Review of Walker (1987) by Kevin M — 29 Nov 2008

Aside from another intensely focused Ed Harris performance, there is absolutely no reason to see this pretentious failure of an anti-war movie. Every frame bursts with color, irreverence, or otherwise general insanity: things that would (in theory) suit a historical retelling of William Walker's bizarre conquest of Nicaragua and brief dictatorship. Just look up the dude on Wikipedia and you'll find a story dripping with potential. Were it not for Walker's exceedingly poor decision making skills, he could very well have established a stronghold aided by the colossal financial muscle of Cornelius Vanderbilt, and perhaps continued our horrible reign of brutal colonialism.

For the first 20 minutes or so, Alex Cox's "Walker" is a semi-entertaining experimental type of war picture like Godard's "Les Carabiniers", made watchable by liberal usage of slow motion and Clash guitarist Joe Strummer's ethereal score. Seeing Walker's men getting slaughtered by Mexicans to the tune of some laid-back jams that would not be out of place in some Carribbean style tiki lounge. The sight of Peter Boyle's ultra- vulgar Vanderbilt is wondrous to behold, for all two of his scenes. Even Marlee Matlin's stunt casting as Walker's girlfriend is overcome by the conviction that Ed Harris brings to his sign language. There is one unsubtitled monologue that he delivers with nothing but his hands and some seriously intense facial expressions, and the lack of subtitles is not a hindrance in any way. In battle, Walker is a blank slate, mindlessly marching in a straight line because that's all he knows how to do. And his team of "Immortals" will follow him to the ends of the Earth, or at least until a US Army Chinook helicopter comes to deus-ex them out of there before the house burns down in Act 3.

The anachronisms are cool the first time, like when you see some Nicaraguan diplomats reading about Walker's exploits in People and Newsweek in the back of their horse-drawn carriage, and then a Mercedes sedan cuts them off the road. Then they become relentless and annoying, as if Cox realized he had a brand new cinematic toy to play with and was determined to use it till it broke. And break it does, during that terrible deus ex (in the middle of a climactic "battle" so inept I became convinced Cox and crew spent their minimal budget entirely on peyote and wooden planks), and when he decides that the point hasn't been made, that he needs to show actual news footage of dead Nicaraguans, he shows not only contempt for the viewer but contempt for the dead. I can't think of anything more vile, so it is the final nail in Walker's coffin.

A high level of condescension and pretension is a bad combination. Cox cites Peckinpah and Bunuel as chief influences here, but there is neither the fiery passion nor the exquisite action choreography of the former, or the coherency, fatalistic wit, and class of the latter. Yes, Bunuel is always coherent in some way, since he was smart enough to give the audience a narrative through-line to hook them (or at least pull off a skillful con to similar effect), not to mention the off-the-wall weirdness and cutting satire always were anchored in truth. Cox is just another poser who doesn't truly understand surrealism and just throws his own shit at the wall and sees what sticks.