Les guerriers de l'enfer

Released in 1978 with the "bigger" Vietnam films (THE DEER HUNTER, COMING HOME), this is an under appreciated gem. Nick Nolte showed signs of becoming a solid leading man with his work here as action junkie Ray Hicks. The supporting cast in smaller, important roles bolsters a tight, moving film. Richard Mazur and Ray Sharkey are ultimate psychos and Charles Haid, as the weasel dope dealer are great. Like Karl Reiz's previous gem (THE GAMBLER), this film deserved to be bigger.

Criticised for it's amorality and drug use I personally can see Dog Soldiers as nothing else than an anti-drugs film. The heroin that caused such misery and death ends up in the sand by choice. Sickened and disillusioned after Nam, Converse, played brilliantly by Micheal Moriaty virtually blackmails his friend Ray Hicks into smuggling in some Heroin in a cynical what-the-hell gesture against the world. His wife is already hooked on prescription drugs and eventually goes on the heroin. He is out of his league and is forced by corrupt policemen to hunt down Hicks and his wife after they go on the run with the smack. Hicks is a violent man, recently turned on to Nietchze by Converse who considers Hicks a psychopath and is through "taking sh*t from inferior people", vowing destruction on anyone who takes him on. Falling in love with the girl Hick's reveals a surprising tenderness in looking after her. The Converses are seemingly indifferent to Hicks until they realise too late the unexpected Christian sacrifice he makes on their behalf although they wronged him and were unworthy of it.

Nolte, an actor allegedly as eccentric as his fictional character, gives a

multi-faceted and compelling performance as the alienated Hicks. The powerful ending and gesture by the man gives hope and suggests that ultimately friendship is the one true gift one can give to another outside the cynical buying and selling of people as represented by the heroin. Some uneven pacing is the only flaw in an adult, gripping, unusual and often witty American classic.

Nick Nolte is dead-solid perfect here as Vietnam-vet Marine Ray Hicks, the ultimate 70's zen anti-hero. It's shocking to see him so young and muscular after the sheer variety of roles and physical embodiments he has taken on since. Here he's tough, flawed, and jaded, a once-idealistic cynic who has gotten himself into a bad situation but whose instinct for survival takes over. One of his first lines in the film is, "Self defense is an art I cultivate.", and he doesn't let down. It's a Steve McQueen-cool kind of role, and Nolte's wonderfully cinematic throughout; whether it's smoking a cigarette, drinking a beer, cleaning a weapon, kicking bad-guy butt with some quick martial arts moves, or putting a supportive arm around Tuesday Weld.

The story comes from Robert Stone's National Book Award winning "Dog Soldiers" which is a better if less marketable title. The title refers to those mercenary soldiers who would hire on and die for someone else's cause as surely as if it was their own. Much of the dialogue comes verbatim from Stone's book, and it's rare that the translation is so perfectly realized as it is by director Karel Reisz and his actors. The characters seem to be saying these words for the first time in the situation they're in, and what's more, much of the dialogue is endlessly quotable. Nolte in particular builds a tough-guy philosophy throughout snarling lines like, "I'm tired of taking s**t from inferior people."

He's perfectly paired on the road from Oakland to New Mexico with Weld, in one of her best performances as Michael Moriarty's pill-popping wife. Also well-cast are Anthony Zerbe, Richard Masur, and Ray Sharkey, who add plenty of menace and dark humor as a trio of shady feds after the heroin Nolte has ill-advisedly brought back from Vietnam for one-time pal Moriarty. Also standing out is Charles Haid as a small-time Hollywood hustler Nolte tries to have move the heroin. Look fast for Wings Hauser in the opening scenes as a Marine jeep driver. The film's tone may be too violent and downbeat for some tastes, but it captures the feeling of cynicism and disillusion stateside during the Vietnam War in an appropriately harrowing manner.

The climactic shootout is ingeniously staged at night on a mountain commune with strobes flashing and Hank Snow/CCR music blaring. The final shots of the film are striking and memorable, particularly the stark image of a battered and worn but still not beaten Nolte marching along an endless set of railroad tracks in the New Mexico desert. It's only a shame Nolte didn't attempt a few more roles in this action vein while he was still young.

The film is available on DVD, though there are no extras. It would have been nice to have interviews, commentary, and deleted scenes (particularly the pivotal Nolte/Weld love scene, which was reportedly filmed but wound up being only implied in the final cut).

I saw this again on the TV a few days ago, and it reminded me of just how good it was. It's nothing special to look at, but the script is great and it's well acted. Nick Nolte is one of my favourite actors, and Richard Masur and Ray Sharkey make a wonderful pair of goons.

This is a small masterpiece and perhaps the best film to come out of the whole Vietnam War experience, perfectly reflecting the drug-addled, hyper-cynical and soulless days at the end of the 60's, when we all realized that it wasn't going to be alright.

If you like Nolte, you must see this. If you loath Nolte to the very depth of your being, you need to see it even more. His energy here would fill a dozen lesser films - only the remarkable supporting cast keeps him from single-handedly burning the movie down.

A huge number of American films from this period are massively overrated. Not this one.