Here you can read what I think about some of Sean's films. I'd love to hear any sort of feedback. I'll try to keep adding new ones on a regular basis, but it takes me a while to write them, so bear with me. Also, anyone who'd like to contribute reviews, please feel welcome!

DISCLAIMER

After many attempts at constructing similar review sections for my other actor sites, I've decided to make this a bit more fun for me. From now on, I'm going to treat this section as a "stream of consciousness" area. Another way to look at it would be a "thoughts on" page. I'm dropping the formal, straightforward review style. This is easier, quicker and much more enjoyable. Also, this will allow for updates and/or new insights to be added more often and easily. Furthermore, I'll often take the angle that the reader has already seen the films, thus allowing myself the occasional luxury of excluding constant, mundane summaries.

Robin and Marian is my favorite Sean Connery film, and one of my all time favorite movies. It's a beautiful and sorrowful look at the legend of Robin Hood (Sean Connery). His weaknesses and human frailties are laid bare at our feet, and never before has a character of near-ancient lore seems so human, so real. Robin is noble and courageous, but he is also ignorant and illiterate. He's not so sure of his destiny or his place, blindly following his king (Richard the Lionheart, played by Richard Harris) on the crusades, and, for twenty years, witnessing slaughter and atrocities of unthinkable cruelty. Looking back on his time away, what it stood for and what it meant, he ponders "I've hardly lost a battle, and yet I don't know what I've won..." Aged and disillusioned, he's unsure of his choices in life and doubts his direction and purpose now that his king is dead.

Little John (Nicol Williamson) has remained loyaly at Robin's side throughout the years, even being jailed with him when he finally defies King Richard. Without a king to serve, the two weary warriors take the only course of action they can think of, return to England...and Sherwood.

This is the basic premise, and what follows is a downbeat tale of romantic melancholy, told amid the chronicles of legend. Robin's Sherwood Forest is grown over with decades of vines and shrubs, and only small traces of the camp are still visible. His men have long since dispersed or died (except for Will Scarlett and Friar Tuck), the Sheriff (Robert Shaw) is still as powerful as ever. Much to Robin's disbeilef, Maid Marian (Audrey Hepburn) has become a member of the clergy, residing at the abbey nearby.

Robin and his remaining men are reunited, Marian is "saved" and taken to Sherwood and The Sheriff begins devising plans of capture. The tragic romance between Robin and Marian is beautifuly written and played, expertly weaving all the strands of human emotion into a mosaic of regret and longing. The chemistry between Connery and Hepbun is magical. Their's is a love so pure and human, that it's instantly rekindled by the fires of passion. Their love truly trancends all and, though there have been many women for Robin, and Marian has long since "forgotten" the flesh, it's instant, natural and achingly real. Mourning the time that's been lost between them, Robin asks "why did I ever leave?"

The classic rivalry between the Sheriff and Robin is escalated, and a fierce confrontation ensues, with Robin as the victor. However, he's mortally wounded and Marian and John escape with Robin to the abbey, where Marian administers a fatal poison to herself and Robin. Marian, realizing this was Robin's last, great victory and that he'd never recover from his wounds, proclaims that she loves him more than "one more day" and "...more than God."

Robin, at first afraid and shocked, but finally accepting the fact that he's about to die, relents, "I'd never have another day like this, would I?.... then it's better this way?" He fires a blind arrow from the window, asking John to see that they're buried close by.

All heroes are made even greater and more facinating by the legends that surround their deaths. They may be poetic and romantic, or ironic and tragic. None would be complete without, and this aspect is another integral examination in the film. All men die, and it is by this very fact that Robin is made to seem all the more human, breathing and thriving, living and dying across the gap of centuries. A grand day, singlehandedly defeating his lifelong enemy, in the presence of all his men, young and old, and before the Sheriff's army. Never to be another day like it, a perfect close to a legend. A fine death.

Very seldom does a film come along that is both original and as fully realized as Highlander. A film of celebrated "cult" status, it has risen above its initial critical disregard to a state of adoration around the world.

As with so many films that are ahead of their time, Highlander alienated many with its complex, century hopping, tale of Connor MacLeod. The definitive anti-hero, Connor is solem, dissillusioned and above all else, immortal. Christopher Lambert excells as MacLeod, and exudes an uncanny aura of verisimilitude. One easily accepts that he has lived for over 400 years. Behind his haunting gaze lie the horrors, agonies, joys and loves of his many lifetimes.

Granted, the "horrors of immortality" sub genre of sci-fi isn't unique (not now at least), but seldom has it been used as effectively. Immortality has taken its toll on our wayward warrior, such that he broods over his experiences, and remains uncertain of his place and future. There is one scene in specific, where Connor, with his gaze downward cast, lumbers, as if in a trance, towards his New York abode. Upon his arrival, he settles down with a drink in his own personal "museum," a collection of artifacts, accumulated over his many years. There, surrounded by the past, the layers of time are peeled back, exposing someplace far removed from his "present." With very little effort, one can imagine the maelstorm of thought and memories assaulting his psyche. It's a great scene, the best part being, just before the first lengthy flashback, when he seems literally, physically "jolted" by the memory, forcing itself into his consciousness.

The (sometimes notorious) flashback sequences flow naturally, and serve only to enrich the overall meaning. At no point will the attentive viewer be overwhelmed, as the transition is seamless. Contrary to the inane prattle issued by many inept reviews, these scenes are extremly clear, coherent and in every way benificial to the tale.

Sean's relatively brief role as Juan Ramirez is genuinly inspired (would you expect any less?). Having been alive since before the birth of Christ, he has lived and traveled for millinea. Having lost his one great love, almost two-thousand years prior, he seeks to save Connor from sharing a similar pain. Also, he serves as tutor and bearer of knowledge. He tells of the rules of their eternal existance, and by what means it may be led, and ended. Connery has some memorable dialouge, and the chemistry between he and Lambert is perfect.

During this, the major flashback of the film, we learn of Juan's fate, Kurgan's (the foe Ramirez tried to prepare Connor for) scarring and we see the lives of Connor and his "bonny" Heather unfold. She ages, he doesn't. As the years flash by (perhaps symbolizing the brief period of Connor's existance these years seem to fill?), Heather grows older and older, until she eventually dies in her husband's arms, filled with an unimaginable longing to stay with him, forever. Thus, his first life comes to an end. He takes Juan's sword, burns his house and buries his wife, setting out to find a new place for himself in the world.

MacLeod finds a possible love in Brinda, an astute, clever young woman, to whom he reveals his secret. However, having had only the one great love of his life, and after enduring her death, he's afraid and uncertain as to his willingness and ability to love again. Though when she's kidnapped by Kurgan, Connor must face up to his ancient adversary, ready to settle a centuries old score. There is, throughout the film, the sense that MacLeod is the "underdog," fighting to survive against a superior foe, with only "heart, faith and steel" to see him through.

Eventually triumphing over Kurgan, he gains the "prize," the total, cumulative knowledge of all the immortals that had ever lived. With this, he's sure that he'll be able to help the world to understand itself. He's granted mortality and the chance to "live and have children, to love and grow old." He returns to the highlands, "where it all began" to begin anew, with a new love and a chance at living a real life. Juan's voice reverberates through his mind, filling him with a sense of excitement and wonder towards his future. He is complete, his long battle behind him, his being filled with hope.