There Can Be More Than One:
Hunter’s Guide to a Proper HIGHLANDER Reboot
by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer, cohost of the Hate Watch/Great Watch Podcast
Highlander (1986) was the little film that could. Released in March 1986, the film underperformed, grossing only $13 million against a $19 million budget, before eventually finding a second life via the home video market. Its cult popularity led to a franchise including multiple sequel films, TV and web series, novelizations, action figures, and of course the phrase "There can be only one" becoming a part of the cultural lexicon. As of the time of writing this, it seems that plans for a franchise reboot from Lionsgate Films, starring Henry Cavill (The Witcher, Mission: Impossible - Fallout) and directed by Chad Stahelski (the John Wick series) are moving forward. So I figured: why not offer my expertise as an appreciator of fine cinema, a fan of Highlander, and a script doctor for hire?
Highlander has always felt special to me. It's an inherently violent film that (SPOILERS from here on, I'd say) ends with the revelation that the much sought-after "Prize" was not the typical ultimate power cliché, but a connection, a oneness, with all life on Earth that leaves our hero wanting to help mankind; to be a guiding force in bringing us into a more perfect future. I would hate to see that altruism sullied a second time by wasting a potential fresh restart. To that end, I've compiled a list of eight suggestions on how to do a Highlander Reboot correctly. Your mileage, as they say, may vary.
On the surface, and thus to new fans, Highlander runs the risk of seeming like just another sword and/or sorcery franchise attempt--think Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, and the numerous films and series that have failed to take the monocultural baton from them--but it actually has the potential to be something much more interesting and unique. From the jump the Highlander franchise was compromised--the first film has a firm ending that made it difficult for the screenwriters of the 1990s to build upon--leading to an overall fairly confusing lore that must ultimately, largely be jettisoned for a reboot in favor of following through on the spirit of the original with this new potential franchise.
In the lore of the Highlander films, there exists a species of Immortals. They look and behave just like humans, and do not intrinsically know they are anything but human, until they suffer a wound that would kill a normal person. This essentially activates them, connecting them to a larger life force shared by all living things but also turning them into something akin to a beacon for other Immortals. Now they can be tracked, which is dangerous because inside nearly every Immortal is a biological imperative that tells them There Can Be Only One. There also exists a prophecy among Immortals that there will come a contest called The Gathering, where all Immortals will compete in gladiatorial combat until only one remains to claim The Prize (an unknown ultimate final power). Immortals can only be killed via beheading, and if that beheading is committed by another Immortal, he or she collects the residual life energy formerly held by their fallen foe in a transference event known as The Quickening.
So, to summarize: if you're an Immortal, and you kill another Immortal, you become stronger and, probably, a more noticeable target. And your ultimate goal is to be the last living Immortal to claim your Prize. Makes sense, right?
Below, I've compiled a relatively short, but well reasoned, list of lessons that can be taken from the previous Highlander franchise, beginning with key lessons to be taken from the original, and most successful film, and then focusing on lessons that can be learned from its sequels.
Part I : Lessons from HIGHLANDER (1986)
First - Swords and Other Weapons:
Then: In the original Highlander, a man who we will come to know as Connor MacLeod (Christopher Lambert), attends a professional wrestling match in New York's Madison Square Garden, but leaves mid-way through to have a sword fight in a the parking garage that ends with him beheading his opponent and being infused with magical energies. This establishes that at any time, dozens of normal, and not so normal-looking people are traveling major cities with enormous, cumbersome concealed bladed weapons upon them. And that's a good thing for a movie! It’s fun! So why not lean into it?
