Having been a huge fan of Eastwood's modern directorial career, I had been somewhat trepidatious approaching his earlier works, fearful that they would fall far shy of his current mastery of the art. Fears firmly assuaged by his first three films, I was convinced that the man could do no wrong.
A retired assassin resigned to a life as an art professor and collector, Jonathan Hemlock reluctantly agrees to take on the task of one last "sanction" when he learns that the targets are responsible for the death of an old friend. Discovering that one of the killers—the other has already been easily dispatched—is among an expedition to climb the Eiger, he must discern the identity of the target and take him out, all whilst scaling the deadliest mountain in all of Europe.
Writing the above plot synopsis, I was almost brought to tears of laughter by the absurdity of it. Have another read, go on. Sounds absolutely ridiculous, I'm sure you'll agree. Complete and utter rubbish, right? My thoughts exactly, going into the film. I wondered how my beloved Clint was going to manage to turn such a stupid action premise into a compelling film, as I had no doubt he would. Alas, not even Eastwood could pull such a task off. The Eiger Sanction is a ludicrous film. A key reason for Hemlock's agreement to take on the job is that the government agency which hires him will report his art collection to the IRS if he does not, a leverage he wards off by procuring what the film's Wikipedia synopsis rather charmingly names an "IRS exemption letter". I'm sorry, but that's just funny. As for this secretive organisation, it is headed by an albino ex-Nazi who resides in a darkened red room and survives on regular blood transfusions, all whilst being sure to crowbar the film's title into his painfully expository dialogue. Because there haven't been quite enough espionage thriller clichés gone through yet, let's welcome to the mix an attractive yet ultimately untrustworthy female, an extraordinarily camp former adversary, and a sequence of our hero demonstrating his masculinity by standing on large things. Stop clambering all over Monument Valley Clint, you've lost your right to be there. Startlingly bad, it is genuinely worrying to see the film dedicated to a man whose life was lost in its making. More of an insult than a tribute, it's sad to consider that some poor bugger died for this: a woefully poor, interminably dull, painfully unoriginal, distressingly formulaic, achingly uninteresting, and indescribably unnecessary piece of "action-adventure" tosh.
The sadly inevitable point at which I realised Mr Eastwood is not infallible, The Eiger Sanction is a very poor film which wastes the director's here-absent talents and the skills of the usually wonderful George Kennedy. Stupid, plodding, poorly-written, and badly brought to (decidedly lifeless) life, its only redeeming feature is the laugh factor inspired by the sheer scale of its nonsensicality.
A retired assassin resigned to a life as an art professor and collector, Jonathan Hemlock reluctantly agrees to take on the task of one last "sanction" when he learns that the targets are responsible for the death of an old friend. Discovering that one of the killers—the other has already been easily dispatched—is among an expedition to climb the Eiger, he must discern the identity of the target and take him out, all whilst scaling the deadliest mountain in all of Europe.
Writing the above plot synopsis, I was almost brought to tears of laughter by the absurdity of it. Have another read, go on. Sounds absolutely ridiculous, I'm sure you'll agree. Complete and utter rubbish, right? My thoughts exactly, going into the film. I wondered how my beloved Clint was going to manage to turn such a stupid action premise into a compelling film, as I had no doubt he would. Alas, not even Eastwood could pull such a task off. The Eiger Sanction is a ludicrous film. A key reason for Hemlock's agreement to take on the job is that the government agency which hires him will report his art collection to the IRS if he does not, a leverage he wards off by procuring what the film's Wikipedia synopsis rather charmingly names an "IRS exemption letter". I'm sorry, but that's just funny. As for this secretive organisation, it is headed by an albino ex-Nazi who resides in a darkened red room and survives on regular blood transfusions, all whilst being sure to crowbar the film's title into his painfully expository dialogue. Because there haven't been quite enough espionage thriller clichés gone through yet, let's welcome to the mix an attractive yet ultimately untrustworthy female, an extraordinarily camp former adversary, and a sequence of our hero demonstrating his masculinity by standing on large things. Stop clambering all over Monument Valley Clint, you've lost your right to be there. Startlingly bad, it is genuinely worrying to see the film dedicated to a man whose life was lost in its making. More of an insult than a tribute, it's sad to consider that some poor bugger died for this: a woefully poor, interminably dull, painfully unoriginal, distressingly formulaic, achingly uninteresting, and indescribably unnecessary piece of "action-adventure" tosh.
The sadly inevitable point at which I realised Mr Eastwood is not infallible, The Eiger Sanction is a very poor film which wastes the director's here-absent talents and the skills of the usually wonderful George Kennedy. Stupid, plodding, poorly-written, and badly brought to (decidedly lifeless) life, its only redeeming feature is the laugh factor inspired by the sheer scale of its nonsensicality.