EASTERN CONDORS (1987), dir. Sammo Hung Kam-Bo

A dirty, not-quite-dozen goes behind enemy lines in “Eastern Condors,” an action/war movie about Chinese ex-convicts recruited for an impossible mission. Directed by Sammo Hung Kam-Bo, this Hong Kong production has more in common with the aerobic martial arts films of Jackie Chan than “The Deer Hunter,” but despite being more entertainment than message movie, the entertaining parts really shine.

The plot: U.S. military brass assigns Lt. Col. Lam (Ching-Ying Lam) the task of destroying deadly weapons left behind in Vietnam. In order to infiltrate the country more effectively, his team consists of Chinese immigrants, incarcerated men who take the job in exchange for early release and money. These hard-luck types run the gamut between old and young, brave and timid, and although most of their personalities are painted with broad strokes, the camera seems to gravitate naturally towards Shawn (Kam-Bo), whose noble features contrast his 30-year sentence for killing a policeman.

Like a lot of Hong Kong movies, “Eastern Condors” mixes action and comedy, but the overall tone is fairly serious, even with the occasional touches of wackiness thrown in. There are lapses in logic now and then, such as a team member dying because he has a stutter, and it takes him too long counting to 20 before opening his parachute. In another scene, Lam’s commanding officer tells him, “Don’t do anything heroic. Get home safe.” A moment later, however, the same C.O. asks if he can look up his long-lost brother, a soldier who wasn’t able to escape Vietnam with his unit. This raises the question: Isn’t risking your life to find someone presumed dead heroic, not to mention dangerous?

Luckily, the missing soldier’s nephew (Yuen Biao) turns out to be both an expert smuggler as well as a formidable martial artist who knows the terrain. Meanwhile, woman warriors, a familiar Hong Kong action trope, also feature prominently, this time as three freedom fighters every bit as tough as the men. They may even be tougher: in one grisly scene, a guerilla who has been stabbed and had her hand sliced off still manages to take her assailant down with her.

Kam-Bo, who was a stuntman before becoming a successful movie star and fight choreographer, does a good job directing, too, capturing mayhem at interesting angles and using slow-motion when things get impressively hairy. Sometimes the action gets a little too elaborate: in one of many scenes spent engaging Vietcong troops bent on killing the unit, Biao dives down from trees with vines wrapped around his waist, which seems like an awful lot of effort to take out enemies one-at-a-time. Nevertheless, the film’s breakneck pace and sheer innovativeness ensure things never get boring; expect daring escapes from jungle prisons, explosions, hand-to-hand combat of all sorts, even a scene where leaves are turned into projectile weapons.

Interestingly, “Eastern Condors” is ostensibly about Chinese emigrants to the U.S., and as such, the movie can be viewed as reflecting what Hong Kong thinks its brethren’s relationship with their adopted country is like, in all its potential complexity. There are moments with definite subtext: for example, the look of discomfort on the Lt. Col.’s face when the prison warden tells him he should take 100 Chinese convicts, not just the ten he wants, because he’ll “just lock up more.” Later, when one character is faced with the possibility of dying in Vietnam, he resignedly says, “At least I’ll die in the East.”

With regards to the film’s depiction of the Vietcong, it helps to keep things in perspective, and remember that “Eastern Condors” represents the prejudices of a specific nation with its own baggage about that country. However, any critics of “The Deer Hunter” will likely be offended by certain scenes involving Vietcong child-soldiers, and the appearance of a fey-looking general who alternates between high-pitched giggling and single-word screams is curious. At least that main heavy kicks ass, and the movie ends on a suitably sardonic commentary about the Chinese’s love-hate relationship with America.

When there’s no Army helicopter in sight to effect a rescue, one protagonist starts cursing, “F*cking America, goddamn America.” When Shawn asks him where he’s going to go after leaving Vietnam, his answer is, of course, “Back to America.”

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

DEAL OF THE CENTURY (1983), dir. William Friedkin

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I was under the impression that good, effective satire meant a sly wit and a straight face. “Deal of the Century,” unfortunately, lacks both of those qualities. The movie’s tone is too broad, and the screenwriter practically hits the audience over the head trying to hammer his message home. This likely represented the low point for director William Friedkin, who took the prestige earned from films like "The French Connection" and “The Exorcist,” and spends 100 minutes firing blanks.

