Capricorn One (1977)

Charles Brubaker (James Brolin), Peter Willis (Sam Waterston) and John Walker (O.J. Simpson) are the crew of the first manned mission to Mars. Or rather, they are supposed to be, for just before launch, a couple of gentlemen in suits drag them out of their capsule and transport them to some hidden base out in the desert.

There, the Mars project’s architect, Dr Kelloway (Hal Holbrook), explains to the men that some last minute checks on the capsule have uncovered some catastrophic material flaws that would have turned disastrous for them as well as the mission. Because there’s supposedly no true political backing for something like manned space flights anymore, Kelloway and some other powers that be have decided not to disclose the problems to anyone, but to instead fake the Mars landing. Obviously, he needs the help of the astronauts to produce this hoax.

They, on the other hand, think Kelloway and whoever is backing him have gone crazy. The scientist, however, is very quick with threatening the lives of the men’s families, so they grudgingly accede to his demands. Particularly Brubaker is only waiting on a moment or a way to somehow turn the tables, but for now, there’s a Mars landing to fake.

During the months the astronauts are involved in this, muck-raking - but not terribly successful at it - reporter Robert Caulfield (Elliott Gould) stumbles upon hints that suggest something strange is going on with the Mars project, though he can’t really figure out what kind of strangeness at all. Fortunately, the conspirators are so heavy-handed in their approach to any perceived threat, they attempt to murder him early on. Caulfield being the kind of guy he is, he is bound to see that as prove that something particularly shady is going on and will get at the truth somehow.

Peter Hyams’s Capricorn One is certainly one of the more peculiar examples of the 70s conspiracy thriller, with a plot that moves the generally at least somewhat down to Earth sub-genre not just towards the really rather implausible but the outright absurd. Attempting to understand the logistics and plans of the Mars fakers is an obvious way to traditional Lovecraftian madness, and while there’s certainly the genre-typical criticism of Power, Secrecy and their misuse, and a couple of perfect moments of paranoia, in many ways this more of a romp than any other film of its sub-genre.

I’m not complaining about that, mind you, for Hyams’s flights of fancy – sometimes even whimsy – here are generally gloriously entertaining and tend to lead to one of the director’s patented go-for-broke action sequences. Capricorn One may not be great as a deep criticism of the military-industrial complex, but absolutely makes up for it with sequences like the climactic biplane versus helicopters chase through desert and canyons. Because that scene clearly wasn’t crazy enough, the filmmakers decided to put Brolin (well, his stuntman) on the biplane’s wing while it flies loops and destroys modern helicopters. And because that’s yet still not crazy enough, the plane is piloted by a scenery chewing Telly Savalas who just pops into the film for the final act.

Particularly in Gould’s plotline, Hyams appears to have a lot of fun with just letting his actors patter through probably at least in part improvised dialogue that finds the midpoint between old Hollywood homage and sheer bizarreness and dances a merry little jig on it. Gould is, even by his standards, particularly gleeful in these sequences, so they turn into the sort of joyful little cinematic gems you can’t believe actually made it into the final cut of a film so well-made, and are all the more wonderful for it. Just watch the “I don’t like you” scene between Gould and his editor – or the bizarre flirting scenes between Gould and Karen Black – and become happy for at least the next hundred years.

That all of this actually somewhat works as a straightforward thriller as well is thanks to Hyams’s gift for the great action scene, as well as how cleverly he leaves all the weird stuff to Gould and co, whereas Brolin, Waterston and Simpson are left to play everything straight, the two plotlines only converging at the late point when a viewer has either bought into the whole thing, or, sad creature, already left the film in a huff.