A simple war film starts with a montage of scenes of suffering Africa, complete with song by Joan Armatrading. A gloriously politically incorrect film is stating its liberal credentials.
We cut to Richard Burton playing a drunk, probably the only role he was capable of by this stage. He, of course, despite this, is an 'expert, and commands the undying loyalty of all who know him.
Richard Harris is an expert too, in 'planning'. He has an embarrassingly precocious son whom he loves dearly - oh, dear, that's a bad portent. Incredibly, he also has a bleeding heart, persuaded to join the mission only because its purpose is to save the only decent African leader on the continent. However, his liberalism doesn't prevent him planning the deaths of hundreds of men by cyanide poisoning. There is even a token black mercenary, reassured by Harris' presence that he is not being asked to do anything unworthy.
Hardy Kruger is there too, as an Afrikaaner who has to move rapidly from dislike of 'Kaffirs' to such respect for this deposed President that he is willing to die for him. His changing mode of address from 'Kaffir' to 'Man' to 'Bloke' is as nauseating as Harris' son's shouting 'Yahoo' when exulting over his planned skiing holiday. (It doesn't happen obviously).
Roger Moore's available to play a down-at-heel James Bond, alternately stuffing heroin down gangsters' throats and charming airheaded women. 'Isn't he a dear?', says one. Who wrote this stuff? Believe it or not, Reginald Rose, famous for Twelve Angry Men and Man of the West.
The rest of the commandos must be the most middle-aged bunch of war dogs ever recruited. Jack Watson, the devoted Sergeant-Major, providing the routine tough training programme. Ronald Fraser and Percy Herbert left over from World War II, and another hammy performance from Kenneth Griffith.
Various superannuated British actors play duplicitous, shadowy characters from business and government. For the mercenaries, you see, are naive, well-meaning pawns in a murky, capitalist game.
It's a derivative, hypocritical, meretricious film, which allows a good cast to go through lazy motions instead of acting. It leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.
So why do I watch it so often? Why do I enjoy every minute of the bloody thing?
We cut to Richard Burton playing a drunk, probably the only role he was capable of by this stage. He, of course, despite this, is an 'expert, and commands the undying loyalty of all who know him.
Richard Harris is an expert too, in 'planning'. He has an embarrassingly precocious son whom he loves dearly - oh, dear, that's a bad portent. Incredibly, he also has a bleeding heart, persuaded to join the mission only because its purpose is to save the only decent African leader on the continent. However, his liberalism doesn't prevent him planning the deaths of hundreds of men by cyanide poisoning. There is even a token black mercenary, reassured by Harris' presence that he is not being asked to do anything unworthy.
Hardy Kruger is there too, as an Afrikaaner who has to move rapidly from dislike of 'Kaffirs' to such respect for this deposed President that he is willing to die for him. His changing mode of address from 'Kaffir' to 'Man' to 'Bloke' is as nauseating as Harris' son's shouting 'Yahoo' when exulting over his planned skiing holiday. (It doesn't happen obviously).
Roger Moore's available to play a down-at-heel James Bond, alternately stuffing heroin down gangsters' throats and charming airheaded women. 'Isn't he a dear?', says one. Who wrote this stuff? Believe it or not, Reginald Rose, famous for Twelve Angry Men and Man of the West.
The rest of the commandos must be the most middle-aged bunch of war dogs ever recruited. Jack Watson, the devoted Sergeant-Major, providing the routine tough training programme. Ronald Fraser and Percy Herbert left over from World War II, and another hammy performance from Kenneth Griffith.
Various superannuated British actors play duplicitous, shadowy characters from business and government. For the mercenaries, you see, are naive, well-meaning pawns in a murky, capitalist game.
It's a derivative, hypocritical, meretricious film, which allows a good cast to go through lazy motions instead of acting. It leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.
So why do I watch it so often? Why do I enjoy every minute of the bloody thing?