into this movie with patience and an open mind.

Be sure to see the version labelled as the Definitive Cut; there have been several versions released over the years, differing in running time and with key scenes missing.

The Definitive Cut is the best version, with the inclusion of the prologue sequence, with the song San Antone playing, other scenes throughout, and a clearer ending.

I’ve always found watching The Ninth Configuration an entertaining and rewarding experience.

Stunning visuals.

Atmospheric setting.

Brilliant and, at times, hilariously written script.

All played out with an excellent ensemble cast that clearly had a blast making this movie.

I first saw it as a video store VHS rental in the early ‘80s.

I’ve seen it many times since then, and it is now part of my movie collection.

So many movies just follow a predictable format.

The Ninth Configuration dares to be a very different movie, in so many ways.

With understanding of the author and director’s vision, we can appreciate the achievement of everyone involved.

With so many layers to the story, a funny and quotable script, serious themes, effective plot twist, and an ending that is profound and genuinely moving, this is one of the most original and ambitious movies I’ve ever seen.

The Ninth Configuration was originally released in the United States on February 29, 1980.

A leap year.

Take a leap of faith and take the time to watch this surreal, thought-provoking, and underrated classic.