A sniper clandestinely jaunts around a city, randomly killing people and demanding that he be paid a ransom in order to stop. In response, a take-no-prisoners, rough-around-the-edges law enforcer steps up to take down the threat by any mans necessary.
Sound familiar? If you think I'm talking about Dirty Harry, you're right. I'm also talking about "The Ransom," which I myself saw under the title "Maniac!" and have also seen under "Assault on Paradise" and "The Town that Cried Terror!" (the distributors seemed unusually fond of their exclamation points). It was a trend in the 1970s and early 80s for hack directors to churn out low-grade knock-offs of successful, high-budget fare in attempts to cash in on the craze; we still see this phenomenon today with direct-to-video flicks that were tossed together in response to some pop-phenomenon (case in point, the direct-to-DVD "Snakes on a Train" and "Zombies on a Plane" made in apparently two weeks in order to prey on the interest generated by the "Snakes on a Plane" phenom). However, in the 70s/80s, these movies actually made it into the theaters, and more often than not they starred people that the audience actually recognized.
The movie is rather tame by 70s standards; there's really not that much blood to speak of, no nudity (that I can recall), and limited profanity. In a year that saw some of the nastiest of the exploitation nasties hit the screen, "Maniac!" is notable for being more silly than sleazy. Even if it had been produced independent of "Dirty Harry," the script, on its own merits, is one massive exercise in corniness. Start off with the fact that the sniper here is a disgruntled former competitive swimmer named Victor who has a bone to pick with the United States because of Vietnam-- I think. His motives are never really addressed in the movie itself, and are left to be explained by the film's closing song, an obscure Byrds number. To show his solidarity with the disenfranchised, Victor dresses up like a Native American and talks in pseudo-mystic metaphors; oh yeah, and instead of using bullets, he kills his victims with a jacked-up crossbow. He's apparently also got an accomplice who dies halfway through the movie in what's supposed to be some kind of mid-film twist, but it's so poorly executed and messy that it's not really clear what's going on. I got the impression that it was supposed to be the narrative equivalent of Harry finding out that he has to let the Scorpio Killer go free halfway through "Dirty Harry." Even as I write this I'm not certain if there was really another guy or not, and if so, who the hell he was and where the hell he came from.
In order to bring Victor down, the townsfolk retain the services of Nick McCormick (Oliver Reed), a rough-and-tumble detective who's so macho that he can make a woman willingly go to bed with him by pulling a gun on her, holding it at crotch level and telling her it's loaded (Reed's "ladykiller" scenes come across as parodies of the misogyny rife in 1950s lad culture; I'd call it clever satire if I weren't so sure that it was unintentional). The movie never really explains where Nick came from; we're just supposed to presume that all corrupt land barons read "Soldier of Fortune" magazine and are familiar with its want-ads.
Judging by his performance, Reed didn't seem to particularly care where he was going to end up after this. It's often hard to tell whether or not he's sober; there's parts of the movie where it becomes almost impossible to focus on the plot, as Reed's blatant drunkenness takes center stage. Most of his dialogue is delivered in a tooth-clenched growl that is either Reed acting very poorly while sober or very good while intoxicated. He's also inexplicably on the verge of breaking out into a body-drenching sweat in several sequences, even when men of comparable weight and wearing similar clothing have visibly dry skin, another indicator that the sauce was driving his performance just as much as any actor's motivation. Nevertheless, given the material, Reed actually does a pretty decent job. Hammered or not, taken tongue-in-cheek, Reed's fun to watch here.
The movie unfolds sloppily, with mediocre action sequences mixed in with bad subplots about corrupt businessmen and promiscuous TV reporters. There are some car chases, a fairly tense cat-and-mouse sequence involving aforementioned corrupt businessman and Victor, and eventually a kind of boring mountaintop climax that employs the ridiculous cliché of the bad guys killing one another off and allowing the hero to walk off into the sunset with clean hands. The action sequences are actually the highlight of the movie, as whatever money could have been spent on a competent writer and sober actors was apparently dumped into the film's rather impressive location shoots and cinematography. Much of the action takes place in the mountains of Phoenix, AR, and the camera crew was at least adept enough to give us some incredible eye candy.
It's hard to tell while watching it if it ended the careers of everyone involved, or if they all knew that they had reached the end of the line and intentionally chose this project out of either desperation or as a means of career suicide. The director, Richard Compton, had a minor success a few years prior with "Macon County Line," a western-exploitation film; after this, he spent the remainder of his career directing episodes of TV series. Granted, some of them are top-notch--his "Star Trek: The Next Generation" effort, "Haven," is a highlight of that series' first season. Still, it seems to be a step down to go from writing and directing your own movies to hopping around different TV series.
