The Brilliance of Highlander II (1991)

 Today is an auspicious date--time for me to once more examine a film much maligned. Namely, Highlander II. Or, as it is often regarded by some even thirty years on, the worst film to ever star Sean Connery since Zardoz. Or, indeed, one of the worst films of all time. Some would go as far to say that it would be an indisputable result of someone binging on Bacardi before slamming their forehead into a keyboard to produce the script. But they're wrong. As I shall explain, in this not at all facetious dissertation, it's actually brilliant. 

The first Highlander is a product of a bygone era when you could have a violent fantasy film scored by Freddy Mercury and play it completely straight. Thus it tells the tale of titular Scotsman Connor MacLeod, played by Christopher Lambert in a Scottish accent that is not all like a stoned Peter Lorre, who after falling in battle turns out to be an immortal, that can only be killed by decapitation. This is explained to him by Ramirez, a Spanish man who also happens to be Egyptian, played by Indiana Jones' daddy himself, Mr. Connery. The film didn't dwell too much on the hows and whys of the immortality system, nor the grand contest all the immortals eventually undertake in the present day, beyond Connery going 'who knows and who cares' in more flowery words. 

I'll talk more on that one on a later date, but needless to say, there is no better film that involves both Queen and electric swordfights. Though the story was quite conclusively wrapped up, director Russel Mulcahy made the daring decision to helm a followup, which also settled the lingering questions on the backstory and mythology. It did so in ways that to this day remain hotly discussed, for their sheer unmitigated bravery. 

We start off about forty years after the end of the first, where Connor now lives in a cyberpunk dystopian future that some would say looks like Blade Runner if someone replaced the elaborate and atmospheric set design with piles of garbage. But I say it's incredibly evocative--we can see this is a future so oppressed nobody can be bothered to give specific names to establishments, leaving us with an opera house called 'Opera'. 

The film wastes very little time before getting to what is best known about it--namely, its revelation for the true backstory of Connor, Ramirez, and the other immortals. It turns out they actually came from a planet called Zeist, where they fought a rebellion against a General Katana (Michael Ironside) in may appear like a very anemic riff on Dune. Defeated, the rebels were subsequently sent to Earth, where they became immortal. Now, many, many questions were raised from fans and critics, like why Connor and Ramirez even had Spanish and Scottish names if they were aliens, how banishment suddenly made them immortal, and why the other immortals would have to fight each other, and how why how why why how. But, what is often failed to be understood, is that the writers and directors were making a bold artistic statement transcending mere standard conventions--namely, that making sense is for schmucks. And were they not vindicated, by the likes of Michael Bay considering continuity and logic extremely vague suggestions at best in certain future flicks, and then raking in billions of dollars?

In a galaxy we all hope to hell is far, far away as possible...

Anyway, Connor just spontaneously remembers all of this for essentially no reason (other than watching Wagner really intently, I guess), for cause and effect is another petty little trifle this incredible script has chosen to dispense with. After this, he stumbles about a bit in our future metropolis, rendered with only the most delicate palette of dreary colors, for it turns out he helped design a sun-blotting atmospheric shield that saved the ozone layer, or something. 

However, a big evil corporation that is most corporation-y and evil now refuses to shut it off, in order to make money, or something, but rebels like spunky young Louise (Virginia Madsen) still fight against it, and now she bumps into Connor at chance. Such biting commentary on capitalism and its contradictions, wedged in between our epic fantasy dramas of space Scotsmen who are actually Spanish but were originally Egyptian, comes together seamlessly. 

Back on planet Zeist, General Katana has apparently spent hundreds of years sitting around doing nothing, until he decides that he will in fact decide to have Connor murdered for no real impetus. This strange impulsiveness adds richness and texture to this character, in addition to him seemingly being evil, because, you see, he's evil. And so he summons his finest forces--two cackling lunatics on hoverboards with porcupine spines in their hair and whose marksmanship would have stormtroopers rolling on the floor with laughter. But, you see, this is more rich commentary on military juntas, whose expenditure on bad hair styling leads to the neglect of...just about everything apparently. 

Truly, they join the Uruk-Hai and the legions of SkyNet as cinema's most horrifying peons of evil.

The two flying nutjobs thus try to attack Connor, in a sequence that many would call absolutely ridiculous, but its random wanton explosions and murky visuals are in fact expertly sculpted to create an atmosphere of new wave surrealism. After he kills the porcupine people, Connor absorbs their energy, magically rejuvenates himself, and not only this, spontaneously brings Ramirez back to life by shouting his name really loud. And therein lies a critical message of the film--that toddlers do in fact have it right and you can get what you want by yelling. Once again the auteurs behind this masterpiece are vindicated by the passage of time, for it is by that principle that many contemporary figures in power seem to operate by now.

This nevertheless prompts Katana to descend to Earth himself, whereupon he immediately finds himself in a subway train and elects to take it for a joyride, for no reason. We are given a sequence more harrowing than the opening to Saving Private Ryan where our bad guy violates all the laws of engineering and common sense to damn near break the sound barrier with public transport. I challenge you not to be chilled by Ironside's understated performance of perfected subtlety, from when he shouts 'give me MORE'! while messing with train controls, to the moment when he references Wizard of Oz for no reason. 

Not since Terl in Battlefield Earth have I witnessed an antagonist so rich and nuanced. Bravo, sir. 

  

Katana and Connor soon meet, and we are reminded as per the first film that immortals cannot fight on holy ground, which many have stated makes no sense here now that we've established they are in fact aliens. This is ignoring of course the fantastic commentary on universal spirituality on display here, and how it transcends time, space, and even anything resembling logic. Before long though, the two fight, in a set that looks like something out of Burton's Batman minus any distinct artistic style, but that sort of thing is overrated anyway. 

Following an inconclusive outcome to the battle, we finally have Connor reunite with Ramirez, whose main priority was getting himself a new suit on arrival, truly expressing their deep and pressing bond. Together with Louise, who exists here as a love interest that is most assuredly not merely a notch above a piece of cardboard with a mouth drawn on it, they decide to take the fight to the evil corporation blotting out the sun. Now that Ramirez has gone all this way to reunite with his once-protege, you would think that his would be a compelling and critical role in this plot. But, ingenious as this script is, he is there only to use completely undefined telekinesis to hold up an inexplicable giant fan that serves as a random obstacle, and then explode. The courage of this film, to bring back Sean Connery and then use him only to pull Force powers out of nowhere for one impediment, is beyond compare. 

"Well, ischn't that schit. Fortunately, an extraordinary gentleman like myschelf could never schtar in a dumber film, not even if I wasch wearing underwear the whole time."

And once again Connor fights Katana top the big shield generator thingy, defeats him, and the day is saved. Depending on which of the half-dozen existing cuts of this film you're watching, he and Louise might also turn into magical sparkly dust and head off to Zeist. For, as we have established, this film is firmly making a statement that anything resembling coherence, sense, and consistency deserves to be abolished, for it merely impedes one in making random objects (and Sean Connery) spontaneously combust. Such boldness, such magnificent elan, deserves only applause.

That is Highlander II, and hopefully you now understand why this film has become legend. There have been multiple edits over the years, all of them removing references to the planet Zeist--which for me, ruins the whole fun of it all (and it still renders the titular main character not an actual highlander). Indeed, such is the film's commitment to kicking reason in its nether regions, that I do think it may just crack a smile for many, if not leave them in absolute stitches on the floor. It may not have Queen, but in the annals of certain kinds of cinema, it will still live forever anyway...