Directed by Walter Hill
Screenplay by Deric Washburn and Harry Kleiner
Story by John Milius and Fred Rexer
Music by Jerry Goldsmith
Cinematography by Matthew F. Leonetti
Edited by Freeman A. Davies, David Holden, and Billy Weber
Produced by Buzz Feitshans and Mario Kassar
Starring
Nick Nolte as Ranger Jack Benteen
Rip Torn as Sheriff Hank
Maria Conchita Alonso as Sarita Cisneros
Powers Boothe as Cash Bailey
Michael Ironside as Hackett
Clancy Brown as McRose
William Forsythe as Atwater
Dan Tullis, Jr. as Luther
Larry B. Scott as Biddle
Matt Mulhern as Coker
Andy Robinson as the Missing Liasion
. . .
"Here we are Space Age high tech, and we get caught by some Stone Age cowboy."
. . .
Review by William D. Tucker.
Extreme Prejudice is a mash-up of a Western, a crime thriller, a police procedural, a romantic melodrama, a paranoia/conspiracy thriller, and all of this served up with homages to the slow motion gun carnage scenes of Sam Peckinpah's film The Wild Bunch. It distinguishes itself from the earlier Peckinpah flick by way of casting its action in terms of macho neurosis as opposed to macho psychosis. In Peckinpah films at their bloodiest, the antiheroes get swept up and away by the intoxicating aspects of bloodshed. In Extreme Prejudice, the characters are more uncertain and divided within themselves, and seek to clarify their courses in life by taking decisive, lethal actions. Yes, it climaxes in a grandiose shoot-out, but this is because the protagonists and antagonists can't resolve their divided allegiances, as opposed to the floridly death-seeking outlaws of Peckinpah.
In El Paso, we have Texas Ranger Jack Benteen going up against his childhood buddy-turned-drug-trafficker-nemesis Cash Bailey. Jack and Cash seem to be able to step outside of their roles as cop and crook-in the early going, anyways-and reminisce about old times full of adolescent sexual conquests. Jack expresses skepticism about the value of the Forever Wars on Drugs, since they basically require him to go after people he grew up with who are all subsistence farmers and blue collar laborers looking to elevate their economic status.
Jack and Cash are both in love with the same woman, the beautiful singer Sarita Cisneros. Sarita, for reasons known only to director Walter Hill and his cadre of screenwriters, believes she can love both men-the Ranger and the Trafficker-I guess because she likes her men tall, angry, and two-at-a-time? Maybe it's supposed to be that Jack and Cash represent Sarita's ideal love but split into two. Jack's morally upright, but Cash is an adventurer. One's reliable but boring; the other's fun but dangerous. Don't worry, the relationship stuff doesn't distract from the shootouts, not too much, anyways.
Cash operates out of an estate in Mexico, and flies back and forth across the border in a helicopter. Jack has seemingly tolerated this blatant criminal activity for awhile, but then there are some shootings and a bombing, and Old Times' Sakes ain't gonna be enough to prevent a showdown.
Oh, and there's also a gang of Special Forces soldiers called Zombie Unit who have faked their deaths, and are able to run secret operations against Cash's criminal empire. At least that's what seems to be going on in the beginning. They're led by a shifty dude named Hackett and they use their military combat training along with (landline) phone hacking, disguises, and explosives to run circles around the cops as they pursue an obscure agenda . . . an agenda sanctioned by the U.S. government? That’s a mystery, isn't it . . .
Remember, this one is about macho neurosis, not macho psychosis. The characters all have big-ass dreams, and yet these don't exactly pan-out. They're just a bit too calculating, too dispassionate. The various plot lines converge on a stylized gun massacre, yet it doesn't quite blossom into the madness of the climax of The Wild Bunch. We're in the late 1980s. The action is big, but the characters want the money and a stable future. In 1969, Peckinpah's outlaws know they're doomed and therefore needed only sensational lawlessness and thrilling obliteration as ends unto themselves. Our crimelord Cash is basically a next-level coke-snorting yuppie fuck-he owns a helicopter, for Christ's sakes! Jack is good with a gun, but he has no confidence in his role as Righteous Avenger. Jack's playing out his fate dutifully, and that's about it.
The Zombie Unit guys are more amusing to watch as they operate. They're kinda like a crooked version of Mission Impossible. They, too, come to question their ultimate purpose.
Dear Reader, I actually like this movie quite a bit moment-to-moment, and yet the more I think about it retrospectively, the less certain I am that I understand what it's all about, if anything. And that bugs me. Maybe the macho neurosis is catching.