Now: Let's get this one out of the way. When I think "Highlander", I think swordplay! Battle-hardened titans clashing steel in exotic locations, whipping each other's magical energies into a froth, summoning storm clouds, calling down lightning, and shaking the earth! But. What we need is variety. Yes, there are numerous different styles of what could swords; the Scottish claymore, Indonesia golok machetes, Egyptian shamshir; a full armory's worth of other variations, but there are so many other bladed weapons. After we've seen nu-Connor (or our Connor equivalent main character) dispatch a few swordsman goons, just when we think we know what's coming, have some obvious baddies reach behind a pillar and produce a 10-foot pike! And have them be good with it; have it be a genuine challenge for Connor. Maybe someone unassuming, like a paperboy, produces a pair of sickles out of his newspaper bag! The attacks could come from anywhere, from anyone, using any style of weapon in an attempt to remove Connor's head from his body! A metal whip, a bladed flail, etc. Shake things up!Second - Blindness to Ethnicity:
Then: The titular Highlander of the franchise is the Scotsman Connor MacLoad--”Highlander” being a term for someone from the Scottish Highlands--who is played by the French-American actor Christopher Lambert who was raised in Geneva giving him a very unique accent, especially when he attempts a Scottish one on top of it. His mentor character is one Juan Sánchez-Villalobos Ramírez, who despite his Spanish-sounding name is actually Egyptian and is played by noted real-life Scot Sean Connery who never even attempts to wrangle his native burr. And even though it's the black sheep of the franchise--which I will get in the second half of this piece--the villain of Highlander 2 is an actual space alien played by Canadian genre legend Michael Ironside, who is named after a Japanese sword: Katana.Now: Whereas in the past, actors have gotten flack for poorly attempting accents (Kevin Costner in 1991's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves), or even faced backlash for ethnic miscasting, this approach is part of the off-kilter charm of the Highlander films for me. It's a feature, not a bug, as they say. The cognitive dissonance of an actor's real world ethnicity clashing with that of their character gives a tangible quality to their backstories. They've existed for so long, and traveled so far from their points of origin that, like an Army brat, their accents are a melange of influences gathered over time. I'm sure that's not how it was intended, but that's how I've always read it. So cast Flula Borg as an Irishman with a battle axe, Rosie Perez as a fencer from the Netherlands, Luis Guzmán as a Australian mercenary wielding a sabre.
Third - Artful Scene Transitions:
Then: I will be the first to admit that the original Highlander is a bit of a mess. The entire franchise is beset by creative interference and alternate edits of the films, but one thing that shines through in the first film especially is the scene transitions. Panning up from a parking garage in 1985 to emerge in the Scottish Highlands in 1536; pulling back from a dying Connor MacLeod in the 16th century through the pupil of his eye as he remembers his death from the 20th century; A truck shrieking past the screen in modern New York, transitioning to a drunk in the Renaissance with a graveyard of teeth leering into the lens; they're all incredibly pulpy and capture a sort of EC Comics genre feel like few other films. Russell Mulcahy (director of the first two Highlander films) establishes the giddy energy of the franchise, which is a huge part of what has made it an enduring hub in the pop cultural landscape.
Now: With Chad Stahelski helming the reboot, I at least have faith that the combat will have chutzpah, but one thing I do not associate with Stahelski is whimsy. Highlander demands whimsy, if for no other reason than to differentiate itself from the proliferation of deadly self-serious sword-swinging IPs out there, but it would also be nice if something in the modern era--aside from the excellent Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)--truly embraced the flamboyance and swashbuckling fun that is possible within this subgenre.
Fourth - A Concept Record Soundtrack:
Then: Queen was approached to do a song for the original film's soundtrack--having written the fantastic theme for 1980’s Flash Gordon adaptation--and were given 20 minutes of footage from the film to work off of. Although only asked to create one song, they ended up writing the better part of an entire album, which would become A Kind of Magic (also released in 1986). Songs like “One Year of Love”, “Gimme the Prize (Kurgan’s Theme)”, and of course "Princes of the Universe" are all tremendous, but I honestly don't think there's a better song on that soundtrack than "Who Wants to Live Forever"?
In the first half of this piece, I mentioned that the 1986 fantasy film Highlander, underperformed at the box office and was designed with a closed ending; there was to be no sequel. But as home video rentals and television broadcasts increased its cult fandom, inevitably sequels were made. Per the original, a race called Immortals has always existed alongside humanity, unseen, following their own pursuits. Specifically, winnowing down their numbers until only one final member would exist, surviving what they called The Gathering (or The Great Game) to claim The Prize, which was undiluted access to the life force shared by all living things, but to which Immortals had a greater connection.