“Deal of the Century” centers around efforts to sell the Peacemaker, a remote control drone manufactured by a company called Look-Up. Their CEO believes the pilot-less plane will revolutionize air combat; unfortunately, following a botched demonstration, Look-Up has to try selling the Peacemaker outside the U.S. Enter Eddie Muntz (Chevy Chase), a small-time arms dealer who improbably closed the deal on a contract for the plane with General Cordosa (William Marquez), only to have the South American dictator renege since Muntz wasn’t authorized to make the sale.

It turns out the general will be in Los Angeles for an upcoming arms convention, presenting an opportunity to secure the deal and, for Muntz, earn himself a hefty commission. Complicating matters, however, is Ray (Gregory Hines), his business partner and a foremost aeronautics expert, recently found Jesus and wants out. Another problem is Catherine (Sigourney Weaver), the widow of the original salesman whose death paved the way for Muntz. They meet in South America, but it isn’t long afterward that she’s back in his life, pointing a pistol at his head and accusing him of killing her husband.

Catherine wants part of Muntz’ cut, and proves willing to do whatever it takes to get it. A lot of money does hang in the balance, but director Friedkin and screenwriter Paul Brickman ask, “Is it moral to sell people what they don’t need, especially if it leads to innocent people getting hurt?” Muntz and Ray are portrayed as everyman-types who need the cash to keep their modest weapons-building operation afloat. “If we don’t make the sale, someone else will,” Muntz rationalizes. But aside from these two entrepreneurs and dreamers, America’s weapons industry is mostly portrayed as a means by which large corporations profit from developing nations, or as a big joke, and herein the film’s weakness lies.

Once upon a time, Stanley Kubrick cut a pie-fighting sequence from “Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb” because he and the screenwriter agreed it took the satirical film too far into slapstick. “Deal of the Century” is not nearly as disciplined: it tries hard to be outrageous, and in doing so, loses any resemblance of tonal consistency. There is a scene in South America where a pistol-packing hood jumps Muntz, but after the latter whips out an AK-47, he not only relieves the would-be robber of his gun, he takes his wallet, too. Although one could interpret this sequence as illustrating how the arms industry has pushed inhabitants of Third World nations into desperation, the way it ends on a bullying note neutralizes its initial humor.

Likewise, when Look-Up’s super-plane malfunctions due to computers overheating, the real criticism – that an aeronautics firm spends billions on the plane, but recycles cheap air conditioners to keep its vital parts cool – gets lost amidst endless shots of eggheads in their underwear and sped-up footage of bystanders fleeing. Again, the movie can’t settle on a tone. Finally, there is a running gag about Muntz getting shot in the same foot repeatedly, which isn’t really funny in the first place, and has the secondary problem of bad timing, turning a serious scene into what feels like a laboriously-long improv where Chase whines about getting blood on his carpet.

The filmmakers also forget many people actually think weapons are cool. One would think effective satire about America’s predilection for guns and ammo should, if anything, be extraordinarily pro-weapon, which is not what we get, save for a sequence in which Ray cuts loose with a flame-thrower (against, strangely enough, the film’s repeat target: Hispanics). Early on, Muntz demonstrates a tape recorder that can turn into a miniature machine gun, a device that’s effective, but not cool-looking. Meanwhile, Muntz and Ray may be ordinary Joes the viewer can relate to, but their business looks conspicuously two-bit; their garage makes being in the death instruments industry seem downright unglamorous.

Still, the coup de grace might be the Peacemaker itself, a missile-packing, black-skinned thingamajig that isn’t the least bit compelling visually, and is aided by effects that look dated compared to “Star Wars,” which came out six years earlier. For all of “Deal of the Century’s” pontificating, going so far as to juxtapose President Reagan’s speeches on Russia’s missile superiority over the U.S.’ with shots of an arms convention that looks an awful lot like a car show – thereby implying weapons are really luxury goods, not necessities as the president would have us believe – given the sheer ineptitude at just being reasonably entertaining, it’s the film that’s the real rip-off.

Overall rating: * (out of ****)