SVS: “The Rocketeer”

Clifford, when you borrow somethin’ and you don’t tell nobody, they call that stealing, you know.

I’ve got a little list. Well, it’s actually more of a super-secret and frighteningly-long spreadsheet in my Google My Drive than an actual pen-and-paper list. But still, I’ve got one. And on that spreadsheet, I keep the names of films not currently available through streaming sources; films that I desperately want to recommend, but can’t. Yet.

From time to time — usually at the beginning of each month — I look them up on Netflix or Hulu or CanIStreamIt, hoping against hope that it is finally the day when I can mention one of them to y’all. Problem is, it’s a long list. And I search irregularly and imprecisely. Which means that all too often, I find myself with an obvious opportunity staring me in the face, and I have no idea how long it’s been standing there. Just staring.

Today is one of those days. Because The Rocketeer is currently streaming on NETFLIX INSTANT. And ITUNES($), VUDU($), and YOUTUBE($$). I don’t know how long it’s been streaming there (or elsewhere), though my ego tells me it can’t have been long. But I don’t really care (other than the minor twinge of guilt I’d have for not recommending it sooner). Nor should you.

Just watch it.

When young stunt pilot Cliff Secord stumbles across an experimental jet pack, he becomes a target for mobsters, spies, FBI agents and millionaire Howard Hughes.

It had been quite a few years since I’d last seen Joe Johnson’s throwback — Because not streaming, remember? — so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I sat down with my wife and three eldest to give it a look last week. I’m happy to report that it’s still a real blast. “Corny but not campy” is how it was described at the time of its release, and while I’m not quite sure I understand how those words work together, I’m pretty sure I get the sentiment. Its earnestness and nostalgic excitement and manifest affection for its literary and cinematic inspirations easily overcomes a formulaic story and lukewarm leading man. It’s not a great film, by any stretch. But it’s a great-feeling one, and a ton of fun.

It’s also a great example of the fact that while a film like this can succeed without a stand-out hero — Billy Campbell’s Secord is earnest and straightforward, which is what the part calls for. But there’s little beyond that earnestness and boilerplate heroism to stick in one’s mind. — it had better have a great villain. And Timothy Dalton’s Neville Sinclair is great, chewing scenery at a prodigious and highly enjoyable rate. Mostly Errol Flynn, but with dashes of Laurence Olivier  and Basil Rathbone (and an enormous German accent) to keep things interesting.

Alan Arkin’s Peevy is really just his standard Cranky Sidekick role — “House? We don’t got a house. We got a gazebo!” — but when you’re as good at something as Arkin is, I’m more than happy to see you repeat it. And Terry O’Quinn’s Howard Hughes cameo isn’t just a scene-stealer, it’s pretty near a film-stealer

My favorite part of the film, though? Even after all these years? James Horner’s score, which is flat-out brilliant. A wonderful homage to old-timey actioners, and quite possibly his best work ever. (Also, a definite ear-worm. Be warned.)

Acting is acting like you’re *not* acting. So act, but don’t *act* like you’re acting.

Attribution(s): All publicity images and movie stills are the property of Walt Disney Pictures and other respective production studios and distributors, and are intended for editorial use only.