by Erin Free
In this regular column, we drag forgotten made-for-TV movies out of the vault and into the light. This week: the 1974 crime drama The Death Squad, starring Robert Forster, Claude Akins, Michelle Phillips and Melvyn Douglas.
The 1970s telemovie had a sometimes nasty habit of blatantly ripping off big screen movies and repurposing their themes, ideas and even plots for the small screen. There were disaster movies (1976’s Smash-Up On Interstate 5, 1976’s Flood!, 1977’s Fire!), Deliverance lifts (1975’s Death Stalk), Carrie clones (1977’s The Spell, 1978’s The Initiation Of Sarah), The Exorcist rips (1977’s The Possessed), and Jaws retreads (1977’s Snowbeast), just to name a few.
One of the boldest and most direct acts of small screen robbery, however, came in 1974 with the gritty crime drama The Death Squad, which basically executes a play-by-play steal from 1973’s Magnum Force, the follow-up to the 1971 Clint Eastwood-starring smash hit Dirty Harry. Without question one of the best – and most underrated – sequels of all time, Magnum Force is certainly worth stealing from, and The Death Squad pulls the job like a master thief, proving that you don’t necessarily have to be original to be good.
Because while its plot and thematic concerns are painfully derivative and easily traceable to their source, The Death Squad still manages to be not just good, but very good. At a tight and trim 75 minutes, and with strong execution from the prolific TV stalwarts (director Harry Falk and writers Ronald Austin and James D. Buchanan have a mass of episodic and telemovie credits to their collective names) behind the camera, this grim crime drama grips from its stark opening right through to its uncompromising conclusion.
The Death Squad opens excitingly in a courtroom and right in the middle of the action, as a smirking, plainly guilty crook is let off on a technicality by a rueful, regretfully hands-tied judge. In the next scene, the no-longer-smirking crook is roused from sleep by two big bruisers, dragged into the street, and promptly executed. We soon learn that said big bruisers are hard-bitten cops Brennan (Claude Akins) and Hartman (Kenneth Tobey), and that they are part of a “death squad” of police officers killing off criminals who have slipped through the court system via legal loopholes. The anxious powers-that-be want the cop-sourced vigilante action to stop, and they bring upstanding ex-cop Eric Benoit (Robert Forster) – bundled off the job for going too hard on a protected crook – back onto the force to investigate.
Yep, pretty much the only thing missing is Clint Eastwood and his .44 Magnum, but The Death Squad still works exceptionally well on its own modest but unhalting terms. There is an admirable terseness to the tough-guy dialogue from writers Ronald Austin and James D. Buchanan, which has an enjoyably spare, almost crime-fiction feel to it. Director Harry Falk’s smooth, mobile camera moves keep things moving while never drawing attention to themselves, and the score by eventual star composer Dave Grusin (who would go on to become director Sydney Pollack’s go-to music man, as well as the creator of a long list of superior movie scores) is a jazzy lounge-funk wonder.
The casting and performances are all top-notch. The late, great Robert Forster – the star of cult faves like Reflections In A Golden Eye (1967), Medium Cool (1969), The Black Hole (1979), Alligator (1980) and Vigilante (1982); a late-career comeback king courtesy of Quentin Tarantino in 1997’s Jackie Brown; and an unforgettable player in the mesmeric TV series Breaking Bad – is in characteristically commanding form as the compromised Eric Benoit, effectively getting under the skin of this taciturn cop under pressure. Never one for histrionics, Forster underplays with incredible skill, hinting at the boiling mess of contradictions that drive his character. It’s a fine example of the strong work Forster did in his many telemovies, adding immeasurable class and gravitas to the likes of The City (1977), Standing Tall (1978) and The Darker Side Of Terror (1979), along with his multiple episodes on the great Police Story.
Forster gets rock-solid support from a cast of reliable character actors, with hard-working Claude Akins a particular joy as a boozy, nasty cop with a world-weary sense of nihilism. 1970s regular Kenneth Tobey (a prick of note in Billy Jack) provides great back-up as Akins’ partner, while Melvyn Douglas (who gets a great soliloquy as Forster’s older, sickly cop mentor), George Murdock (as Forster’s supportive but compromised superior officer), Lost In Space’s Mark Goddard (as a conflicted beat cop), Stephen Young (as a straight-arrow precinct boss) and Macon County Line star Jesse Vint (as a shady drug squad cop) are all excellent, bringing great colour and depth to their characters. Former Mamas And The Papas singer and actress Michelle Phillips brings much warmth and fragility (and her obvious extraordinary beauty) to her minor role of a potential romantic interest, but isn’t really given enough to do.
A tidy time capsule in its “urban panic” approach to America’s rising crime rates of the 1970s, the enjoyably down-beat The Death Squad (which boasts one of the most abrupt – but still curiously satisfying – final moments of all time) proves that crime (at least of the plagiaristic variety) can indeed pay.
Availability: The Death Squad is relatively easy to find online in a very clear, nice-sounding presentation.
If you enjoyed this review, check out our other vintage telemovies Hit Lady, Brian’s Song, The Defiant Ones, A Cry For Help, Trilogy Of Terror, Policewoman Centerfold, Smash-Up On Interstate 5, Something Evil, Savage, A Step Out Of Line, The Boy In The Plastic Bubble, The Dirty Dozen: Next Mission, A Very Brady Christmas, The Gladiator, Elvis, The Rat Pack, Silent Victory: The Kitty O’Neil Story, Terror Among Us, The Hanged Man, Hardcase, Charlie’s Angels: Angels In Vegas, Vanishing Point, To Heal A Nation, Fugitive Among Us, To Kill A Cop, Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, Police Story: A Chance To Live, Murder On Flight 502, Moon Of The Wolf, The Secret Night Caller, Cotton Candy, And The Band Played On, Gargoyles, Death Car On The Freeway, Short Walk To Daylight, Trapped, Hotline, Killdozer, The Jericho Mile, Mongo’s Back In Town and Tribes.
