Basing a film on a bestselling novel can be a recipe for success. Or not, as the case might be. Novelist and former journalist Frederick Forsyth had a proven track record on both page and screen, such as The Day of the Jackal. So it's perhaps no surprise that his 1974 novel about a mercenary coup in Africa should get the cinematic treatment. The result was John Irvin's 1980 film The Dogs of War, a film that, on paper, had a lot going for it.
For one thing, it's source material and director. Forsyth's novel offered readers a crash course in the world of mercenaries and shady business dealings in Africa, yet did so in a way that was immensely entertaining with a cast of characters and plots to entice the reader. Director Irvin, meanwhile, was coming off the success of his BBC TV adaptation of John le Carre's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which took audiences on George Smiley's hunt for a mole inside of British intelligence. Have crafted an engaging labyrinthine thriller from le Carre onto the screen, Irvin was a perfect choice for bringing Forsyth's novel to the screen.
Yet, the film faltered to a sizable extent. Much of that isn't the fault of Irvin but the screenwriters, Gary DeVore and George Malko. To be fair to them, getting Forsyth onto the screen isn't easy, as the writer himself is said to have discovered when adapting his later novel The Fourth Protocol to the screen. The problem, writing as someone who finished reading the book not 24 hours before seeing the film version, is how little of it made it to the screen. The basic plot is more or less there, yes, but for much of its length, The Dogs of War film bares the slimmest resemblance to The Dogs of War novel. In itself, this isn't a bad thing, as the film is its own animal, and has to be simply due to the change in medium. What DeVore and Malko did was take an intriguing story and lose much of the motivations and details that made Forsyth's tale so rich and replace it with cardboard characters and a lack of detail. Indeed, without reading the novel, why the whole coup takes place, or the final twist, won't make a lick of sense. Instead of an engaging, driven narrative, the film is like watching a group of dancers perform without backing music, and it loses much of its effectiveness in the process.
The film, though, has plenty to offer viewers, whether they've read the novel or not. Irvin's direction captures, as it did in for le Carre's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, a sense of grim reality to the events the film portrays, even when the script doesn't. Between Irving and cinematographer Jack Cardiff, they find in visuals an equivalent to Forsyth's prose, selling the reality of these places scattered across three continents. Irving also excels in the film's bookending well-staged action sequences, including an impressive shot just before the opening title card as a plane takes off as an airfield is under bombardment. Irving also tapped his Tinker Tailor composer Geoffrey Burgon for the score, who delivers a score that captures the tensions and even excitement of events portrayed. For all its faults on the scripting level, let there be no doubt that The Dogs of War is a well-made film.
It's a film that also has an interesting, if underutilized, cast. Christopher Walken would not have been my first choice as a reader for the role of lead mercenary Shannon, but, to his credit, the intelligence Walken brings to his best performances serves him well here. His fellow mercenaries are quite a cast of stock characters, including All-American man of action Drew played by Tom Barranger, and a small but early film role for Ed O'Neill. Hugh Millais brings a sense of menace to British businessman Roy Endean who hires Shannon while Colin Blakely brings an air of intrigue as the nosy journalist North. The cast is rounded off by JoBeth Williams as Shannon's ex-wife, Winston Ntshona in a role not unlike his part in the similarly themed film The Wild Geese, and appearances by character actors Robert Urquhart, Shane Rimmer, and Terrence Rigby (also a Tinker Tailor veteran) in small roles. And, with just a couple of lines, an early screen role for Jim Broadbent. Though no one's character, with the possible exception of Walken's Shannon, is well-developed, the cast does well all things considered.
Perhaps The Dogs of War could have been a first-rate film, a classic even. What it is, thanks mainly to its script, is a decent thriller, albeit one that feels like it's missing something. Even so, it remains an immensely watchable, if flawed, piece of work.
For one thing, it's source material and director. Forsyth's novel offered readers a crash course in the world of mercenaries and shady business dealings in Africa, yet did so in a way that was immensely entertaining with a cast of characters and plots to entice the reader. Director Irvin, meanwhile, was coming off the success of his BBC TV adaptation of John le Carre's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which took audiences on George Smiley's hunt for a mole inside of British intelligence. Have crafted an engaging labyrinthine thriller from le Carre onto the screen, Irvin was a perfect choice for bringing Forsyth's novel to the screen.
Yet, the film faltered to a sizable extent. Much of that isn't the fault of Irvin but the screenwriters, Gary DeVore and George Malko. To be fair to them, getting Forsyth onto the screen isn't easy, as the writer himself is said to have discovered when adapting his later novel The Fourth Protocol to the screen. The problem, writing as someone who finished reading the book not 24 hours before seeing the film version, is how little of it made it to the screen. The basic plot is more or less there, yes, but for much of its length, The Dogs of War film bares the slimmest resemblance to The Dogs of War novel. In itself, this isn't a bad thing, as the film is its own animal, and has to be simply due to the change in medium. What DeVore and Malko did was take an intriguing story and lose much of the motivations and details that made Forsyth's tale so rich and replace it with cardboard characters and a lack of detail. Indeed, without reading the novel, why the whole coup takes place, or the final twist, won't make a lick of sense. Instead of an engaging, driven narrative, the film is like watching a group of dancers perform without backing music, and it loses much of its effectiveness in the process.
The film, though, has plenty to offer viewers, whether they've read the novel or not. Irvin's direction captures, as it did in for le Carre's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, a sense of grim reality to the events the film portrays, even when the script doesn't. Between Irving and cinematographer Jack Cardiff, they find in visuals an equivalent to Forsyth's prose, selling the reality of these places scattered across three continents. Irving also excels in the film's bookending well-staged action sequences, including an impressive shot just before the opening title card as a plane takes off as an airfield is under bombardment. Irving also tapped his Tinker Tailor composer Geoffrey Burgon for the score, who delivers a score that captures the tensions and even excitement of events portrayed. For all its faults on the scripting level, let there be no doubt that The Dogs of War is a well-made film.
It's a film that also has an interesting, if underutilized, cast. Christopher Walken would not have been my first choice as a reader for the role of lead mercenary Shannon, but, to his credit, the intelligence Walken brings to his best performances serves him well here. His fellow mercenaries are quite a cast of stock characters, including All-American man of action Drew played by Tom Barranger, and a small but early film role for Ed O'Neill. Hugh Millais brings a sense of menace to British businessman Roy Endean who hires Shannon while Colin Blakely brings an air of intrigue as the nosy journalist North. The cast is rounded off by JoBeth Williams as Shannon's ex-wife, Winston Ntshona in a role not unlike his part in the similarly themed film The Wild Geese, and appearances by character actors Robert Urquhart, Shane Rimmer, and Terrence Rigby (also a Tinker Tailor veteran) in small roles. And, with just a couple of lines, an early screen role for Jim Broadbent. Though no one's character, with the possible exception of Walken's Shannon, is well-developed, the cast does well all things considered.
Perhaps The Dogs of War could have been a first-rate film, a classic even. What it is, thanks mainly to its script, is a decent thriller, albeit one that feels like it's missing something. Even so, it remains an immensely watchable, if flawed, piece of work.