Spies Like Us
The so called âCold Warâ of the 1980s was a strange time to live in, as even though our people and culture were always vibrant and full of life, all of us actually knowingly and constantly lived under the perceived threat of a possible all out nuclear holocaust due to the never ending âarms raceâ between the U.S.A. and The Soviet Union, helped along no doubt by the somewhat misperception that our Russian counterparts were a nation of faceless, soulless, atheist cretins who would have loved even the slightest opportunity to have wiped us off the planet so that Communism could rule the world with its supposed âbetterâ way of life, even if a decade of tough talk ended with both Glasnost and more importantly, the revelation that the Soviet nuclear technology was so inept that they never could actually have taken us if a missile shooting war had broken out. The influence on much of our cinema output during this time was profound, ranging from oblique references here and there to sometimes sickeningly cautionary films like The Day After, Testament, and Threads (of which the graphic, downbeat nature of said films often revealed the sometimes twisted neuroses of the filmmakers involved). But sometimes, it would all get to be so much that the only thing a sane person really could do is just to laugh at it, and in 1985, renowned comedy director John Landis would do just that, thus creating an 80s version of what Kubrick had done over 20 years earlier with his Dr. Strangelove. Now granted, this film was a LOT broader in its comedy than Kubrickâs masterwork had been, but itâs interesting in the way that both films manage to depict unscrupulous generals who fabricate a reason to start a nuclear war with Russia simply because of their own deep hatred of Communism and supposed love of the âAmerican way of lifeâ. In order to do so here, that means that spies must be sent inside of Russia so that they can unknowingly launch a Russian missile for a âfirst strikeâ, and to help them remain undetected, that means that two (very) expendable âdecoysâ must also go in to bumble around and draw the enemy away from the actual spies. Where to find such men? Well, time to start looking at some lower end government employees. Which brings us to Chevy Chase, still maybe the hottest comedy star in the world at that time, and while he might not have had the perfect 80s comedy batting average that Eddie Murphy had, itâs important to note that Chase had a much more prodigious output during that decade than did Murphy, starring in any number of films that bombed right out of theaters quickly while at the same time still putting out a large number of big hits as well, with this entry easily qualifying as his all time most underrated effort. Here he plays Emmett Fitz-Hume, a lower end assistant press secretary / diplomat just barely employed by The State Department who runs D level press conferences concerning trivial department matters and has taken fucking around in the workplace to nearly unprecedented heights (including fucking around with his hot, blond supervisor). Also in the mix is Austin Millbarge (co-writer Dan Aykroyd), who personifies the classic egghead Aykroyd archetype as being one of those guys who works down in the dungeon like basement area beneath The Pentagon, and whose job seems to be to crack codes like a wiz of mostly boring, rudimentary conversations between foreign nationals all while knowing that he is purposely being kept down from advancing anywhere further than this in his career. Again, Aykroyd does impressive work on both the acting AND writing fronts, showing that vast creative intelligence he was once known for to come up with this story and still be able to make it hang together, and also (Doctor Detroit being the one notable exception) displaying the unusual anomaly of despite having always been thought of as being an SNL Legend, usually being at his best acting-wise when teamed up with another major comedy co-star, whether it be with Chase here or with Belushi in The Blues Brothers or with the famed ensemble from Ghostbusters, Aykroyd somehow always seems to work best when playing off of someone else. After these two misfits are both caught hilariously cheating on a Foreign Service exam, they are then deemed to be âtwo bullshit artistsâ who have been sliding along on a government payday for far too long, leading to them being recruited by two CIA men (Bruce Davison and William Prince), led to believe that they will now be real spies, and then put through a shortened yet hysterical training program by a no nonsense Colonel played by Bernie Casey. Then itâs just a matter of locking them in a crate and dropping them somewhere into the middle of Pakistan, all while giving them no clue whatsoever of what their actual mission is and hoping that the enemy can pick them off quickly and then relax so that the actual operatives can successfully carry out their mission. But of course Chase and Aykroyd use both their wits and pure dumb luck to hang in there until the bitter end, with both men getting laughs while masquerading as doctors in an Afghan tribal village, faking their way through a surgery while Chase falls hard for a beautiful female doctor (Donna Dixon, Aykroydâs wife, with Aykroydâs looks of disgust at Chase romancing her being unintentionally funny), plus a (very) sudden surprise cameo playing golf, various escapes and shootouts with both the Afghanis and Russians, all before finally making it to the intended objective and learning their true (insane) purpose: to launch a Russian nuclear missile at American soil while the safely bunkered down generals at home can merely âtestâ their brand spanking new Star Wars laser missile defense system, only to completely miss their intended target, put their feet up, and then look forward to resigning themselves through World War III solely out of sheer arrogance. A depressing conclusion to be sure (but one that was reshot to be a happier ending), but still some of the epithets out of the mouth of the gung ho right wing American general in charge (Steve Forrest) have some real satirical bite to them, and also reinforces some dated stereotypical thoughts of the era, most notably the âReagan was just a doddering old man and ex movie actor who hadnât the faintest clue of actually what was going the hell onâ dynamic, but there is also some decent comic humanization of the Soviet characters, most notably a gorgeous Russian snow bunny (Vanessa Angel) who manages to steal Aykroydâs heart. As for Landis, he was always noted for having unusual cameos in his films, and here he compiles one of the most notorious rosters of âHollywood insidersâ for various tiny bit parts, many of whom were writers and directors themselves, including Frank Oz, Terry Gilliam, Costa-Gavras, Ray Harryhausen (really?), Derek Meddings, Joel Coen, Sam Raimi, Michael Apted, B.B. King, Larry Cohen, and Martin Brest. As for Chase and Aykroyd, their chemistry is smooth, funny, and fluid, with Chevy playing the sometimes horny fool who literally takes nothing seriously while Aykroydâs smart guy who always figures out a way is usually the one who saves both of their asses when they get into trouble, but their schtick of always acting (and sometimes fighting) like two overgrown kids makes the both of them even more endearing and shows just exactly why the best 80s comedies (especially with SNL legends) could always appeal across the board to almost every demographic despite (or maybe because of) the occasional use of adult themed humor, even as strangely enough this film has seemed to slip through the cracks for many, including for those who appreciate the decade of the 80s for what it was, but its severely underrated tendencies along with its oftentimes sparks of true comedic genius lends itself as being something that should be penciled in by all movie comedy lovers as both a time capsule of its era and as a successfully realized team up between two of the best comedy stars of all time to ever come out of SNL back when being a part of THAT particular show actually represented something that was seen as being a badge of honorâŚ
9/10