The many sequels add to this lore as sequels have a want to do, and even putting aside Highlander 2 (1991)--which I will talk about shortly--the expanded lore becomes both confusing and generically bland. By the end of the fifth film, it is revealed that the famous franchise mantra "There Can Be Only One" ties into the ancient Source of the Immortals’ power and represents a good-vs-evil dichotomy reminiscent of the TV show LOST, which is an idea that could be interesting if done well, or could end up feeling like a watered down version of Star Wars' Light Side of The Force / Dark Side of The Force conflict.
Christian mythology, secret techno-cults within the Immortals, out-and-out illusion magic, progenitor demigods, and more '90s and 2000s -era genre silliness were folded into the lore over time in an attempt to ground and expand the world of the franchise, but only succeeded in making it feel less uniquely mystical and elemental. The second and fifth installments--subtitled The Quickening (1991) and The Source (2007), respectively--also try too hard to explain things (and further confuse audiences by roping in dystopian futures for some reason) muddying the waters to the degree that The Quickening was wholly ignored by the films that followed and The Source effectively killed the franchise.
So, to paraphrase Queen's "Princes of the Universe", here we are. There hasn't been a Highlander film in 18 years, there's never been a firm lore, and if we must update the series for modern audiences, we should have the sense to learn from the past. For those who do not do so, as the famous adage goes, are doomed to repeat it.
Part II: Lessons from the HIGHLANDER Sequels
Fifth - Absolutely No Aliens:
Then: Ok, let's address it quickly. Since Highlander ended with Connor MacLeod as the last surviving Immortal, when it came time to plan a sequel, the trio of credited writers--Brian Clemens, William N. Panzer (story), and Peter Bellwood (screenplay)--chose to retcon the vague but mystical-feeling backstory of the Immortal race to make them have secretly been aliens from a planet called Zeist all along. Weirdly and confusingly, not all the peoples of Zeist are Immortals (so they're still a biological oddity with no explanation) but the ones who come to Earth do so as a punishment, and the Great Game was to see which one would be allowed to return to Zeist. This is inarguably ambitious, and maybe even--if I'm feeling generous--could have been cool but is wildly mishandled in the film, coming off as unnecessarily confusing. Worse, it fully conflicts with the overall feel of the origin film. Just imagine if Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) opened with Linda Hamilton saying "An unknown future rolls towards us. I've been studying the Necronomicon in prison to learn a magic powerful enough to stop it!". It's a tonal clash and a bucket of cold water to the face.Now: It's so simple, baby. Embrace the magic! There's something very specific about the feeling of the magics of the original Highlander. It's more spiritual and elemental--implying an innate connection with nature--than out-and-out, Harry Potter-style magical, which is why the emphasis on hard magical rules and especially the prevalence of illusory magic in Highlander 3 (1994) feels so out-of-harmony with the rest of it. We've long understood that science fiction has different aspects, hence the terms hard sci-fi and soft sci-fi, so why not learn to embrace different approaches to the magical component(s) within fantasy? But I digress.
Sixth - Careful Lore and World Building:
Then: Highlander established a certain lore: Immortals, a race not dissimilar from humans, existed parallel to us, largely unseen, living lives and battling to become the last surviving Immortal. It ends with Connor MacLeod achieving that goal and experiencing an existential oneness with all life on Earth. This implicitly mystical backstory is then changed to a science fictional one in Highlander 2--see above--and quickly changed back in Highlander 3 which doubles down on magic but leans too heavily on sorcery over the more elemental and ethereal magical vibes established in the original. It's honestly a bit of a mess; tonal discord.
