It's one of the many mid-80s HBO staples ("most films shown on cable receive 2 stars or less, and are repeated ad nauseum.") that during the end of the Cold War was a perfect adolescent male fantasy. For a generation coming of age with The Day After and GI Joe, the notion of taking to the hills and heroically rising against communist invaders was one every American boy in 1985 could buy into. As I often do when revisiting old films, I poke around on the web to see what background resources are out there.
It's a truism that for almost any conceivable subject, there's someone more devoted to it than you, and they'll happily do the work instead. It's this principle that led to my creating this blog!
However, that doesn't quite hold up with Red Dawn. While there seems to be a universal sense of brief, belated embarrassment regarding the film, I've found very little in-depth discussion of its execution and merits. And so, to get this out of my system...
Here's the opening titles, which define the world Red Dawn exists in. We'll take them point by point:
Soviet Union suffers worst wheat harvest in 55 years.
Doubtful that even in the 80s/90s (in theory) that the international community would not send food aid to the Soviet Union. Presumably, the evil party elite are withholding it from the masses, as we see next:
Labor and food riots in Poland. Soviet Troops invade.
Would this really be allowed by the UN? By the various conservative European governments? Are the Greens in Germany sweating about this turn of events?
Cuba and Nicaragua reach troop strength goals of 500,000. El Salvador and Honduras fall.
First, an army of 500K would mean 5 and 16 percent of total population, respectively. Cuba at least has a stable base to grow on. At the time of the film and somewhat into the future (at least so far as the USSR still existed, in the real world) Nicaragua had insurgents to deal with. US-funded, Balance of Power insurgents for what that's worth. Given the phrasing of the statement I assume that each of the 500k club knocked off one of their democratically-leaning neighbors, though there seems to be little other reason they were picked as targets -- aside from perhaps the Risk strategy of adjacent territory. And how was Cuba's navy in the 80s?
Greens Party gains control of West German parliament. Demands withdrawal of nuclear weapons from european soil.
Putting aside the scarce likelihood of a liberal, appeasing sweep into power during a time of obvious world unrest, last I checked there were sovereign governments in Europe other than West Germany. And presumably, none of the Greens seem to care if the Soviets leave their nukes in eastern Europe.
Mexico plunged into revolution.
Sure. Why not? Doubtless America didn't even see it coming, despite decades of John Bircher domino-theory hand-wringing about central america -- and the Red Dawn scenario is nothing if not Bircher-inspired -- that was fulfilled by the actual knocking over of two dominoes.
NATO dissolves. United States stands alone.
With the rather rampant aggression and desperation of the USSR in the RD world, it seems unlikely that all of NATO would fall away -- particularly with Soviet troops on the march within Europe. Sure, maybe some of those pinko socialist countries, but even France? England?
Also, stands alone against what, really? The Mexico revolution? Liberating Poland?
The introduction of multiple points attempt to give the RD history some kind of wide-ranging verisimilitude, but under any scrutiny has the opposite effect. It's this kind of simultaneous too-much/not-enough thinking that detracts from the film throughout.
Act I: The Invasion
We're never given a clear picture of what the long-term USSR strategy is, so it's up to the audience to say exactly why paratroopers are deployed to Calumet. If the town lies along some key interstate route through the rockies, it's never mentioned in the film. One or two lines of dialogue could have covered for this! Perhaps some strategic parallels are meant to be gleaned from the pre-invasion history lecture about the Mongols, even though their tactics here are similar only in the "killing frenzy" particular.

Much later in the film we learn that the paratroopers are scheduled with, or at least close to, a limited nuclear attack. Granted the film is pre-Internet, but it's still surprising that no reports of any of the nuclear war reaches Calumet before the troops are landing.
In order to prove their total weapons superiority to schoolchildren, the Soviets indiscriminately fire RPGs both into the school and at terrified, fleeing civilians. That they can't hit a large pickup truck from 50 yards with their missiles lays some early groundwork for the Wolverines' later success. Less fortunate teens are dragged from their VWs. Why is the capture of teen civilians with no strategic value a priority minutes into an invasion?
Cut to downtown (such as it is) Calumet, where we take a few seconds to see that folks with the "cold, dead hands" stickers really mean it. Our heroes tear through town in their Cheyenne, assembling much of the main cast but unable to rescue Aardvark's father. They loot Danny's father's survivalist store on their way out of town, taking everything for a good time in the mountains, (weapons, batteries, cases of coke, football, buck knife) but forget to take any water. Was there really no bottled water in the 80s? Instrumental to their escape is a happenstance encounter with an American Huey, which strafes the Russian roadblock on the highway out of town. Consider this for a moment: one Huey mopped up what is apparently the entire enemy presence on half the major routes out of town. How on earth did the Russians manage to hold Calumet at all? Did every other citizen flee on the other road?
Indeterminately later, the soviets have had time to supply heavy equipment, including AA and mobile armor. One underling complains that they're low on antitank rounds (no american tanks have been seen, and won't be for months) -- maybe wasting RPGs at the high school was a bad decision? Our Cuban Colonel, Bella (Superfly Ron o' Neal) drops an NRA talking point on his next lieutenant, instructing him to go to the Sporting Goods store and find their records of all gun owners in the area. Stupid Americans! This will teach them about gun control! Ha! Ha ha!

