Das Osterman-Weekend

"The Osterman Weekend" emits the feeling of a last gasp. What was an author's second novel later took this form of a director's last film. Sam Peckinpah was a good choice for directing, with film's like "The Wild Bunch" and "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" under his belt, Peckinpah wouldn't hesitate to show the grim world of betrayal and manipulation that Robert Ludlum showed through virtually everyone of his books. With spy films like the James Bond franchise being the most popular, this was the lesser seem side of that coin - the side that is less escapist adventure storytelling for boys.

However, the problems that Sam Peckinpah was going through at his last stages have noticeably affected the film. The intricate plot is there, but feels stitched together in parts, though that may very well be due the studio demanding re-editing work. The action is at times sloppy with very little of the mesmerizing details of Peckinpah's previous action sequences; a car crash even contains multiple repeats of the same angle and makes some disastrous continuity. The other action scenes are a notch or two better, but still far from what they could have been.

But, at least the plot and its many deceptions keep you guessing, right to the last shot. --- 6/10

BsCDb Classification: 13+ --- violence, sexual content

The Osterman Weekend (1983) was Sam Peckinpah's last film. Years of drug abuse (alcohol, pills etc..) took a devastating toll on the legendary film maker. Desperate for work, he took an uncredited second unit directing job with his buddy Don Siegal's swan song JINXED. He finally got the chance to direct a movie when he was given the job to try and adapt the complex and layered espionage spy thriller The Osterman Weekend. Not pleased with trying to bring to life a novel he really didn't care for, he did the job (albiet with mixed results).

Tanner (Rutger Hauer) is a talking head newsman. He has an eclectic group of friends (Chris Sarandon, Dennis Hopper and Crag T. Nelson). One day, Tanner is approached by a rogue C.I.A. named Fassett (John Hurt) agent to "keep an eye" on Osterman (Craig T, Nelson) because of his ties with certain "red" double agents. But Tanner knows Osterman and doesn't believe that he would be a traitor to his country. After a couple of attempts on his life, Tanner doesn't know who to trust. Is Osterman the traitor that Fassett claims to be? Who's telling the truth?

Not the way I wanted to see Sam Peckinpah end his career but hey, you play with the hand life deals you. People have complained about how confusing the movie is (have you read the book?). Considering with what he had to work with, I say that he did a fairly decent job.

Recommended for Sam Peckinpah fans.

Sam Peckinpah is one of my favorite directors. I'll always see him as a visionary maverick responsible for crafting some of the most enjoyable movies I've ever seen. His The Wild Bunch and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia are among my favorite films. His last film, The Osterman Weekend, is something of a mixed bag. On the positive side, it has several good action set pieces that are very reminiscent of the other films I've mentioned. Scenes of bullets and arrows flying through the air and a particularly brutal fight scene with a bat filmed in slow-motion remind me of Peckinpah's glory days. Unfortunately, there's a plot in there that gets in the way of the fun. I've seen The Osterman Weekend twice now and I'm as confused about some of the events in the movie as I was the first time I saw it. I don't know if it was just Peckinpah being stubborn, but it feels unnecessarily confusing. There are plot points that go nowhere, plot holes big enough to drive the proverbial truck through, and plot twists that don't work. After a good set-up, the movie simply loses its way. A script that didn't try so hard to be clever and secretive and some judicious editing might have made The Osterman Weekend a winner.

It's Sam Peckinpah's last film, and as a fan of this brilliant, troubled man, I wanted it to be a good one to go out on. What I got instead is another of his problem pictures, an interesting premise and eye-raising performances done in by a loss of focus.

John Tanner (Rutger Hauer) is a TV interviewer given an unpleasant assignment by CIA operative Lawrence Fassett (John Hurt): Confront a group of college friends with evidence they are working for a KGB operative named Mikalovich. An array of videotapes provided by Fassett demonstrates their culpability to Tanner. So he sets to work, his home the setting for a prearranged weekend gathering. If it works, a live interview with CIA Director Maxwell Danforth (Burt Lancaster) will be his reward.

For Peckinpah, it was his first film in more than half-a-decade, and a chance to show he was still able to deliver a solid action film well after his gritty early-'70s peak. The CIA comes equipped with cool surveillance equipment and laser-sighted automatics. The Weekend itself, once it gets going, has a nice "Big Chill" vibe with paranoid undertones.

So what goes wrong?

It starts with a 40-minute intro that establishes the premise in clunky fashion. "I'm Cloak, you must be Dagger" Tanner says upon meeting Danforth, whom Lancaster plays with brio but not subtlety. "Being wrong is not nearly as important as not admitting it, not these days," he tells one Company weasel, and acts throughout as the kind of clod you wouldn't put in charge of a shoe store, let alone the CIA.

Then we get to the Weekend itself, with Tanner's college friends taking center stage. Each has their quirks. Osterman (Craig T. Nelson) is a very cool TV producer who describes himself as "a nihilistic anarchist who lives on residuals". Nelson is great fun, though the rest of the group, including Dennis Hopper, gets lost in the mix. Only Helen Shaver's turn as a coked-out floozy stands out, as much for her gratuitous nude scenes as for her entertaining freak outs.

