Midnight Express
When is it that the issue of staunch political correctness clashes with that of very real legitimate human rights issues? When a race of people that are known for the torture and abuse of their prisoners suddenly find privileged types coming to their aid over what is being perceived as their negative stereotyping in a story that is intended to draw attention to just those exact types of abuses that they are indeed guilty of? That is the continuing lure of this 1978 film by Alan Parker, certainly one of the most eclectic and underrated directors in the recent history of cinema, working from a script from the unfathomably talented Oliver Stone, still working his way up the Hollywood ladder at that point but nonetheless already considered a genius for what was said to be an incredible, near perfect first draft here. The story is based on the real life story of Billy Hayes, an American college student who for little more than shits and giggles, decided to attempt to smuggle a little bit of hash with him at the Turkish Airport onto a plane bound for the U.S.A., only to get caught red handed while doing so and then embarking on a 5 year nightmare that only ended when he managed to escape and cross the border into Greece. The fact that Hayes (whom to this day STILL has a standing warrant for his arrest should he ever return to Turkey) was indeed guilty of his crime and not at all wrongfully convicted is what draws the first line in the sand for some people who believe that any special treatment and recognition that he had gotten solely because of the fact that he was an American is just audacity of the first order, even as we look at our own society being as overincarcerated as it currently is with ridiculous sentences being handed out for marijuana possession. Hayes is played in the film by Brad Davis, a true Hollywood one hit wonder for his own reasons, having won a Golden Globe for his role here, who then saw his career potential disintegrate into nothing for having a propensity for playing in 80s gay themed movies, when in reality he was actually bisexual, married with a wife and kid, and had contracted HIV / AIDS by his own claims through heavy intravenous drug use, leading to his death in 1991 at age 41 through the use of assisted suicide when living with the disease just became too much for him to bear. But here, in the one (and only) role that made him a major star, Davis carries things just as well as youâd might expect, curling up into a ball while enduring the more harsh, brutal moments, and exhibiting volumes of rage during others such as his extremely gruesome revenge on a prison snitch or when blasting the people of his forcefully adopted country in a powerfully angry courtroom speech. Davis as Hayes is first seen taping the hash to his lower body before arriving at the airport sweating like a pig and acting so nervous that he sticks out like a sore thumb even before being arrested while the Turkish police hail his apprehension as them âdoing their partâ to combat the illegal drug trade all while he looks on in wonder while a commanding officer slaps his men around instead of commending them. Then he meets Bo Hopkins as a shady yet congenial American rep of some kind who never gives his name nor identify where heâs from (which might possibly mean the CIA). Then Hayes makes his second major blunder: offered amnesty by Hopkins if he IDâs the dealer that he bought the hash from, he uses it as an opportunity to make a break for it, being chased through the streets of Istanbul before finally being apprehended by his fellow American Hopkins in one of the most disgusting acts of pandering by an American to a foreign government ever seen in cinema. From there itâs on to the infamous Turkish prison, a frightening and foreign world to Hayes filled with people speaking in tongues he doesnât understand and overseen by one of the most menacing villains (and actors) in movie history in Paul Smithâs Hamidou, a sadistic bastard who on Hayesâ first night brutally beats him for stealing a blanket and then rapes him, with Smith (actually an American born Israeli actor) making such a formidable impression that he went on to nail the role of Bluto opposite Robin Williams as Popeye and other fearsome roles. But Hayes does find some comfort among the cadre of American (or rather native English speaking) prisoners who are in there with him, including Randy Quaid (as crazy as always) as a guy constantly obsessing about escaping the prison even if it means his life, Norbert Weisser as a more sensitive Swedish type, and John Hurt (nominated for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar here) as the nearly broken older man who literally clings to his pillow, his cat, and his drug addiction to help get him through the day. As the bond of their support group grows, Hayes finds himself horrified not so much by what happens to him but rather by what he OBSERVES happening to others around him, like when some boys are brought in from the juvenile ward to be punished and Hamidou makes it a point to come in ON HIS DAY OFF (wearing a suit and tie and with his two young sons in tow) to brutally flog the juveniles as a way of sending a message to his own boys as they look on, and of course the continually worse and worse beatings being sustained by Quaid for failing to keep a low profile on his activities and drawing too much unwanted attention. Meanwhile, he receives visits from his father (character actor Mike Kellin, who ended his career in undignified fashion as an old pedo camp counselor in Sleepaway Camp), an American embassy rep (Michael Ensign), a fat pompous Turkish defense attorney who despite being a âlocalâ keeps making vague promises of the various ways that heâs going to âget him offâ without really doing much of anything for him, and most tragically, his lost girlfriend (Irene Miracle) who in one of the most heartwrenching scenes in movie history, comes to visit him and tries to make him happy despite seeing him in the almost bestial state heâs now become. Finally, after endless promises of appeals, amnestys, and negotiations go on for nearly 5 years (coupled with the overzealous anti drug Turkish judicial system greatly extending his original sentence), Hayes comes to the realization that there is only one way out, and that is through escape before crossing the border into Greece, and that doing so requires smart, innovative thinking while not drawing lots of attention like Quaid had done. And despite the sensitive claims of certain people whom had never even spent a day in this countryâs correctional system decrying the filmâs âtreatmentâ of the Turkish people by portraying them as sadistic animals with no traditional sense of the nature of mercy, itâs funny how these same people might not realize that the release of this film so much ashamed the Turkish government that at the time they immediately started negotiating to start doing prisoner exchanges with the American and other Western governments (no doubt to reduce the number of outsiders they were holding who had similar stories to tell), and even Oliver Stone (in true liberal fashion) 25 years later actually went so far as to formally apologize to the people and government of Turkey for the role that his (Oscar winning) script played in casting a negative light upon their country. But what Stone and so many others might fail to realize is that the number of countries (civilized and otherwise) that regularly engage to this day in human rights abuses when it comes to their prisoners is certainly a major problem that goes well beyond just Turkey and that spotlighting this overall issue in the context of this one particular story was certainly both Hayesâ and Parkerâs intents, something that they accomplished extremely well, because sometimes the strong element of shame in the eyes of the world is the only way to bring real change to a society (provided that it is real and not manufactured) and while some might argue that the harsh conditions in these prison systems definitely do NOT encourage repeat offenders, the judgment of ourselves in how we treat our fellow human beings no matter what they may have done might just be the most important judgment of them all, and if only political correctness were a thing of the past, the reality of actual important issues and situations might possibly be seen just a little bit clearerâŚ
9/10