Misunderstood Masterpieces: The Avengers

Posted by Will Helm on 08.07.2007

…or, I Get the Feeling the Method Is Vengeance by Exposition

In the ‘60s, more thanks to Ian Fleming than anyone else, anything spy-related was all the rage worldwide. Most significantly in the James Bond films, the spy genre exploded onto the silver screen. There were others, however, like Dean Martin's swingin' Matt Helm – no relation – or James Coburn's – um – swingin' Derek Flint. And these are merely the most famous of the bloated genre, which stretched from big budget blockbusters to terrible flicks done on the cheap and exaggerating everything that made the more successful spy films what they were: mainly bullets, bombs, and babes.

Interestingly enough, the spy genre was not limited to the big screen; it also invaded the television with equal celerity. In the United States, competing series like The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and Mission: Impossible vied for viewer attention among other programs. Even in Britain, the motherland for the spy genre, programs such as Danger Man plastered the airwaves. One of the more memorable of these British programs – both in England and in the U.S. – is The Avengers. Featuring its own epitome of the suave secret agent, John Steed (portrayed by Patrick Macnee), The Avengers became most legendary for its long-time cat-suited foil for the cool, unflappable Steed, Diana Rigg's Emma Peel. Popular on both sides of the Atlantic, The Avengers ran from 1961 to 1969 and, in some ways, embodied some of the spy obsession of the era.

Surprisingly, though the series had a successful cult following as well as some inherent sexual tension, it took filmmakers more than thirty years to adapt the series to the big screen. Unfortunately for them, the wait may have been far too long for, even though the film contained a combination of big name actors and British stalwarts – since there are only so many actors in England, I'm convinced – 1998's The Avengers was a critically lambasted flop. Though, until last year's Casino Royale, the spy genre may have reached a creative nadir throughout the ‘90s, it is somewhat unbelievable that a film like The Avengers could fail; so, does that mean the film could be bad? Or is there something more . . . is it a Misunderstood Masterpiece? Let's find out!

The film, thankfully, eats into its 90 minute running time – more on that later – with a long, drawn out opening credits sequence. Perhaps the film already knows that the viewer is in for trouble and it's a last ditch effort to get out before it's too late. That's just a hunch. Anyway, I ignore the film's inherent warnings and soldier on to find the new and improved John Steed (Ralph Fiennes) strolling calmly around a stately house somewhere in the British countryside. He must not be wanted in that general vicinity as he dodges falling flowers . . . and then he beats up a cop and a hapless milkman. Look out! Steed's gone rogue! Later in Steed's little tour of the village, some mechanics get the boot . . . figuratively, not literally. Since "boot" means something hilariously related to mechanics in England. Sometimes I crack myself up. And, unsurprisingly, the whole endeavor is merely just training and Steed, presumably, passes . . . probably because otherwise he'd be dead.

After the little exercise, Steed's boss (Jim Broadbent, who's one of those British stalwarts I was referring to earlier), cleverly codenamed "Mother," is worried about something vague, particularly that a shield of some sort has gone down. It's probably just that the operating system crashed and it needs to be rebooted. I bet it runs on Windows. Meanwhile, the new and improved Emma Peel (Uma Thurman), walks around her house and then she gets an important phone call from someone telling her to meet with Steed. To that end, Peel rushes over to an exclusive men's club and, after weathering the disdain of the porter on duty, she finds Steed naked in a sauna and then they trade witty barbs about his nudity . . . or something like that. Though I do sense a running theme.

Steed and Peel then meet with Mother and, against Steed's protestations, she takes the boss' cookie. No, really. Since the shield went down – and the viewer has no idea what's going on, Mother and Peel join forces to provide tag-team exposition . . . and tea. Apparently, Peel may have sabotaged the shield that she invented, since she's not just a HOT CHICK but she's also a scientist. Mother, thinking it wise, has Steed and Peel team up in order to prove Peel's innocence . . . which makes sense in some bizarre universe. After Steed and Peel shuffle off to disprove Peel's involvement, Mother's boss (Fiona Shaw), cleverly codenamed "Father" since it's SO hilarious that "Mother" is a man and "Father" is a woman, stalks out of the shadows for no particular reason.