Sappy lite-jazz music by Lalo Schifrin underscores a lack of suspense. Hauer's Dutch accent keeps creeping in like Nastassja Kinski's, and his fragile relationship with his bow-toting wife (Meg Foster) isn't developed any more than those with his once-merry, now-sullen Berkeley chums.

The actual jigsaw puzzle we get here is indifferently assembled and seems at end a few pieces short. At one point Tanner hears Osterman on tape tell his friends "Let's go to our friend John Tanner's house and set him up". Tanner doesn't take this kindly, reasonably enough, yet what Osterman may have meant is never explained. A lot of threads are pulled out this way only to be left floating in the breeze.

John Coquillon's cinematography does capture something the rest of the film flails at, a sense of mystery and foreboding. Hurt's tortured performance as Fassett is nicely underplayed, watching beady-eyed between sips of wine from a china cup as the gears shift into play. And Nelson does crack me up, as in one scene which finds him running for cover.

"It'd be nice if we had weapons!"

"We do!" he is told. "Bows!"

"Bows?" Osterman replies. "That's keen!"

In the end, we get a wrap-up lecture about the pervading influence of television and how this all was, as one character puts it, "just another episode in this snuff soap opera we're all in." Peckinpah supposedly hated this script, only using it because he needed the film, but I think those sad words represent his actual mindset all-too-well. Distrait, somewhat lethargic, and depressing, "The Osterman Weekend" gives us lots of clues but no answers as to where Sam fell off.

John Tanner is a controversial journalist who makes it his business to hold truth to power on his television show, exposing government corruption wherever and whenever he can. As he is preparing for a weekend get together with three of his closest friends at his lavish California estate, Tanner is contacted by a CIA agent named Laurence Fassett. It transpires that Fassett and the agency believe Tanner's friends are part of a Soviet spy network, and they think he can get them to defect. As the weekend rolls on, suspicions become raised on all sides, and- as the lines between truth, fiction, loyalty and betrayal are irrevocably blurred- the question arises: just who is manipulating whom?

Directed by Sam Peckinpah and based on Robert Ludlum's novel of the same name, 'The Osterman Weekend' is a well-acted thriller that rises above its source material, though seems a sad swansong for such a visionary director. Screenwriters Ian Masters and Alan Sharp have injected some much-needed energy and cohesion into Ludlum's convoluted tale, transforming it into a parable about the power of television as a tool of propaganda, instead of the weak meditation on revenge and cold-war paranoia that it originally was.

Unlike in the book, Masters and Sharp use 'The Osterman Weekend' to explore how the media shapes narratives, changes meanings and influences opinions through editing and censorship. Through Tanner's program and the machinations of the CIA, they examine the idea that belief is generated through television- in other words, if people see it on TV, they believe it. While not a particularly profound or original notion, it lends the narrative more weight, as well as providing additional dramatic tension throughout.

This is not to say that 'The Osterman Weekend' should be lauded as a masterpiece, only that it asks more interesting questions than Ludlum's novel, and has a clearer message at its center. Masters and Sharp have not made Ludlum's awkward dialogue any more eloquent, nor has the inclusion of a new character and a new ending helped matters any. The story is still inherently flawed, and bad post-production and editing without Peckinpah's involvement means the finished product is a tad schizophrenic in terms of tone and content- though it is still inarguably easier to follow and more assured than its source material.

'The Osterman Weekend' reunites Peckinpah with cinematographer John Coquillon, whose talents the director had utilized for 'Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid' and 'Straw Dogs'. Coquillon does fine work that fits well within Peckinpah's oeuvre, featuring much of the director's trademark slow-motion violence. By incorporating CCTV footage from multiple monitors, Coquillon shows us different perspectives on events throughout, bolstering Tanner's paranoia and uncertainty about the reality of his situation. Odd angles and lighting are used to heighten this paranoia, though the overall visual aesthetic is one far less stylized than Peckinpah's 'The Wild Bunch', or Coquillon's work on 'Witchfinder General,' adding a sense of authenticity to proceedings.

Also contributing to the sense of paranoia and authenticity are the cast, many of whom deliver nuanced performances that keep audiences unsure of their motivations and loyalties. Rutger Hauer is charismatic and commanding as Tanner, showing a side of his personality he had not yet done through his villainous roles in Hollywood films. Craig T. Nelson does sterling work as Osterman, making him charming, yet morally mysterious. Dennis Hopper fades into the background somewhat, though has some good scenes with Helen Shaver, who is consistently excellent as his drugged-out wife, displaying much emotional perspicuity.

In his case, the great Burt Lancaster seems bored as the director of the CIA, apparently disliking Peckinpah's interpretation of the character and direction. For their parts, Chris Sarandon, Meg Foster and Cassie Yates are competent but generally underused. The real stand-out is John Hurt, who is spellbinding as Fassett, all but stealing the picture. Convincing, conniving and complex, Hurt transforms the one-note caricature of Ludlum's book into the most interesting character in the film, and it's a joy any time he's on screen.

Sam Peckinpah's last film, 'The Osterman Weekend' is far from his best work. Though it is well acted and features fine cinematography, the story leaves a lot to be desired, and post-production work without the involvement of the director leaves the finished product lacking consistency and coherence. Though its indictment of television as a mode of propaganda is still timely, it is not a particularly subtle or profound work in that regard. To conclude, though it has its moments, Bloody Sam deserved a better last hurrah than this.