Now: My educated guess for all the wild swings--which I admire, even if they don't work--is that, since the original Highlander ends so firmly, with the eternal struggle of the Immortals now finished, that it seemed there was nowhere to take the story. My pitch? Any human could be an Immortal without knowing it, until this secret bloodline is activated by their near death (which, to be clear, would kill a normal person), at which time they gain access to the sort of central world-mind at the heart of the Quickening energies. Thus, any time there is a war, a whole new crop of Immortals appear, syphoning off their share of that energy, and tacitly alerting the previous Immortals to their existence. Seems obvious, doesn’t it?Seventh - Gore and Practical Effects:
Then: Many of the Highlander films have suffered from producorial meddling, sometimes resulting in differing releases--there was a "roughly 8 minute" difference in the original film’s run times between the U.S. and U.K. releases; the third film is known by two different names depending on which version you watch, and so on--and much of it has to do with the violence depicted. You can actually spot practical effects heads that never pop (or whatever they were designed to do) in at least two of the films. For a franchise built around the concept of severing an enemy's head with a weapon, as a franchise, Highlander sure is a bit gun shy when it comes to depicting the act.
Now: I think we can all agree that, while I'm sure they are easier on some metric, CGI blood effects never look great. I'm not saying we should abandon them entirely, but an emphasis on, and a showcase of, practical effects would go a long way with fans. It would also embrace the aforementioned genre history while simultaneously balancing the implicit silliness of the concept I mentioned at the top. In the original Highlander, villain The Kurgan (Clancy Brown) gets his throat cut in the past, but survives, leaving him with a nasty scar. Imagine a Rob Bottin / The Thing (1982) level of practical effects showing an almost fully severed head re-connecting to the shoulders (which you can achieve by recording it coming apart, then playing the footage in reverse). Make the audience squirm a little! Show 'em something unique. You can even futz with it digitally if you feel like you need to, but I think the weight that practical effects bring to the screen would go a long way towards making the danger feel tangible, and thus grounded and real.Eighth - Fan Service and Elbow Nudges:
Then: Fan service doesn't really become much of a thing for the Highlander franchise until you start getting into the various TV series and spin-off materials, which almost always tie themselves into the original film via some connection to the MacLeod bloodline. Highlander: The Series (1996-1998) had Lambert show up as Connor to ease the audience into the story of main character Duncan MacLeod (Adrian Paul), a clansman of Connor who had, up to that point, remained hidden by choice. But that kind of fan service isn't really my concern in adding this bullet-point.Now: You know what I'm worried about. I don't want or need any heavy-handed, Eric Idle-level elbow nudging to give fans a brief burst of recognitory serotonin and make them feel, briefly, pleased. You can acknowledge what came before without having it go over like a lead balloon. Obviously the phrase "There Can Be Only One" will reoccur, and that’s great! It's the mantra for the franchise--although quite ironic for a franchise I think you’d agree. I do not think we should have things like CGI de-aged Christopher Lambert, or a "posthumous performance" from Ramírez, like Ash in Alien Romulus or Grand Moff Tarkin in Rogue One. Sorry gang, that shit is ghoulish. Instead, let's approach these with intelligence. Give Lambert a small cameo as an unimportant character who, and I cannot state this clearly enough, doesn't say anything winky and then just walks away. None of that "I used to be quite good with a sword..." stuff. No "Oh, you're from the Scottish Highlands? Get outta town! Me too!". None of it! Consider having Lambert and Clancy Brown record some dialogue heard during a quickening, maybe as two of many voices inside The Prize, explaining that it is both power and harmony. With fan service: Less is more.
As I said at the opening of this endeavor, I am available as a script doctor for hire. So, Lionsgate, Chad Stahelski, Henry Cavill, whomever: get at me. I have an odd affinity for this franchise and would love to be paid to help make a masterpiece that will stand the test of time. To be sure, there are more suggestions--the main villain’s name should start with a K, as is tradition--but these are the make-or-break guidelines that seem most imperative to me.
If that somehow doesn't come to pass, I hope at least that this list has piqued the interest of some folks reading it. Highlander (1986) is truly a unique beast and should not be judged by the overall mediocre sequels, ambitious though they may be, that followed. It's imperfect, but like a punk record or a Turkish rug, the imperfections only enhance the charm and beauty for me, and grow my affinity. Check it out, maybe you'll feel the same.
Above all: Chase your passions. I didn't set out to write several thousand words of unsolicited advice about a film released during my toddlerdom, but I've found considering these points to be a very rewarding experience. I hope you've enjoyed reading them. Until next time, Long Live the Movies!












No comments:
Post a Comment