Highlander (1986)

There can be only one. One what, exactly? One deeply confused, gloriously daft cult classic that somehow convinced an entire generation it was getting something profound? Because that's Highlander in a nutshell: all swagger, no substance, and absolutely convinced it's more epic than it actually is.

Let's start with what works, because it does work, sort of. The concept is legitimately great. A centuries-old Scottish warrior living in secret among modern New Yorkers, waiting for a final reckoning of immortals where the last one standing claims some kind of cosmic prize. That's pure 80s cheese gold, and I mean that affectionately. The Glasgow flashbacks have a rough, mythic quality to them, something almost Arthurian about the moors and the claymores and the misty highlands. And then there's the Queen soundtrack, which is doing genuinely heroic work holding the whole thing together. Freddie Mercury deserves a producing credit, honestly. Without those songs pumping through the speakers, you'd notice the cracks a lot more.

But here's the thing: Highlander is not nearly as good as its devoted cult following insists it is. Not even close. Christopher Lambert, bless him, is not so much acting as he is standing very still with a slightly pained expression, squinting into the middle distance and delivering lines with all the warmth of a man reading from a particularly dull instruction manual. His line delivery is wooden enough to build another bridge, and the accent is a genre all of its own. The film never really solves the problem of him being the lead. He's compelling in the same way a very attractive piece of furniture is compelling: you notice him, but you don't believe a word he says.

Sean Connery, meanwhile, showed up in full knowledge of exactly what film he was making, complete with a fake Scottish accent (playing an Egyptian-born Spaniard, naturally), leather trousers, and an expression that says he's having the time of his life. He's not giving a great performance by any traditional measure, but he's giving an honest one, and there's a charm to watching him deliver lines like "There can be only one" with complete sincerity while dressed like that.

The rest of the film is a genuine mess. The editing is jumbled, the tone swings wildly between po-faced mythology and something approaching farce, the wigs are catastrophic, and the fight scenes range from genuinely decent to laughably choreographed. The dialogue is, at times, cringe-worthy in a way that tips from charming into just plain bad. And the modern-day New York plot, where most of the running time is actually spent, drags in a way that makes you want to skip back to the Scottish flashbacks every time.

It reminds me, in a roundabout way, of how I feel about something like Re-Animator: films from this era that fully commit to their own ridiculous logic and earn a kind of cult affection through sheer audacity, even when the craft isn't quite there. Highlander commits, I'll give it that. It never winks at the camera or apologises for itself. It wants you to believe in immortal warriors and quickening lightning and Sean Connery in a Spanish-Egyptian-Scottish hybrid costume, and the sincerity is half the appeal.

But sincerity only carries you so far. Judged as an actual film rather than a vibe, the acting is weak, the logic is thin, and there are stretches where it genuinely tests your patience. The nostalgia baked into its neon-lit, synth-heavy soul is real, and if you grew up with it I completely understand why it looms large. Watching it fresh, or revisiting it with clear eyes, it's harder to defend.

Worth watching once. For the music, for Connery in those trousers, for the sheer audacity of the whole enterprise. Just don't let anyone tell you it's a misunderstood masterpiece. It's a flawed, fun, frequently maddening film that peaked in the trailer and never quite lived up to the mythology it was trying to build. Two and a half stars.

Rating: ★★½  | Year: 1986  | Watched: 2025-09-17

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