Review: Who Dares Wins (AKA The Final Option)

An anti-nuke demonstration in London turns ugly and a protester is killed. The Brit secret services learn that a militant wing of the anti-nuke movement is planning an act of terrorism at any time now, and they send SAS man Lewis Collins to go undercover and infiltrate the group before it’s too late. The married (with a kid) Collins attempts to get close to their leader (played by Judy Davis), with the cover story that he’s a disgruntled former SAS man who has seen the light. She hires him as security for the group, and before long they are even living together. Ingrid Pitt plays a particularly militant member of the group, Kenneth Griffith plays a communist priest, Maurice Roeves plays Maj. Steele (essentially the Harry Andrews part in this kind of thing as the guy in charge of whipping recruits into shape). Turning up more briefly are Patrick Allen (as a Police Commissioner), Edward Woodward (SAS Commander Powell), Richard Widmark (U.S. Secretary of State), and Robert Webber (an American General). Paul Freeman has a cameo at the end as a Brit politician.

 

More commonly known as “The Final Option”, this 1982 Ian Sharp (A TV director who made the brilliantly titled “Pride and Extreme Prejudice”) thriller about the British SAS was the first non-Australian feature film for Aussie actress Judy Davis. More than anything, however, it was seemingly meant to catapult Brit TV actor Lewis Collins (of TV’s “The Professionals”) into stardom and possibly one day the role of 007. Very loosely based on a real-life incident, the film failed miserably with critics in particular, and it’s not all that hard to see why. One can also see why the role of Bond never came Collins’ way (And indeed he was rumoured to have tested for the part in the early 80s). He is charisma-deficient in the extreme, to say the least, and a big part of why this film doesn’t work. I’m guessing producer Euan Lloyd (“Catlow”, “The Wild Geese”, “The Sea Wolves”) saw the next Richard Burton or Robert Powell in Mr. Collins, but a charisma-deficient version of Pierce Brosnan would be closer to the mark. He leaves a huge black hole at the centre with his singularly uninteresting performance.

 

Things don’t start off horribly, with Judy Davis seen early as a strident anti-nuke protester, something that is definitely in her wheelhouse. She’s certainly more appropriately cast here than in the subsequent “A Passage to India”, Oscar-nomination be damned. She was horribly miscast in that film, and this film makes my case perfectly: Soft and frail she ain’t. However, the film’s depiction of strident activists-turned terrorists is laughably absurd and it’s no surprise that Davis later spoke out against the film (She read the script though, right? And filmed the movie? Uh-huh). Personally I think it’s too stupid to be offensive. I mean, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen Davis’ American-themed avant-garde meets early 80s synth-pop club/stage performance. WTF? Unfortunately, it gets even worse for her and I’m not talking about her unconvincing American accent. The climax has her looking absolutely ridiculous with a messy punk hairdo, a dinner dress, and a machine gun she rather uncomfortably hoists. She still had a career after this, folks, a pretty big one. Amazing.

 

There are elements here that are somewhat interesting, but the story is just plain silly in execution, with Davis’ character being one of the biggest morons in cinematic history. Even when she finds out that Collins has been lying to her, she still wants to involve him in the cause. Bloody hell. Kenneth Griffith (the only person who seemingly realises how incredibly stupid this all is) turns up as a Communist bishop who claims that ‘Jesus was a militant radical!’. Oh boy. His performance isn’t bad, but it’s jarringly comical for a film that, whilst certainly spectacularly silly (Skinheads who attend rallies for liberal hippie causes? REALLY?), takes itself disastrously seriously. What in the hell was screenwriter Reginal Rose (“12 Angry Men”, “The Wild Geese”, “The Sea Wolves”, “Whose Life is it, Anyway?”) smoking when he wrote this? The only believable thing in the whole film is Ingrid Pitt having a high old time as one of the more gung-ho revolutionaries. Subtle she ain’t, but you really do believe she’d kill a kid, she’s just got that icy-veined vibe about her. Veterans Richard Widmark and Robert Webber aren’t around until the final stretch in what amount to ‘guest star’ roles, or glorified cameos. Widmark tries his best, but the role is too tiny and too late in arriving.

 

Tedious, woefully unconvincing and seriously lame, a lot of talented people (and Lewis Collins) cocked up big-time here. What was everyone involved thinking? Only the underrated Ingrid Pitt emerges unscathed. Terrible waste of Edward Woodward and Patrick Allen in mere cameos, and what was with that end-scene cameo by Paul Freeman? Oh I know the (absurdly right-wing) point being made, I just mean why hire such a well-known face for a 30 second role at the end? Weird. Stupid film, and super-duper right-wing to boot (Ronald Reagan loved the film, apparently). Horribly dated, irritating 80s synth score by Roy Budd (“Get Carter”, “The Stone Killer”, “The Wild Geese”, “Wild Geese II”) is the arsenic icing on the turd cake.

 

Rating: D+