In a stuffy tailor shop, Peel and Steed fence with remarkably sparse amount of collateral damage while they trade exposition. After Steed is fitted for a suit, he and Peel drive off with professional transvestite Eddie Izzard watching from the wings. Apparently, Peel and Steed are off to meet some guy and, along the way, Steed provides yet more exposition. Ah . . . there's nothing like the excitement of exposition! According to Steed, their quarry is obsessed with the weather, mainly because his parents were and they had the audacity to name him "August de Wynter." Poor guy; no wonder he's a villain. Oops . . . *SPOILER ALERT*. There . . . all better.

Anyway, once at Mr. de Wynter's fine estate, Steed orders Peel to distract the owner – who has in his possession a plethora of snowglobes for reasons unexplained – while Sean Connery plays the pipe organ for a portrait of Uma Thurman. Huh? Oh, wait . . . Sean Connery IS "August de Wynter." Gotcha. Though that doesn't explain why he's dedicating a song to Uma Thurman. Anyway, Peel tours de Wynter's expansive greenhouses and then he corners her in the depths of the foliage. After de Wynter eases up a bit, he and Peel bond over clouds . . . and sexual entendres. In addition to weather, it seems de Wynter is also obsessed with biologically impossible plants and he even wants Peel to touch his flower. OK, that's really kind of gross. Though it's never quite revealed if she does touch it or not; probably not, as Peel somehow insults de Wynter's intelligence and he goes off the deep end before offering her some tea. See, you should've touched his flower, Peel.

Outside, an impromptu gale picks up and Steed is caught in the midst of it. His only recourse is to answer a telephone in a booth in the middle of the woods. No, really. While Peel and de Wynter slyly joke about Steed's predicament, he's stuck in a snowstorm and then Evil Peel – as opposed to "Emma Peel" – rides up and shoots him. Oh well; movie's over. Or not as, sometime later, Steed awakens in Peel's humble abode and he reveals that his finely tailored waistcoat was, hilariously, bulletproof. While Peel offers Steed a soothing cup of tea, they trade witty barbs again, pretty much because he's trying to figure out why Peel tried to kill him moments earlier. Doesn't he know that's "Evil Peel"? Oh, wait . . . he probably doesn't know that.

Steed, comfortable enough with Peel's company – even though she may or may not have tried to kill him, goes investigating with his ersatz partner to a nondescript business somewhere in London. Once there, Steed hits on the receptionist and, to hasten the mission, he namedrops de Wynter as well. Speaking of de Wynter, he's busy in the same building addressing a room full of "plushies." Oh geez . . . that is something I did not want to think about. Apparently, they're not just fans of sex in stuffed animal costumes, they're also de Wynter's co-conspirators. Though de Wynter's plan is, presumably, foolproof, two of his associates wish to back out when given the opportunity. De Wynter takes the rejection in stride by killing the two recalcitrant accomplices. Sigh . . . when will they ever learn? Whenever given the opportunity to back out on an evil scheme, NEVER do it! It's better to go down in a blaze of glory at the end than be killed off because the heat was too much to bear . . . no pun intended. Since they're dressed in bear costumes and all.

Anyway, while there are murderous dealings going on in the bowels of the building, the receptionist explains the business to Steed; according to the receptionist, the business can adjust the weather in a particular area for a nominal fee. Before Steed and the receptionist can negotiate terms of partnership, she's called away on personal matters leaving Steed and Peel to discover the dead plushies – and their governmentally connected identities – in a conveniently adjacent room.

After a slight bit of exposition, Steed and Peel spy more plushies throughout the building, so they split up to put an end to their poly-filled hijinks. Steed ends up down at a loading dock where he finds Eddie Izzard and a horde of goons . . . who are summarily pummeled for their troubles. Eddie, using transvestite power, escapes but, in his haste, he leaves behind a CLUE! Dum-dum-DUM! Elsewhere, Peel chases her plushy onto the roof, where she ends up fighting herself in a surreal turn of events. Steed, ever the hero, breaks up the party and he finally sees, much to his alarm, that there are indeed two Emma Peels! Or, more appropriately, one Emma Peel and one Evil Peel.

