by Frank Calvillo
I can’t believe I’ve gone as long as I have without knowing of 1973’s Scorpio, which for me has risen to a place very near the top of the spy movie food chain. While most films dealing in high stakes espionage tend to overstylize (sometimes to the point of ridiculousness) what spy life is like, Scorpio is one of the few which actually dares to examine the price that’s paid for such a life.
In Scorpio, Agent Cross (Burt Lancaster) has enjoyed a long career as one of the CIA’s top assassins, who has, for the last few years, been assigned to work with freelance operative Jean “Scorpio” Laurier (Alain Delon) on a number of jobs, and as a result has become something of a mentor to him. When Cross’ boss assigns Laurier the job of killing Cross after it has been supposedly proven that the latter has been selling top secret information, a highly intense international cat-and-mouse chase kicks off between the two men.
Scorpio was directed by Michael Winner, one of the most eternally underrated directors of his generation. The British-born Winner made his share of cheese fests, yet also proved himself to a be a capable and versatile storyteller with an array of films as varied as can be. It’s not everyone who can go from demonic horror with The Sentinel to Agatha Christie with Appointment with Death, to farcical comedy with A Chorus of Disapproval, while directing everyone from Marlon Brando to Lauren Bacall in the process.
What made Winner such a marvelous director was the fact that he was also an editor; a trait he exercised on his own films, and showed in full glory throughout Scorpio. The film is loaded with quick and well-executed shots, such as a plane landing in Washington, a close up of a gun in a drawer that zooms out to Lancaster removing it, and a shot of Delon in the dimly lit jail cell. All are so expertly done and beautiful to watch that it almost becomes easy to get lost in them, and, though seemingly irrelevant, makes Scorpio even more enthralling than it already is. The endless amount of cuts may overwhelm some, but for a film of this story and genre, they’re practically essential. A director such as Winner never lets himself get lost in editing, however, as the director makes sure that the film’s most significant moments are given appropriate room to breathe and that the actors’ performances are never shortchanged.
As a piece of ’70s espionage entertainment, a person would be hard-pressed to find one as potent as Scorpio. Yes, there are the usual tropes that are requirements of all films of this kind, but the manic and pulsating energy that the cast and crew infuse into Scorpio greatly elevates it. So many elements within Scorpio seem self-evident, yet are seeped in great secrecy, especially the beyond excellent twist featuring a minor character, which is almost impossible to see coming. With all of this going for it, its almost impossible not to be pulled into the movie from the first few minutes and stay that way until the final reel.
In the end, the element which sets Scorpio apart from the crowd is the way the film delves into the personal relationships between spies. While most films treat such an idea as almost non-existent, here the interrelations between agents are portrayed as a sort of unspoken brotherhood. “I don’t play the game when the rules are bent,” states Laurier when being confronted about his assignment to kill Cross. “No one bends them faster than Cross,” replies his superior, to which Laurier counters, “Never with me.” The scene when Jean and Cross meet in the conservatory after both know the score is telling is electrifying in both its set up and its sub-text. You almost get the feeling that the relationship between the two plays out like one lover who is scorned and another who feels betrayed. The secrets Cross is supposed to have stolen are not terribly interesting and virtually fade from memory once the audience realizes that its the relationship between the two that Scorpio is all about.
With the exception of 1980’s Atlantic City, Scorpio proves to be Lancaster’s last great role. Appropriately, the actor plays his character like he’s seen it all, to the point where even his own assassination attempt doesn’t shock him. The acting legend’s performance fits the character’s personality to a T as he remains calm and cool throughout most of Scorpio. Also, though he’s over 50, watching Lancaster doing his own stunts during the incredible third act chase sequence is impressive. He’s so well-matched with the younger Delon, who likewise brings a version of cool and calculating to his role as the CIA’s new star. I’ve always loved it when actors of different backgrounds and generations are paired together and the unusual blend of acting styles that erupt as a result.
Some may want to dismiss Scorpio as just another genre entry, which though entertaining, has nothing new to say. How wrong I feel they are! For me, Scorpio delves into the very essence of what being a spy means, from the orders a person must follow to how it affects the lives of those around them. More than that though, it shows that loyalty will always be fleeting and that there are no certainties to the life of a spy. As Cross so plainly states at the film’s end, “The only rule is to stay in the game.”
The Package
The release of Scorpio includes an interesting commentary from film historians Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman. While the two don’t necessarily hate the film, it clearly isn’t their favorite title in the genre. That being said, the two offer up some fascinating background on Winner and some interesting trivia regarding the film, such as how the title was changed from Danger Field to its current one after it was discovered that the director and two main stars were all Scorpios, and the film’s unusual connection to the Watergate scandal.
The Lowdown
Energetic cuts, a tantalizing score, a crackling story and fantastic performances all work to make Scorpio one of the best spy films of its era.
