Against All Odds

Remember when film crews actually went on location to film scenes in exotic places? It made the escapist, armchair tourism aspects of going to the movies so much more enjoyable. One of the most beautifully photographed location pictures of 1984 was Taylor Hackford's too-slick-for-its-own good quasi-remake of Jacques Tourneur’s legendary 1947 film noir Out of the Past. But there is almost nothing of Daniel Mainwaring's source novel, Build My Gallows High, in this soft-erotic sunshine-noir. Jeff Bridges takes on the Robert Mitchum role, revisioned as an injured former professional football player in need of money, who is hired by a gambler and nightclub owner to locate a missing woman. James Woods, at his most sexy-sleazy, plays the role originated by Kirk Douglas, while Rachel Ward takes the femme fatale role that made a star out of Jane Greer (who also has a small part in this movie along with the great old-school Hollywood villain Richard Widmark).

The film was shot in Mexico and features amazing scenery of beaches, jungles, sunsets, and the Mayan ruins of the pre-Columbian city of Chichen Itza (the first time a film production was granted permission to shoot at that historic site). This backdrop is fitting since the actors in this picture are some of the most beautiful of the mid-80s. In fact, watching the movie, you wonder if the only reason it was made at all is that Rachel Ward had become a huge sex symbol in the TV mini-series The Thorn Birds and Hackford wanted to capitalize on her celebrity. The trouble is, as gorgeous as she and the ripped young Bridges are, nothing in the script, direction, or performances makes us understand why they fall so hard for each other. Out of the Past is about an indifferent man's obsession with a beautiful, dangerous, mysterious woman. Against All Odds is about a pissed-off guy obsessed with a spoiled rich girl. It just ain't the same. The phrase, "Baby, I don't care," takes on an entirely different meaning when discussing this picture.

Vaguely remaking a stone-cold noir classic like Out of the Past is such a fool's errand that it seems silly to even credit the source material in a film like this. Plenty of '80s "in premise only" remakes were so loose that they didn't feel the need to credit the films that inspired them—Body Heat, Scarface, The Fly, The Money Pit, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Victor/Victoria, etc. This is, for all intents and purposes, an original story set in the world of professional football, gamblers, sleazy estate real deals, crooked politicians, and nightclubs where bands like Kid Creole and the Coconuts perform. None of that has anything to do with Mainwaring's book and script or Jacques Tourneur's iconic '40s picture. Against All Odds barely qualifies as an '80s neo-noir. It's more like a glossy, sexy mystery that is curiously lacking in mystery or sex appeal but has plenty of gloss. Thus, the film has long been forgotten aside from its Phil Collins title song, which was so ubiquitous throughout 1984 I probably heard it at least three times a day every day. The song has become kind of a joke as it occasionally wafts in from out of the past into modern playlists, podcasts, and This American Life episodes, but it's a solid soft-rock tune that is as enjoyable to listen to as is watching Jeff Bridges and Rachel Ward making out on sunkissed beaches with cool drinks in their hands. Perfectly pleasant. But the song is more well-crafted than the film. It has lived on. The movie has not.