As a director of music video clips, Russell Mulcahy is something of a living legend. Aside from directing the first video MTV ever aired (back when they did that sort of thing), he also helmed the clips for acts like The Rolling Stones, Elton John, Queen, Billy Joel, and a myriad of other artists. It may take a handful of film class periods to wholly examine his prolific work in the eighties.
As a film director, however, his work is much more difficult to digest. "Ricochet" and "Resident Evil: Extinction" are able actioners, but his only real classic is "Highlander". Needless to say, it's classic of the most cultish variety, which was probably inevitable considering lead Christopher Lambert is as wooden an actor as a totem pole. I won't even get into wild misfires like "The Shadow" or low budget television tripe like "The Curse of King Tut's Tomb". It's a tall order to get excited about a director that foists that sort of work on an unsuspecting public.
It was quite a surprise, then, to find that "The Real McCoy" stands among some of Mulcahy's best film work. The plotting follows a rather formulaic heist tale, which also requires serious suspension of disbelief on the part of the audience as we're supposed to believe Kim Basinger is some sort of master thief. Val Kilmer portrays an amiable yet inept robber while the great Terence Stamp is sadly wasted as the local crime boss. He's essentially playing the same role Ben Gazzara did in Road House, except Englishman Stamp was forced to adopt a horrific Southern American accent for his role.
Despite a predictable plot and somewhat dubious casting, "The Real McCoy" is an entirely enjoyable heist film in the same vein as The Score. Granted, neither are particularly memorable, yet they make for ample entertainment on a rainy afternoon. Highlights include Kilmer's singularly hilarious botched convenience store robbery and the intricate, if entirely implausible, bank heist at the climax of the film.
In summation, if you're able to believe Basinger as a world-class thief who handles with equal aplomb both air compressed second-story apparati and complex computer wizardry, you may enjoy this film. If you can accept that Terence Stamp is attempting to effect some kind of Southern American accent and has absolutely no room within the script to even pretend to act, you may enjoy this film. If you can stomach a vastly dated, ear-grating score that was composed almost entirely on a mid- eighties era synthesizer, you will almost certainly enjoy this film.
