‘The Wild Geese’ or — Team UK: World Police?

(Spoilers)

“This is even more fucked up than I remember!”, I thought to myself as I revisited ‘The Wild Geese’ (1978) after 35 odd years or so last night. It’s a hunk of cheese so pungent its flavours almost defy identification — “Is that lazy homophobia and racism I’m detecting here or a form of cack-handed progressivism? Is this cynical exploitation and machismo or a clever and vicious left-leaning satire? Is the action I’m seeing exciting or leaden… or both?” It was a baffling experience that was hard to digest which could explain why it feels like I’m still picking bits of Richard Harris out from between my teeth this morning.

The story is quintessentially British — the UK government and banking system protects their business interests by hiring a group of British military trained mercenaries to go over to Africa and kill everyone. It’s a tradition we honed with our years of Imperialism, refined with the SAS and ultimately privatised when we realised selling arms and providing mercenaries was the only thing we were good at; it’s one of the reasons why Britain, along with the U.S., is one of the biggest terrorists states in history. So you see, Margaret Thatcher’s son, Mark, was simply being a good British citizen when he was convicted for helping stage a coup to topple Equatorial Guinea.

All in all it’s a nasty, sordid and seedy business meaning ‘The Wild Geese’ is also a nasty, sordid and seedy movie. “Why has lovable Roger Moore just shot a man in the head and is now force feeding another heroin?” I asked myself as a kid. This is because nobody in the movie is, in any way, likable let alone lovable.

For example, I use to feel sorry for Richard Harris when he died at the end before he could reach the plane, but not this time. Why? Because his plan for the mission is to incapacitate the soldiers guarding Julius Limbani (the deposed African president they’re to rescue) by killing them all in their sleep using cyanide gas, so not only did I not shed a tear this time at his demise but would’ve cheered if someone had shot him stone dead the moment he announced his plan to begin with. I had conflicting feelings.

But then again ‘The Wild Geese’ is a movie filled with conflictions and contradictions. Take the example of Kenneth Griffith’s medic Arthur Witty, a walking gay stereotype. Yet he’s also fully part of the team and never really ridiculed so the move to include him could feel oddly progressive (okay, I’m REALLY reaching here). Either that or he’s nothing more than a cheap gag coated in flimsy character writing.

Then there’s the political and racial elements which can seem distasteful until you realise that, if viewed in a certain way, ‘The Wild Geese’ could be viewed as a devastating critique of British militarism, racism, colonialism and why we’re one of the most murderous states in the world. In fact, ‘The Wild Geese’ almost works better as a biting satire than an action movie. The problem is I’m not sure which one it’s trying to be.

I think this problem could be down to the directing which is somewhat clunky, often sacrificing thematic nuance for the body count. This could be why the second unit directing and especially the editing, both by James Bond editor and future Bond director John Glen, appear to be what’s really powering the movie and giving it some pep. Just notice the scene when Burton’s Colonel Faulkner is poured a drink during his meeting with Sir Edward; Glen edits it almost like an action scene.

And the action, in general, is decent enough (it certainly has more panache than the politics) with the silent attack on the compound tense and effective and there’s a quite impressive sequence where the group are attacked on a bridge by a plane that’s not only suitably explosive but has some nice shots of the aircraft circling in the sky ready for another run (Glen might like to keep the editing snappy but he also knows when to allow brief moments to take in what we’re seeing). This, along with a decently engaging story, makes ‘The Wild Geese’ a surprisingly fun watch.

This might be my biggest conflict with the movie as despite all the distasteful crassness, macho posturing, unremitting violence, drunken decrepitude and unbridled offensiveness on display (or I suspect, because of) I ended up having a total blast with the flick.

This might be best illustrated by Jack Watson’s retired Sergeant Major Sandy Young who, once he gets back into drilling the men, gets to shout out some spectacularly offensive vulgarities and insults that had my jaw dropping and hitting my floor so hard and fast it crashed through my downstairs neighbour’s ceiling below. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I wasn’t also laughing my ass off, too.

To be fair, this contradiction in ‘The Wild Geese’ shouldn’t be a complete surprise as the script (which does contain some nicely bitter lines) was written by Reginald Rose, a socially driven writer who wrote the screenplay for ‘Twelve Angry Men’ (1957), yet he also wrote the screenplay for the utterly crass and distasteful ‘Who Dares Wins’ (1982) which caused controversy for portraying CND as a terrorist organisation. Go figure, indeed.

‘The Wild Geese’ is a bizarre, strange, unsettling but also entertaining movie that is representative of the confused and troubled mental state of a nation that spent most of its existence murdering, plundering and exploiting the African continent. No wonder Burton’s performance is so full of spite and contempt.

Either that or the drink had just run out.