Steed, with this crucial bit of evidence in mind, meets with the bosses; it seems, however, that they really don't care about Peel's guilt or innocence, they just want results. Ah, spoken like true bureaucrats. Meanwhile, de Wynter begins his evil scheme by testing his equipment, which probably cost about a billion dollars – or, I suppose, 750 million pounds sterling – just for a few seconds of operation. Elsewhere, Peel and Steed trade yet more exposition while playing chess. Steed, for reasons unrevealed to anyone at any point in the film, states that he has to kill Emma Peel – or something like that – because she may be crazy. Somehow, this leads to Peel having an epiphany; so perhaps she is crazy?

At de Wynter's fine estate, he and Father play croquet together while Eddie Izzard sits around lazily. I guess it's always a good idea for an evil villain to have friends in high places and transvestites on call at any time. Steed and Peel, meanwhile, drive back to de Wynter's place and, along the way, they're attacked by robot wasps! Through a convoluted series of events, Steed ends up capturing one and commandeering its machine gun, which helps his and his partner's situation immensely. In addition to the wasps, Eddie Izzard and another henchman chase Steed and Peel, until they drive off the road. A standoff ensues in the middle of a wood, until an old lady shows up to shoot the henchman! The old lady, who may or may not be good . . . but was part of Steed's training exercise earlier in the film, escorts Steed and Peel to a nearby hedge maze where, nary moments later, Peel falls into a deep, dark, Freudian pit. Yeah, I guess she is crazy then.

Within the hedge maze, de Wynter and Steed face off for a few moments and then de Wynter – apparently, judging by the twisting of time going on – rushes down to the bowels of his estate so that he can hypnotize a captive Peel. Deep in the hedge maze, the old lady finds Steed while de Wynter dances with Peel and then fondles her while she's unconscious. OK, this movie is just getting weird and kind of uncomfortable now. Why do I get the feeling I'm privy to the director's secret sexual fantasies at this point? Anyway, before de Wynter can continue his little prurient quest, the old lady rings the doorbell and interrupts his fun under the guise of selling raffle tickets. Ah, but are they explosive raffle tickets?

Deep inside de Wynter's lair, Peel wakes up to find herself trapped in an M.C. Escher drawing. Steed, meanwhile, knocks on false windows outside, alerting Peel to the presence of an escape route. To that end, she jumps through a mirror inside the room and into Steed's care; meanwhile, Eddie Izzard may or may not kill the old lady. Maybe he just wanted her shoes. Back at Steed's flat, he gives Peel some custom-made boots – which are probably also an IMPORTANT PLOT POINT – and then they trade barbs once more, this time about Steed's perhaps staid and prosaic lovelife. Before Steed and Peel can, presumably, GET IT ON, Father busts in – that sounds wrong in this context on so many levels – because she and her lackeys are there to arrest Emma Peel for no reason in particular.

While a mysterious storm rolls into London and it starts snowing, Steed ventures to the departmental archives and, down there, he's greeted by an invisible Patrick Macnee. Clever, movie; very clever. Meanwhile, Father questions Peel, who's resting comfortably in a straight jacket and padded cell. I knew she was crazy all along! Evil Peel was the Brad Pitt to her Ed Norton! Oh, wait . . . *SPOILER ALERT*. Down in the archives, Steed discovers that not only was de Wynter the brains behind the shield project, he was also involved on a cloning project as well . . . which really has nothing to do with anything. Unless the writers figured that it's a perfectly good origin for Evil Peel; I hate to tell them that would be preposterous as the clone, unless engineered to age quicker than its host – which is a terribly clichéd plot device and, yes, I'm looking at you, Episode II -- would be significantly younger than Emma Peel. Plus, that wouldn't explain how Evil Peel has brown eyes while Emma Peel has blue eyes. Damned genetic quandaries!

