Some films arrive in a life as more than entertainment, carrying a household's shared memories along with them. Colm O'Regan, returning to a 1990s thriller he first saw on a farm, finds in it a picture of an older kind of cinema, one built on real trains, real stunts and plain storytelling. Through the story of his mother's unresolved wait for a television ending, he also reflects on how much harder it has become for anyone to vanish from view in a world of screens and sensors.
Colm O'Regan on Watching The Fugitive Like It's the 1990s, Grudges and All
She never forgave the visitor.
Mark
Why does a column about an old film start with his mother?
Mimi
Because the film is really a doorway. The real memory is the night of the final episode, when a visitor arrived and she never learned how it ended.
Mark
And she held that against the visitor for life.
Mimi
Yes, it was a rare grudge for her. He even asks the culprit, half joking, to turn themselves in.
Luke
Worth saying that this is a personal anecdote. Nothing here independently confirms the details, and it's written as comedy.
Mark
Fair. What about the blockbuster point?
Mimi
He says they're rarer now, and traces the word from wartime bombs to a rental chain going bust to big, explosive entertainment.
Luke
That's his own account of the word's history, offered in a light column, not a researched etymology. And his claim that blockbusters are rarer is an impression, not a figure.
Mark
He also says they crashed a real train.
Mimi
And that the crash site became a tourist attraction. It's part of his case for the film's practical, no-CGI action.
Luke
Again, that's his recollection. The column gives no source for it.
Mark
And the modern-day joke about drones and Nutribullets?
Mimi
Pure exaggeration, but the point stands that phones and CCTV would end the chase quickly.
Il Polso
- A man wrongly accused of murder is hunted through a landscape where every gas station, farmhouse and doghouse might hide him.
- A family's long-ago television ending was never revealed, leaving a grudge that has outlasted the mother who held it.
- Real trains crash and real stunts unfold, a kind of spectacle the columnist sees as rarer in today's cinema.
- A modern fugitive would be tracked within minutes by phones, cameras and connected kitchen appliances, and the streaming giants are now reaching into television channels.
Some films arrive in a life as more than entertainment, carrying a household's shared memories along with them. Colm O'Regan, returning to a 1990s thriller he first saw on a farm, finds in it a picture of an older kind of cinema, one built on real trains, real stunts and plain storytelling. Through the story of his mother's unresolved wait for a television ending, he also reflects on how much harder it has become for anyone to vanish from view in a world of screens and sensors.
Colm O'Regan's column opens with a question about whether we ever simply sit down and watch a film. He turns to The Fugitive, the 1990s thriller in which Harrison Ford's wrongly accused doctor runs from Tommy Lee Jones's relentless marshal. The memory of seeing its trailer on a farm in the mid-1990s brings back the family's many outbuildings, and with them a story his mother never forgot.
The film was based on a 1960s television series that took about twenty years to reach RTÉ. Even then, the family never learned how it ended. On the night of the final episode, a visitor came to the door, and the ending was lost. His mother never forgave the caller, and the secret of who it was went to her grave.
O'Regan admires the blockbuster as it used to be: fast, proper action with no CGI, a real train crashed for a scene that later became a tourist attraction. The plot is simple, with a good guy, a bad guy and a man doing his job. He jokes that today a drone and a connected blender would have found Kimble within half an hour. He closes by noting Netflix's move into TV channels, which he thinks could work, provided there's a plus one.
Colm O'Regan's column starts with a question that sounds odd until you think about it: have you ever just sat down and watched a film? He then turns to The Fugitive, the 1990s thriller in which Harrison Ford plays a fugitive named Doctor Richard Kimble and Tommy Lee Jones plays, in his words, Tommy Lee Jones.
He quotes the film's best-known line, the order for a hard target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in the area. O'Regan watched the trailer on a farm in the mid-1990s, and he notes that his family had nearly every one of those buildings.
The film brought back memories, and the first was of his mother's very rare grudge. The Fugitive is based on a 1960s television series, which took about 20 years to arrive on RTÉ. Even then, the family did not know how the story ended. They weren't reading the New York Times' TV reviews, and the ending didn't turn up in letters from American cousins. On the night of the final episode, a visitor called to the house. In O'Regan's telling, that was it. His mother never found out whether Richard Kimble was cleared, and she never forgave the caller. She had a higher opinion of the one-armed man, the series' villain. She took the secret of the visitor's identity to her grave, and O'Regan now asks that person to turn themselves in.
He then moves to the blockbuster itself, and The Fugitive was a Big Film with Big Names, a kind of picture he says is rarer now. The word originally described huge bombs dropped in World War 2, big enough to destroy whole neighbourhoods, or to bust a block. It later came to mean a video rental company that went bust, and then a huge, impactful, explosive book, film or theatre production.
He can see why people queued round the block for it. The action was fast and proper, with no CGI. When the plot called for a train crash, the makers crashed a real train, and the site later became a tourist attraction.
It is, he says, a simple film, with a good guy, a bad guy and a guy who just wants to do his job. Not much time is spent on character development.
O'Regan jokes that the plot wouldn't work today. With phones, CCTV and the Internet of Things, Kimble would be taken out by an AI drone within half an hour of escaping the jail bus, his location given away by a nearby Bluetooth-enabled Nutribullet. The characters of the 1990s had no such worries. Harrison Ford only had to stay out of Tommy Lee Jones's reach.
He closes with a passing note that Netflix is apparently bringing out TV channels, which he thinks could take off, so long as there's a plus one.
Citazioni salienti
A hard target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse, and doghouse in that area.— Tommy Lee Jones's character in The Fugitive, quoted by Colm O'Regan
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