It's an enjoyably tense television movie. Written by Frderick Forsythe, it has little action in it but a good deal of suspense. Forsythe has the peculiar characteristic of being able to invest small details with interest, especially technical details and complicated identity scams. This, being a TV movie, is going to lack much in the way of that talent and concentrates instead on simple intrigues and mysteries, some of which are left unexplained. People come and go, lying to and cheating one another, but it's not high drama and it's not witty.
The MacGuffin here is some formula for a super antibiotic, as if we didn't have enough antibiotics. It winds up by accident in Rod Taylor's hands and the head honcho of the biggest, most villainous corporation you ever heard of wants it back. That accident, by the way, involves a light airplane crashing directly into Taylor's cottage on the Kerry coast and killing his wife and two children. It's made clear at the opening that Taylor is an ex Green Beret but that plays little part in the narrative until the ridiculous ending.
It may be one of Taylor's best performances, TV movie or not. He's aged, like a good wine. No longer the confident, tanned young hero of "The Birds", he's now a little puffy and from some angles looks uncannily like Robin Williams. By the time of "Welcome to Woop Woop," he was a goggle-eyed caricature of his former handsome self but it didn't bother him and it was a viewer's delight.
Joanna Petit has held up well. In fact -- pretty well indeed. Her role, though, is a stereotype, the ambitious female reporter. Didn't Dirty Harry get saddled with one of them somewhere along the line of sequels? The script is functional but lacks poetry. The location shooting in Ireland is just fine and County Kerry is just as I remember it -- rainy, with "sun breaks." At the climax, the film implodes. Characters change their personalities for reasons of the utmost stupidity. Here's the grim villain who does the wet work, combing the grassy wind-swept hills, looking to kill Taylor who is hiding somewhere among the brush. This dedicated assassin has always been a cool customer, dressed in black, silent, full of self control.
But now he must cold cock one of his partners in a fit of pique, which is stupid. Then, unable to determine Taylor's hiding place in the grassy hills and the furze bushes, he whirls around wildly, firing his pistol in all directions until he's out of ammunition. He runs until he's exhausted. Taylor corners him and the villain drops to his knees, sobbing and begging for mercy. Right.
There is one gem of a performance in the movie. Cyril Cusack's police detective. The role, like that of the reporter, the head honcho and his goons, is a cliché. Cusack shows up once in a while to politely inform Taylor to keep his nose out of police business, forget about revenge, and let the cops do their jobs. But Cusack turns his appearances into something that brightens the whole show. He was equally good in another Forsythe story, "The Day of the Jackal." Not the revolting remake, but the original.
The MacGuffin here is some formula for a super antibiotic, as if we didn't have enough antibiotics. It winds up by accident in Rod Taylor's hands and the head honcho of the biggest, most villainous corporation you ever heard of wants it back. That accident, by the way, involves a light airplane crashing directly into Taylor's cottage on the Kerry coast and killing his wife and two children. It's made clear at the opening that Taylor is an ex Green Beret but that plays little part in the narrative until the ridiculous ending.
It may be one of Taylor's best performances, TV movie or not. He's aged, like a good wine. No longer the confident, tanned young hero of "The Birds", he's now a little puffy and from some angles looks uncannily like Robin Williams. By the time of "Welcome to Woop Woop," he was a goggle-eyed caricature of his former handsome self but it didn't bother him and it was a viewer's delight.
Joanna Petit has held up well. In fact -- pretty well indeed. Her role, though, is a stereotype, the ambitious female reporter. Didn't Dirty Harry get saddled with one of them somewhere along the line of sequels? The script is functional but lacks poetry. The location shooting in Ireland is just fine and County Kerry is just as I remember it -- rainy, with "sun breaks." At the climax, the film implodes. Characters change their personalities for reasons of the utmost stupidity. Here's the grim villain who does the wet work, combing the grassy wind-swept hills, looking to kill Taylor who is hiding somewhere among the brush. This dedicated assassin has always been a cool customer, dressed in black, silent, full of self control.
But now he must cold cock one of his partners in a fit of pique, which is stupid. Then, unable to determine Taylor's hiding place in the grassy hills and the furze bushes, he whirls around wildly, firing his pistol in all directions until he's out of ammunition. He runs until he's exhausted. Taylor corners him and the villain drops to his knees, sobbing and begging for mercy. Right.
There is one gem of a performance in the movie. Cyril Cusack's police detective. The role, like that of the reporter, the head honcho and his goons, is a cliché. Cusack shows up once in a while to politely inform Taylor to keep his nose out of police business, forget about revenge, and let the cops do their jobs. But Cusack turns his appearances into something that brightens the whole show. He was equally good in another Forsythe story, "The Day of the Jackal." Not the revolting remake, but the original.