killer elite

Catalog releases of studio classics have officially become a niche product. So where does that leave titles like The Killer Elite (1975), which, despite being directed by Sam Peckinpah, don’t qualify for the sort of classic status that would demand a hi-def release of any kind? It’s actually a perfect fit for Twilight Time’s limited edition business model, delivering 3000 copies into the hands of collector’s and then gifting them with a true rarity in the form Peckinpah’s Noon Wine, a 1966 TV production never before available on any home video format.

The Killer Elite fits nicely amongst the covert conspiracy films that seemed to propagate in the post-Watergate era. But the complicated plot, which involves a CIA shadow company hired to protect defecting foreign diplomats while on American soil, is so much smoke and mirrors. The only narrative thread that matters is the one involving Mike Locken (James Caan) and George Hansen (Robert Duvall), former agents and partners now playing on opposite sides of the field.

The opening double-cross leaves Locken with a shattered arm and knee, forced to rehab himself into a position to get revenge against Hansen and his new boss…who might be the same as the old boss. Subterfuge and misdirection are definitely not the film’s forte. After a strong opening that follows Locken’s single-minded goal to get back into the game, enhancing his skills with some martial arts to boot, the story spins its wheels waiting for Duvall’s character to return and provide some closure.

There are some shootouts, car chases and set-ups along the way, culminating in the slow-motion ballet of violence that became Peckinpah’s signature after The Wild Bunch, all beautifully shot by DP Philip Lathrop who makes excellent use of San Francisco landmarks and a fleet of retired Navy warships. But these set pieces, as impressive as they are technically, come across as lukewarm concessions to the spy formula. And the addition of some very easily dispatched ninjas (Burt Young tosses one off the side of the boat like an old cigar!) only makes things seem more desperate. Yet James Caan’s reliably understated performance hints at a better, more character-driven film underneath it all if only the stars had aligned.

That’s what at the heart of Noon Wine, which aired as part of ABC’s short-lived Stage 67 TV series, starring Jason Robards and Olivia de Havilland. The critical praise for this episode earned Peckinpah another shot at the big screen, which led to 1968’s The Wild Bunch. Very stagey in terms of performance and shot in a combination of film and video, Noon Wine shows Peckinpah could shepherd a more emotionally complex story with equal skill. The standard-definition dub isn’t perfect, but appears for the first time outside of a museum or film archive. It’s importance in Peckinpah’s catalog of work is explained in fine fashion on the accompanying audio commentary by film historian Paul Seydor, Garner Simmons and Nick Redman who also provide the same insights for the main feature. Extras for The Killer Elite include a vintage Making Of wrapped inside of a 30-minute standard-def Peckinpah retrospective along with a still gallery, trailers, TV spots and introductory liner notes.