The Prize Fighter (1979)

After achieving considerable fame separately, funnymen Tim Conway and Don Knotts made several films together, mostly in the ’70s, that became popular among children but didn’t curry much favor from grown-ups. For instance, The Prize Fighter—a PG-rated flick, as opposed to the duo’s usual G-rated fare—gets mired in so many numbingly predictable plot twists that it’s too tedious for very young kids to enjoy, even as the picture’s reliance on lame physical-comedy shtick ensures the film is too stupid for sensible adults to tolerate. Set in the Depression, The Prize Fighter follows dim-witted losers Bags (Conway), a former boxer, and Shake (Knotts), a former boxing manager. Through incredibly convoluted circumstances, these two get involved with a brutal mobster named Mike (Robin Clarke). It seems Mike wants to use Bags and Shake to swindle Pop Morgan (David Wayne), the owner of a boxing gym that Mike wants to raze for development purposes. Mike arranges for Bags to re-enter the boxing ring as a contender for the world championship, and Mike fixes all of Bags’ fights except the last one—while also tricking Pop Morgan into betting his gym on Bags’ victory. The storyline in The Prize Fighter never quite gels, since it’s predicated on every character except the villain being a complete idiot, and it’s hard to care much what happens to Bags, who is portrayed as a brainless man-child, or Shake, who is portrayed as a whiny sycophant happy to let Bags do all the dirty work. And when trite devices like training montages and a weepie storyline about an orphaned kid are thrown into the mix, The Prize Fighter becomes a chore to watch, no matter how innocent its intentions. Conway must shoulder much of the blame for this lifeless movie, since he co-wrote the script in addition to starring, and TV-hack director Michael Preece does Conway no favors with colorless direction that’s way too obviously patterned after the style George Roy Hill used for another comedy set in the Depression, The Sting (1973).

The Prize Fighter: LAME

The Andromeda Strain (1971)

          Long before contemporary virus-on-the-loose movies such as Outbreak (1995) and Contagion (2011), writer Michael Crichton explored the terror of a potentially unstoppable blight with his 1969 novel The Andromeda Strain, which provided the basis for this intense, Oscar-nominated movie. Built around the idea of a virulent alien entity brought to Earth by a returning space probe that crash lands in a tiny Southwestern town, Crichton’s tale spends very little time depicting the effects of the virus on the outside world. Instead, the bulk of his story takes place inside Wildfire, a massive underground complex designed for responding to viral threats. Accordingly, The Andromeda Strain is one of the most methodical thrillers in sci-fi history, favoring logic and reason over melodrama until the final act, which succumbs to silly ticking-clock story mechanics.

          Drawing on his background as a medical doctor, Crichton painstakingly envisioned the procedures that might be followed in such a facility, so the screen adaptation sometimes feels like a training film as it portrays disinfection baths, specimen analysis, and so forth. In fact, the challenges of adhering to scientific method inform the film’s character conflicts—the mastermind behind Wildfire, bacteria specialist Dr. Jeremy Stone (Arthur Hill), repeatedly criticizes his people for succumbing to emotionalism. This cold-blooded approach irks Stone’s subordinates, including compassionate medical doctor Dr. Mark Hall (James Olson), avuncular pathologist Dr. Charles Dutton (David Wayne), and irritable microbiologist Dr. Ruth Leavitt (Kate Reid). These characters must overcome interpersonal friction as they unravel mysteries with apocalyptic implications.

          Director Robert Wise, whose previous contribution to the sci-fi genre was the chilling classic The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), mirrors the clinical subject matter by utilizing a restrained style. Most scenes are detailed and lengthy, revealing minuscule details about procedure and technology. Combined with the film’s spectacular production design—think smooth chrome surfaces hiding ornate infrastructure—Wise’s storytelling surrounds the characters with dehumanizing atmosphere. Composer Gil Melle’s freaky electronic music, comprising all sorts of mechanized beeps and screeches, jacks up tension considerably.

          The movie occasionally cuts outside Wildfire to depict the activities of military men appraising the contagion’s spread, but the real drama stems from watching the scientists expand their knowledge of the alien killer in their midst. Operating within the tight parameters of the movie’s icy style, leading actors infuse their characters with effective colorations. Hill incarnates a pure scientist capable of fully suppressing his emotions, while to varying degrees his costars let loose. Olsen vigorously attacks the thankless task of portraying the story’s bleeding-heart character, and Reid contributes subtly distinctive work as a woman hiding a secret. Some might find the picture’s approach too muted (the movie is rated G despite fleeting gore and nudity), but given that it spends 130 minutes dramatizing combat against an antagonist the size of a grain of sand, The Andromeda Strain is memorably smart and suspenseful.

The Andromeda Strain: GROOVY