That noted action hero Ben Gazzara is on the trail of that noted terrorist E.G. Marshall, who wants to dose the Republican National Convention with nerve gas (hey, who doesn’t?), in the made-for-TV curiosity Pursuit.
I say “curiosity” because it’s directed by Michael Crichton, who manages to make every book he writes a megahit, but whose directorial career peaked with Westworld. Gazzara’s chase — a pursuit, if you will — of Marshall isn’t all that compelling, even if the 24-ish onscreen countdown clock suggests otherwise. Its themes still resonate today, even if the fashions don’t. The final scene is laughable in its inert cheapness. —Rod Lott
But then the games begin, and Deathsport kicks into higher gear, as our two heroes are given swords and forced to participate in a gladiatorial-style showdown wherein they’re pursued by souped-up-with-welded-metal motorcycles that make the same cartoony sound each and every time they swoop by.
Coinciding is the arrival of a busload (literally, a busload!) of teenagers in their swimsuits, shaking their tailfeathers to the groovy tunes of the Bobby Fuller Four, who experience seizure-like jerks as they perform. A MILFy Nancy Sinatra is among the bunch, and she belts out a number of her own. There’s a plant among the teens in the form — and oh, what a form! — of Quinn O’Hara as Sinestra, a curvy, busty, nearsighted redhead who plots to kill one of the young men on the hunt for the treasure. What is it about attempted murder that makes for lighthearted comedy?