Elsewhere, de Wynter, with his scheme in full effect, takes the fake United Nations – which is conveniently headquartered in London – hostage, as well as the weather, which he will adjust . . . for a price! Dum-dum-DUM! Meanwhile, the old lady, who's remarkably alive, gives Mother a list of de Wynter's demands; somehow, this leads to Mother and Father having a little spat outside in the snow. Great; now the movie's turning into an episode of COPS. Or is it more like Jerry Springer, since there are also transvestites involved?

Anyway, Steed, perhaps the only character who's not crazy at this point, goes off in search of Peel; sadly, he doesn't have Leonard Nimoy on hand to help him. As Steed uses the tracking device helpfully implanted in Peel's boots – see? IMPORTANT PLOT POINT, he discovers that she's trapped in a hot air balloon piloted by Father and staffed by Evil Peel! Well, he doesn't really know who else is on the balloon, but I suppose he's smart enough to figure it out. Peel – the good one, not the evil one – breaks free of her bonds and she sets about scaling the outside of the balloon and begins sabotaging it. While Father tries to safely pilot the slowly degrading balloon, Evil Peel attempts to thwart Emma Peel. It's all for naught, though, as Emma Peel apparently commits suicide by dropping to the ground below, leaving Father and Evil Peel to crash directly into a neon sign and explode.

Luckily for Steed, he finds Peel remarkably still alive – but probably still crazy – nestled safely in a snowbank. Steed, perhaps overcome with joy at finding his erstwhile partner alive – or in the mood for some sexual harassment – makes out with Peel for a moment. Elsewhere, the Prime Minister – who may or may not want to make out with Peel as well – calls up Mother, who stalls for time so that Steed and Peel can finish their assignment. Speaking of the heroes, they're busy walking in balls on the Thames. Somehow, that seems very dirty and even more bizarre. They finally discover de Wynter's secret island – which was in the middle of London the whole time – and, once on land, they also find a plethora of dead plushies. I guess the other conspirators chickened out as well . . . or de Wynter got a little bit greedier.

After making their way through the island, Steed and Peel break into the secret base – which is remarkably lightly defended – and they split up yet again so that Peel can deactivate the weather machine. Steed, meanwhile, has a date to the death with de Wynter, to make up for their earlier, truncated altercation. Peel, meanwhile, doesn't have the easiest of tasks as Eddie Izzard shows up out of nowhere to fight her on a series of tightropes – I'm surprised this film wasn't adapted into a video game with scenes like this – until Peel somehow knocks Eddie off, giving him the chance to drop an f-bomb and then fall and go splat. Peel, now unfettered by outside interference, gets to work at disarming the device.

Meanwhile, de Wynter unleashes havoc in London and, in the process, he blows up Big Ben, just because someone working on the movie probably though it was a cool visual. Steed finally reaches de Wynter and he wants REVENGE so they fight once more, this time in a near hurricane. After a convoluted and largely unexciting swordfight, Steed ends up impaling de Wynter and then de Wynter is struck by lightning and he flies off into the sky! Whoa . . . is he being kidnapped by aliens? Perhaps not, as cyclones actually tear through London . . . until Peel shuts down the weather machine and saves the day. She then dives to safety below while the machine and the island explode. Remarkably – though not surprisingly, as they are heroes, Steed and Peel survive and then they celebrate with Mother and trade a few more witty barbs to end the film.

It's rare that I actually have the opportunity to watch an action film nearly devoid of action. Other than a few set pieces, The Avengers could easily be called an "exposition film," rather than an action film. In my estimation, nearly 75% – if not more – of the film is taken up by characters talking about events that occurred beforehand or other characters' backstories. Punctuate that surplus of exposition with a few silly action scenes and The Avengers is born. Of course, it may have been a different – albeit frighteningly more arduous – ordeal if the film was originally shown in its initial form . . . which was nearly an hour longer! Apparently, so the story goes, after a rather disappointing test screening, a large percentage of the film was excised and the final result was the 90 minutes in question here. Of course, it doesn't help that the end result was still a convoluted, muddled, exposition-bloated mess . . . but then it may not have been a Misunderstood Masterpiece.

Join me next week as I bring to you one of the most legendary cult films – and cult soundtracks – of the ‘80s! See you then!