Tuono rosso

An extremely cute seventies American "action" film.

A Wealthy capitalist wants to get even richer by drilling oil from a recently charted area. He needs to buy the land cheap and hires a motorcycle gang to terrorize the locals into leaving town and selling their property. Local glider builder and radio dj start defending the town with their gliders and skycopters.

If there ever was a film based on a single contraption, this is it! The loosely assembled collection of cliches they called script aims at use of any material involving the self built little gliders that could be described as lawnmowers with wings. Anyhow, what redeems this picture is the wonderful 70's groove that penetrates this film on every level: characterization, costumes and discoing as a favorite pastime to name a few.

Not for the serious viewer, but great for appreciating the wonderful naivety of days gone by. In fact, if it weren't for all those gratuitous shots of titties, this one would be an excellent children's adventure film.

Released on video in Finland in the early eighties.

I saw this once on a very late Late Show when I was a teenager, and it was already culturally passé then. It reeked of the same vibe that gave us "The Dukes of Hazzard" and "Smokey and the Bandit" and all those other car chase shows. It used the music that we now know as the theme for Monday Night Football on its soundtrack too.

At that time in our History, we were in this weird state of frustration as a nation. Our leaders were either aloof or outright corrupt. Our economy was a shambles. We hated ourselves just as we were "supposed" to be loving ourselves, it being the Bicentennial. We were into cathartic nihilism. Which is what this movie attempted to deliver.

Anyway, this movie was predictable when it tried to be original, hokey when it tried to be cool, dull when it tried to be exciting, and showed every penny of its budget, which wasn't much.

Who needs to see falling bowling-pin bombs in slow motion, anyway?

At some point somebody should do a tally of all the 1970s pop culture fads in the USA that got at least one film made with it as the premise. Much like SUPERVAN, ROLLER BOOGIE, C.B. HUSTLERS, CONVOY and FRASIER THE SENSUOUS LION, here is yet another gloriously stupid movie built around some cultural fixation we had on something that now makes us sort of cringe with embarrassment. Instead of CB radios, roller derby or conversion vans, this time we get ultralight aircraft.

Specifically, ultra light aircraft nerds taking on a bunch of sadistic, creepy Heck's Angels bikers who look like out of work porn actors getting in a quick paycheck. They invade a small town at the behest of a mobster type boss who wants to scare everybody off and dig for oil. Their tactics include dumping milkshakes on people and stealing kids' ice cream cones, then blowing up cars and molesting drive-in burger stand waitresses. To these guys, nothing is sacred.

Good thing radio DJ Jimmy the Jet (or whatever he is called and who drives to and from work wearing a space suit left over from "The Six Million Dollar Man") and his nerd buddies are flying around in their ultralights. In what amusingly plays out as a parody of APOCALYPSE NOW they fly en-masse to the town and dive bomb the biker thugs with M80s. What is even more bizarre is that the film was made a year before APOCALYPSE NOW was released. Perhaps "Flight of the Valkerie" is just a popular song for helicopter assault sequences. Somebody ripped off somebody here.

Some camp value is to be found in the presence of BLACULA's William Marshall as the bigwig goon, Aldo Ray as the corrupt sheriff under his thumb, and "Gilligan's Island's" Russel Johnson as The Professor who concocts the areal bombardment's pyrotechnics. Beyond that the film really doesn't have much to offer those who were not into the whole ultralight aircraft craze, with the specter of John Denver hanging over the whole thing. Didn't people realize those things were dangerous? As another commentator points out, the film instantly reminds one of garbage like "The Dukes of Hazzard" with a heavy emphasis on staged car chases, things being blowed up real good, and guys who hang out shirtless together drinking beer. Later they pick up a couple of chicks and take them to a disco, proof positive that back then we had no idea that Freddy Mercury from Queen really was gay. Or at least a raging bisexual: One guy grins happily as his buddy scores with a fat bottomed girl by the campfire during a make-out scene, and you can't help but wonder where things may have gone in a more adventuresome film.

I'd say it's all in harmless fun but it's not: The film has some pretty mean spirited moments, especially when the heroic pilots start actually blowing up the bikers and killing them. Then it's back to the disco for some more boogie down dancing to the grooving stylistics of disco band Father, lead by none other that Steve Myland, to whom I can only assure readers that I am not related to in the least bit.

I guess the bottom line on the film is that if you are into the ultra light aircraft craze this is a must-see movie. Drugs will probably help anybody else.

