Inchon

"I can almost hear the ticking of the second hand of destiny."

Terence Young's Inchon (1981) has a notoriety stemming from its scarcity as much as quality. A vanity project for Sun Myung Moon, leader of the Unification Church, the movie earned abysmal reviews, tanked financially and never saw video release. Most available bootlegs originate from a screening on the GoodLife TV Network (now Youtoo TV). Never an optimal viewing choice, streaming it on Youtube is the only way to view this turkey.

Every bad movie writer from the Medveds through Michael Sauter trashes Inchon. It's a lousy film all right, mixing incoherent action, risible melodrama and right wing agitprop. Throw in Laurence Olivier's ghoulish portrayal of Douglas MacArthur and you've got a monumental mess.

June 1950. North Korean forces invade South Korea, overrunning most of that country. United Nations forces led by American General Douglas MacArthur (Laurence Olivier) struggle to fight back, being pushed to the Pusan perimeter. Major Frank Hallsworth (Ben Gazzara) and Sergeant Henderson (Richard Roundtree) get caught up in the retreat. Hallsworth's estranged wife Barbara (Jacqueline Bissett) rescues several Korean children while fleeing south. MacArthur conceives a bold counter-stroke - an amphibious landing at Inchon, well behind enemy lines.

Inchon's turbulent production is more interesting than the film. Moon conceived of MacArthur's landing at Inchon as God's handiwork, presumably elevating Dugout Doug to sainthood. Along with Japanese tycoon Mitsu Haru Ishii, Moon invested a staggering $46,000,000 in the movie, $1.25 million on Laurence Olivier alone. Yet filming was sabotaged by typhoons, earthquakes, uncooperative stars and equipment difficulties. At least one extra died filming a battle scene. All this before opening to universal scorn. Not until Battlefield Earth would Hollywood again witness such messianic hubris.

Inchon mixes the worst qualities of '60s epics like The Longest Day and Reagan-era action flicks. The opening hour presents endless scenes of North Koreans machine gunning civilians. Artfully handled this could be powerful; with Young's hamfisted direction it's execrable. Moon himself was South Korean, yet Inchon makes his countrymen faceless supplicants awaiting rescue by the American ubermensch. Along with MacArthur's constant invocation of God Almighty (ending with the Lord's Prayer) and the presence of young Alexander Haig (John Pochna) it's a conservative wet dream.

Inchon's main sin though is complete incoherence. Robin Moore and Laird Koenig's script never forms into a cogent narrative. The first half intercuts atrocities with treacly vignettes, providing no idea of the military situation, or even basic geography. Soldiers march, civilians flee, and we've no clue where they're going or why. Even when the plot starts to settle, things are dulled by windbag speechmaking and continued digressions. We're over halfway through before MacArthur starts planning the Inchon operation; the landing itself takes up less than 15 minutes.

Like a bad disaster movie, Inchon insists on cramming facile "human elements" between explosions. Major Hallsworth carries on with a feisty Korean girl (Karen Khan) when not providing exposition. Sergeant Henderson does little besides drive a jeep and, in one scene, a motorcycle. These bozos are tight with MacArthur, who dragoons them into an 11th hour commando mission. Meanwhile, Barbara's out shopping when the invasion begins. Later she drives five orphans through an air raid, all while whining about traffic. Damn those Reds for inconveniencing her antiquing!

Finally, Inchon fails the most important test: action. Terence Young directed several James Bond flicks, but you wouldn't know it watching Inchon. The big battles mix stock footage with phony special effects and laughable staging. In several scenes, extras go flying from explosions that haven't detonated yet! Some set pieces feature thousands of extras, yet still manage to look cheap. The Medveds report that psychic Jeanne Dixon advised Moon to hire Young, after consultation with MacArthur's ghost. Begging the question: what God was Moon invoking, exactly?

Laurence Olivier invites the easiest criticism. He's not helped by a script that conceives MacArthur as a humble soldier rather than history's charismatic warmonger. But Olivier deserves much of the blame. Physically, his makeup less recalls MacArthur than Boris Karloff's Mummy. Then there's his accent, sounding like W.C. Fields and Gary Cooper's bastard son. When all else fails, Olivier shouts to God, bugs out his eyes and even shares a double-take with a bust of Caesar. Rarely has an actor put so much effort into being terrible.

Larry's co-stars fare little better. Ben Gazara and Richard Roundtree putter aimlessly around Korea, conveniently remaining at the center of events. Jacqueline Bissett's anachronistic low-cut dress provides one of Inchon's few pleasures. Playing a Korean fisherman, Toshiro Mifune is just plain embarrassing. David Janssen plays a grouchy reporter, film critic Rex Reed (!) his whiny sidekick. Gabriele Ferzetti cameos as a Turkish general. One hopes they too were paid well.

Ultimately, Inchon fascinates in the way only a truly bad movie can. Reverend Moon clearly intended this movie to sell his unique religion to the masses. Given the litany of disasters during and after production, it's safe to assume God (or Doug MacArthur's ghost) was laughing at him.