What can you tell me about a seven foot lunatic hacking away with a broadsword at one o’clock in the morning, New York City, 1985?
Brenda Wyatt, Highlander
Highlander
Movie Review
1986 | R
Reviewed March 24, 2007
Who wants to live forever? Not me, if it means having to sit through movies like this for the rest of time. The seminal immortal-dudes-who-fight-with-swords-and-wear-white-sneakers-with-trenchcoats classic did not “wow” me as I had hoped it would; instead, it left me wondering why anyone would like it. The fight scenes are dull, the script is leaden, and the acting — eurgh. And it doesn’t help that Queen (as in the rock band) is usually howling over everything like cats in heat. The whole thing screams nerd, and not in a good way, either; this is the kind of story thought up by pudgy middle-aged virgins who work in comic book shops and daydream about being buff guys who wield broadswords and save hot chicks from evil. I made it about 3/4 of the way through, then gave up and went off to do something more interesting — taking with me that stupid theme song, of course, which was stuck in my head for days. Who wants to shut the hell up, already?
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