4/10

Within mere minutes the first impression the movie makes is that it's extraordinarily bad at introducing characters - communicating who they are, or what they do or represent. Within the next several minutes it becomes equally clear that film editing, sound editing, and the sound design at large are all over the place, practically haphazard, and the picture is scarcely any better at exposition, plot development, scene writing, or dialogue than it is at doing anything with its characters. I'm not familiar with filmmaker Lawrence David Foldes, nor anyone else who contributed to the writing - save for Henry Edwards, whose only other credit as a screenwriter appears to be the bizarre, extreme mixed bag that was 1978's Beatles jukebox musical 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' None of this inspires confidence, and by the time fifteen minutes have elapsed, I'm led to deeply question my decision-making skills, for 'The great skycopter rescue' is quickly proving to be flummoxing, all but nonsensical, and inspiring skepticism more than entertainment. That impression does not substantially improve.

This is truly strange. James Courant's story comes across as a grab bag of ideas that he had at varying points and decided to throw all together in one tale, and the screenplay whipped up between Foldes, Edwards, and Tony Crechales doesn't particularly alter that notion. Every constituent part of the narrative seems like it's from something else entirely: the bikers, the eventual plot, the aircraft, each major character, and so on. I can't tell if the figure more or less set up as the protagonist, "Jimmy Jet," is the worst or best example. At various points he comes across as just another wacky whim of the writing, or possibly - and more smartly - a very reluctant and jaded protagonist, thrown into the course of events for no apparent reason. The latter tack would be kind of brilliant, but would require this to be sufficiently well composed in the first place to have given such thought to an FM radio DJ who wears a fake space suit and pretends to be from another planet because that's what the job requires (wait, what?), and who becomes embroiled in A Plot just because that's what The Movie requires. Instead, as the length advances interminably, it's evident that such a tack is entirely too witty for what the title represents.

This isn't downright terrible, and the news isn't all bad. Stunts, effects, and action sequences are mostly done well. There are suitable plot ideas in here, and small sparks of cleverness; again, Jimmy Jet could've been something cheeky and special depending on what way the feature went. It's weird and silly, but it could have also been earnestly enjoyable. "Could have been" doesn't sell tickets, however, and as it exists, 'The great skycopter rescue' is a great curiosity. Some scenes are frivolous, some are heavy-handed, some are flagrantly thin, some are perfectly sincere, some seem intended as parody, some are allowed to linger too long - and some are all of these things during the course of their duration, a sentiment that likewise applies to the effusive footage of "skycopters" in flight. (And if you're astonished at the song that is chosen to play over the climax, congratulations on having been born yesterday.) The acting follows the same slant, save for that some players (even Aldo Ray) comport themselves, and deliver their lines, so feebly that one could be forgiven for thinking they were total non-professionals just pulled off the street. William Marshall is the only point of consistency, but even at that I'm unsure if his overly dramatic performance is a superb choice for this mess or simply over the top. The best I can say for Foldes as director is that his contribution in that capacity was inconstant. The result of all this is a feature that's all but impossible to pin down, to the point that any value it does grasp at becomes mired in the end product.

There were many bits and pieces that could have been the saving grace of the picture. It could have been more genuine; alternatively, it could have fully leaned into the ridiculousness. Had it not approached the plot so weakly, loosely, and indifferently, or its writing broadly, a solid foundation might have seen it through otherwise tawdriness (also including, for the record, gratuitous nudity and needless homophobia in the dialogue). As it stands: I can't say I didn't have a good time watching, but I'm inclined to think that any amusement stemmed more from pure escapism, distracting me from a very bad day, than it did from actual quality. I'd rather outright hate a movie than be bored by it, and I wasn't bored by this, yet "like" surely isn't an appropriate word, either. This is so flimsy and uneven in every way that even forming a singular opinion becomes difficult. I appreciate the effort, and what 'The great skycopter rescue' had the potential to be; I also don't know who I could honestly recommend it to, except perhaps for those who are already truly receptive to all the wide, ludicrous possibilities cinema has to offer. Leave it for a lazy day when you're feeling especially curious, then just kick back and try not to laugh out of bewilderment.

Altho this movie will leave most people feeling rather empty, wishing they had spent the money elsewhere, there is some significant material contained in the movie.

The first, and perhaps the one redeeming item is that the primary stunt pilot in this movie was; 1.) A WOMAN (in 1980 that was VERY NEW), & 2.) This woman stunt pilot was also the FIRST WOMAN TO BECOME A CERTIFIED GYROPLANE INSTRUCTOR, IN THE UNITED STATES.!!!

Her name is Marion Springer. She is now in her 80's and still flying those crazy gyros. What a terrific lady.

It was my great pleasure to meet her not long ago, at a gyro meeting.

Blue skies and following winds to you all,

George Bass