Farewell to the King

John Milius's worst directoral effort, Farewell to the King (1989) exhibits that director's worst traits. A mixture of poor plotting, macho posturing and outsized ambition, it fails on almost every level. At the center is Nick Nolte's curious performance.

American army deserter Leoroyd (Nick Nolte) flees into the jungles of Borneo. He's taken in by a tribe of headhunters he deems the "Comanches," eventually becoming their King. In the waning days of World War II, an Allied commando team led by British Captain Fairbourne (Nigel Havers) arrives, convincing Leoroyd to wage war against Japan. But at war's end, Leoroyd's kingdom finds itself at odds with the Allies, who have their own designs on Borneo.

Farewell to the King's first strike is its dearth of originality. Milius famously provided a riff on Joseph Conrad with Apocalypse Now, and King plays like a 20th Century Lord Jim. But Milius pilfers his big set pieces from cinema favorites. He cribs entire scenes from Lawrence of Arabia and The Man Who Would Be King, leading to a boring and predictable experience. In his best work, The Wind and the Lion, Milius's tongue-in-cheek approach made cliches fresh and endearing. No such luck with the stolid, self-important King, which views repetitive action and aureate grunting as a profound statement on masculinity.

King is just sloppy storytelling. Milius claims the studio cut the film and it's easy to believe. Character and plot developments receive the most tertiary treatment, with a million threads (Fairbourne's romance with an English nurse, Learoyd's conflict between pacifism and war, British imperial designs) left dangling. Even Fairbourne's growing respect for Learoyd, the main element, seems rushed. Embarrassingly purple dialogue doesn't help either. Without strategic motivation or geographic coherence the action scenes are empty shoot-'em-ups. For all the beautiful photography and Basil Pouledoris's rousing score, King never generates interest.

Nick Nolte's performance is puzzling. In some scenes he's dead perfect, utterly believable as a social outcast who's found solace in the jungle. In others, he hams it up embarrassingly, shivering, palpating and chewing scenery like Peter O'Toole on speed. Either way he's certainly more interesting than the anemic supporting cast, with even pros like Nigel Havers (A Passage to India) and James Fox (The Servant) looking bored.

Farewell to the King just doesn't work. There's the outline of a very good movie, but its execution is unremittingly poor. Perhaps the studio ruined it, or perhaps it needed a more subtle director than He-Man Milius. Either way it's a confusing disappointment.