So here’s another widely respected classic that seems more than a little problematic to me. There’s much here that I really liked—the intro airport sequence is brilliantly put together: following our protagonist Billy Hayes as he attempts to smuggle 2kg of hashish out of Turkey; sweat beading down his forehead, heartbeat audibly thudding in his chest, trying his best to allay suspicion as he makes his way tentatively through customs. It’s a super tense and slickly orchestrated sequence that hooks the viewer’s attention and sets the scene really well. The film’s score is also fantastic—a pulsating series of synthesised compositions from Italian virtuoso Giorgio Moroder, who already by this point in 1978 was pioneering the “high energy” EDM sounds that would soon become synonymous with the early 1980s. His hit “The Chase” (used, unsurprisingly, in a chase sequence here) is truly iconic, and instantly recognisable; a tune that I had wrongly always associated with the 80s without even realising its true origins.But beyond these elements, I really struggled with much of the remaining content of the film. As soon as Hayes is arrested and thrown in a Turkish slammer, things get extremely tough to watch, but for all the wrong reasons. The portrayal of just about every Turkish character here is pretty damn abhorrent. They are shown to be either farcical caricatures who exist purely to be laughed at; unsophisticated buffoons whose only pastimes are mud wrestling and spitting on things; or vile, sneering authority figures who exist solely to be loathed and to embody the “pure evil” that has so cruelly incarcerated our young white protagonist—a naive and clumsy fool who thought he could cheat the system, but who does little here to truly earn our sympathies. All of the non-white roles are excruciatingly stereotyped, without a single shred of good in them to be found. To me, this can only be construed as the work of close-minded, ignorant filmmakers.But not only is the thing racist, it’s also just not very good. Despite all the screen time our protagonist Billy gets, he’s pretty poorly fleshed out as a character, and Brad Davis’ performance is erratic at best. Of the supporting roles, John Hurt justifiably stands out, but even he over-eggs it much of the time. The script, I thought, wasn’t particularly worthy either. The whole thing is just so irrepressibly grim and bleak, with nothing profound or of any real note to say. Yes, Billy Hayes was a fool, and he arguably didn’t deserve the harsh sentence or the treatment he was handed, but neither did the people of Turkey at the hands of these filmmakers, either. I haven’t even got to the film’s horribly indelicate portrayal of those with mental illnesses—an uneducated mix of people staggering about like zombies, wailing incessantly, and singing madly while playing the fiddle. It’s horrifying to witness. If the real Billy Hayes himself told the press that the film did a complete disservice to the Turkish people, there really can be no doubt about the film’s failings.
