Le passager

The existing reviews for this are useful and I'd agree with pretty much everything that people are saying. As someone who finds Alistair MacLean books and films a guilty pleasure, the decision to film on location and work in a little-documented actual festival gives the film a certain atmospheric appeal. However the subsequent commitment to using this footage appeared to hamper the creative team's ability to tell a coherent story. The frequent use of cutaways and montage such as the bullfight with the killing of De Croyter's daughter, suggests that the availability of the documentary footage drove the film's structure and so effectively killed opportunities to create suspense with more carefully constructed shots. Perhaps more unfortunate is that the Director constructing the shots was the hapless Geoffrey Reeve who managed to increasingly mess up three MacLeans. In addition to Vaccares, he directed the flawed, though undoubtedly watchable, 'Puppet On A Chain', noting however that the memorable boat chase was shot by Don Sharp. Then after 'Vaccares' he helmed the appalling 'The Way to Dusty Death' which confirmed that he was totally out of his depth as a Director in the industry. Writer, Paul Wheeler should also carry some responsibility for the eventual cinematic carnage. Maybe Reeve's TV work was better but he and the writer really didn't haven't a clue how to build suspense and handle this sort of material and as a result, a decade of exciting Alistair MacLean branded entertainments started to lose credibility with audiences. Starting here.

It's a shame that such a lame plot should be hung on such picturesque locations, with some documentary style reportage shoved in for extra length. A shorter film may have held the tension a little more, and a more charismatic lead may not have mangled his lines so much. The female lead also, was not allowed to do enough resulting in a pretty but boring affair. It builds towards the end but the lead actor's own redemption is too little too late and should have been revealed earlier in the film. Not awful, just a pity. Unexciting but nice enough to grace TV schedules of the early hours.

Despite the fact that it has enough action. But the whole action is around the character "who has to get to the USA" (Zuger) and is repetitive from beginning to end. Something totally crazy, we will never know why Ferenc The Killer (Serge Marquand) had to shoot that man in the car in the first two minutes of the film. Charlotte Rampling is young and beautiful but her role is as if she is not even in the film. 3 very good actors, Françoise Brion, Marcel Bozzuffi and Michel Lonsdale, are wasted in a banal story with many flaws. Watch for Graham Hill, the great racing pilot, as the helicopter pilot at the end!

Of all the adaptations of books by Alistair MacLean, I feel that this qualifies as the worst, but don´t blame MacLean!. It would appear that all that this film shares with the novel is the same title. We have no suspense, no sense of foreboding of mystery, no chance to really empathize with the main characters. We spend the entire duration (or at least I did) waiting for Charlotte Rampling to shed her clothing (for Charlotte, this appears to take a remarkably long time!). Still, a glimpse of Charlotte Rampling´s tits really can´t save this disastrous film. MacLean has once again been kicked into the gutter to endure the sniping of those bitter hacks and nit-pickers who would appear to blame him for all the ills that befall attempted filming of his books. Poor old Alistair must have crawled into a corner and whimpered when this one came out. At least "Bear Island" - which also uses the Maclean name but apparently none of his novel - was a LITTLE exciting. The excitement here is in waiting for the final credits.

Charlotte Rampling must have been so bored with her character in this production that she went full tilt the next year after this picture was released into one of cinema's most confusing epics, 1975's "Zardoz," just for the challenge. Well, at least she got a good tan on location in this movie, and photographs here better than in any other film she has starred in. Alas, poor Charlotte appears to be so much smarter than the material she is given in this hamhanded cat-and-mouse yarn, shot entirely in the quaint environs of Provence, France. She smiles alot, and behind that grin she seems to be saying "Please call it a wrap so I can drive over to Marseilles for a wild night on the town."

Dullness doesn't translate to ineptitude however. The production values for this co-British/French effort are as high as those found on the other Alistair MacLean knock-offs of the '70s, like "Puppet on a Chain," "When Eight Bells Toll," and "Fear Is The Key." Like Barry Newman in "Fear Is The Key," actor David Birney gets to show his limited emotional range as the stalwart MacLean hero thrown into the middle of a deadly game of international policies and kidnapping. As a wandering American playboy, disenchanted with the Vietnam War and America, he stumbles into the schemes of the Duc, played with continental charm by the wonderfully droll Michael Lonsdale. Birney is coerced into protecting a Hungarian scientist who holds the secret formula to converting solar energy into economical power in his head. Shadowy hitmen, presumably hired by someone who wants that formula, follow their every move. Birney is occasionally forced to wipe his lackluster smirk from his face and perform some chop-socky moves on the villains.

Unlike the wartime MacLean novels like "Ice Station Zebra," "The Guns of Navarone," and "Where Eagles Dare," "Caravan To Vaccares" falls into the same trap as the majority of Alastair's later books displayed, that of simple chases, one curveball "twist," and a strong-chin, 2-dimensional hero always able to easily thwart the antagonists. The interesting tidbits to this picture come with the villains. Uncharacteristically (at least these days), this film's villains speak French, and yet their dialogue is not subtitled into English. Of course, you have no idea what they're saying if you don't parlez-vous, but in an interesting directorial choice, that's okay. Their actions and intensity translate their motives, and it's that decision to allow their every words to go unsubtitled that I applaud this element of the production. The producers knew their audience was intelligent enough to figure out what would be occurring on screen without spooning out translated dialogue. Thank you!

As for the principals, well, as mentioned, David Birney isn't the most convincing of badasses around. He exuded more testosterone when he got into a tiff with Meredith Baxter on "Bridget Loves Bernie." Charlotte Rampling is given very little to do but play the sexy, compliant companion who lets Birney make all the decisions. Her looks, however, betray this simplitude. She has the presence to suggest she could easily outmaneuver Birney on a speed-chess match. Which leaves us with Michael Lonsdale. Here, he exudes more confidence than his put-upon inspector in "The Day of the Jackal." He has a comfortable, wise delivery, a sly way of sizing up his minions and adversaries, that is a pleasure to watch. It is a shame Bond producers did not use him to the fullest extent when they cast him as super villain Hugo Drax in "Moonraker."

The plot neatly ties up most of its loose ends by the last reel, and you're rendered the satisfaction that David Birney didn't go on to reprise his role in any sequels. However, any movie that climaxes with him being attacked by rodeo clowns isn't all that bad. My rating: ** out of ****.