If you're looking for cheap entertainment and happen to find this, either on VHS or bootlegged on DVD, pick it up; it's worth an afternoon.
Sound familiar? If you think I'm talking about Dirty Harry, you're right. I'm also talking about "The Ransom," which I myself saw under the title "Maniac!" and have also seen under "Assault on Paradise" and "The Town that Cried Terror!" (the distributors seemed unusually fond of their exclamation points). It was a trend in the 1970s and early 80s for hack directors to churn out low-grade knock-offs of successful, high-budget fare in attempts to cash in on the craze; we still see this phenomenon today with direct-to-video flicks that were tossed together in response to some pop-phenomenon (case in point, the direct-to-DVD "Snakes on a Train" and "Zombies on a Plane" made in apparently two weeks in order to prey on the interest generated by the "Snakes on a Plane" phenom). However, in the 70s/80s, these movies actually made it into the theaters, and more often than not they starred people that the audience actually recognized.
The movie is rather tame by 70s standards; there's really not that much blood to speak of, no nudity (that I can recall), and limited profanity. In a year that saw some of the nastiest of the exploitation nasties hit the screen, "Maniac!" is notable for being more silly than sleazy. Even if it had been produced independent of "Dirty Harry," the script, on its own merits, is one massive exercise in corniness. Start off with the fact that the sniper here is a disgruntled former competitive swimmer named Victor who has a bone to pick with the United States because of Vietnam-- I think. His motives are never really addressed in the movie itself, and are left to be explained by the film's closing song, an obscure Byrds number. To show his solidarity with the disenfranchised, Victor dresses up like a Native American and talks in pseudo-mystic metaphors; oh yeah, and instead of using bullets, he kills his victims with a jacked-up crossbow. He's apparently also got an accomplice who dies halfway through the movie in what's supposed to be some kind of mid-film twist, but it's so poorly executed and messy that it's not really clear what's going on. I got the impression that it was supposed to be the narrative equivalent of Harry finding out that he has to let the Scorpio Killer go free halfway through "Dirty Harry." Even as I write this I'm not certain if there was really another guy or not, and if so, who the hell he was and where the hell he came from.
In order to bring Victor down, the townsfolk retain the services of Nick McCormick (Oliver Reed), a rough-and-tumble detective who's so macho that he can make a woman willingly go to bed with him by pulling a gun on her, holding it at crotch level and telling her it's loaded (Reed's "ladykiller" scenes come across as parodies of the misogyny rife in 1950s lad culture; I'd call it clever satire if I weren't so sure that it was unintentional). The movie never really explains where Nick came from; we're just supposed to presume that all corrupt land barons read "Soldier of Fortune" magazine and are familiar with its want-ads.
Judging by his performance, Reed didn't seem to particularly care where he was going to end up after this. It's often hard to tell whether or not he's sober; there's parts of the movie where it becomes almost impossible to focus on the plot, as Reed's blatant drunkenness takes center stage. Most of his dialogue is delivered in a tooth-clenched growl that is either Reed acting very poorly while sober or very good while intoxicated. He's also inexplicably on the verge of breaking out into a body-drenching sweat in several sequences, even when men of comparable weight and wearing similar clothing have visibly dry skin, another indicator that the sauce was driving his performance just as much as any actor's motivation. Nevertheless, given the material, Reed actually does a pretty decent job. Hammered or not, taken tongue-in-cheek, Reed's fun to watch here.
The movie unfolds sloppily, with mediocre action sequences mixed in with bad subplots about corrupt businessmen and promiscuous TV reporters. There are some car chases, a fairly tense cat-and-mouse sequence involving aforementioned corrupt businessman and Victor, and eventually a kind of boring mountaintop climax that employs the ridiculous cliché of the bad guys killing one another off and allowing the hero to walk off into the sunset with clean hands. The action sequences are actually the highlight of the movie, as whatever money could have been spent on a competent writer and sober actors was apparently dumped into the film's rather impressive location shoots and cinematography. Much of the action takes place in the mountains of Phoenix, AR, and the camera crew was at least adept enough to give us some incredible eye candy.
It's hard to tell while watching it if it ended the careers of everyone involved, or if they all knew that they had reached the end of the line and intentionally chose this project out of either desperation or as a means of career suicide. The director, Richard Compton, had a minor success a few years prior with "Macon County Line," a western-exploitation film; after this, he spent the remainder of his career directing episodes of TV series. Granted, some of them are top-notch--his "Star Trek: The Next Generation" effort, "Haven," is a highlight of that series' first season. Still, it seems to be a step down to go from writing and directing your own movies to hopping around different TV series.
If you're looking for cheap entertainment and happen to find this, either on VHS or bootlegged on DVD, pick it up; it's worth an afternoon.