...where it's Communist Pride day! Lenin posters are up everywhere, Aleksander Nevsky plays at the cinema, re-education plays at the drive-in, and even the mayor's Oldsmobuick has been given a kicky camouflage paint job by our new Cuban, Marxist overlords. The stores are open, but mostly empty, as if a controlled central economy modeled on the USSR has been put into place in under 45 days. More likely, there just aren't any goods coming in -- which makes you wonder how these troops, let alone, the people, are going to eat. The mountains aren't great for growing crops in autumn, and do recall the war began following starvation in the USSR...
The choice of Nevsky is an interesting one, as the film was shown in the USSR during WW2 with the aim of riling up the civilian populace against Nazi invaders. The filmmakers are having a little joke, I imagine.
Visiting the drive-in, an unaccented voice drones in english about the merits of communism. The PA quality is bad enough that there's only about three intelligible sentences. No matter, we're not here for education, we're here for the melodrama! Harry Dean Stanton, the bloodied but unbent Pa Eckert is helped to the fence to see his sons. Shamelessly, he rationalizes that his remote and abusive parenting has in fact prepared his boys for this day.
Admonishing them to never cry again, he implores them instead to Avenge me, boys.
Aveeeennnnnnnnnnge me!
Next time we see dad, he's getting shot. Some re-education!
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Two 80s icons, sabotaging their legacies. |
Later (not long enough for there to be a date title, so it must be October still), the boys espy a jeep of russian soldiers-cum-tourists out to take a few pictures for mama back in Minsk. Yuri, who looks a bit like a young Rick Moranis, allegedly studied english and knows american history, so he translates the the plaque for the Arapaho National Forest for his, um, comrades. Apparently he plays a little joke, as his version is not even close to the real text, unless "Forest" can be translated as "battlefield," and whips up casualty figures out of whole cloth.
Yuri's little joke is put to the test when they find a contemporary arrow, left by our heroes. He immediately declares it an Indian arrow, but his friends question the native american faculty for steel and plastic. Insisting it is bone, polished

During the after-party, we're having another brief crisis of moral superiority. "They were people!" point. "So was my dad!" counter-point. Aardvark shows up from wherever he was (some lesser Wolverines go on walkabout) and asks what it was like. "It was good," said death-commando-in-training Robert, hornily sawing off a shotgun barrel.
Without irony, Jed intones -- and I think the screenplay meant this metaphorically -- "One thing's for sure. No one can ever go home again." Brother Matty pushes a pile of dirty dishes at Erica, saying she should make herself useful. While this looks like a case of the actor seeping into the character, he's probably just pissed that she scored a confirmed kill (messily) while he came up empty. Lea is having none of it, and when Sheen retorts with a cavalier 'What's up your ass' she triggers, getting that angry chimp face she wears during an awful lot of the film. Something tells me that the soviets didn't just try having their way with Sam the Lion's granddaughters...
Back in town, Colonel Superfly inspects the bodies of our three unfortunate sightseers. Recognizing the source of the trouble right off, he goes to the mayor (Lane Smith, getting typecast here for the rest of his life as the go-to guy for bootlicking Vichy Americans) because Superfly apparently knows that Lane's son is a Wolverine, and responsible for the slayings. How the Russians know all of this, so soon, is by any stretch pure contrivance.
Later still, the re-education good ol' boys are digging graves for the fallen soviets outside of town. Then they get in line to be shot, among them Harry Dean and Aardvark's dad, who gets a better moment than his ostensibly heroic-by-association son by starting a rousing recital of America the Beautiful that gets cut short. To assume that this whole funeral/execution was a show staged for the Wolverines' benefit is, I think, to give the screenwriters too much credit.
It has the desired effect, as back at camp afterward the boys are demoralized. Swayze again holds them together by sheer force of will, and drops another catchphrase on his crew to get them over their grief: "Let it turn."
Act II: It turns.
The setup for a montage begins. A soviet tank stops at a gas station (inexplicably stocked) to refuel. Chimpanzee girl rides up on her bicycle, carrying a large pic-a-nic basket for grandma. The russkies leer and try their best wild-and-crazy pickup lines, but their captain warns them to "forget the broad," and just take her food. Casually, the basket is grabbed, and, not inspected, thrown into the tank. To hopefully no one's surprise, the tank then explodes, with a nice effect of Ivan Mannequinov falling to the earth with a hefty thud. The boys, taking a page from Superfly's anti-insurgent advice, mow down the pursuing survivors with ease. They flee.

In town, Superfly is not happy. Nor is his boss, a stern and ugly Russian direct from character actor hell. They helpfully drop a little more information about the war, saying that things are "paralyzed at the front." Why they're even bothering to stay in Calumet remains under-discussed. Instead, they talk a little about the too-obvious parallels with Vietnam and Afghanistan. Then Lea's bomb goes off in the "friendship center" behind them to clunkily underscore their loss of control.

The lines stretch from Cheyenne, Montana to "the Mississippi" which covers a lot of ground. We (finally!) learn that Calumet was taken to control one of several passes through the Rockies, but that Denver remains merely "under siege" for the past three months -- and apparently the city had even less of a food supply than the boys' one-horse town, as the residents are already "down to sawdust bread and rats..and sometimes on each other." Europe has decided to "sit this one out," except England, which in Tanner's expert strategic analysis "won't last very long," though it seems to me that three months in WW3 time scale is fairly long already. On our side, inexplicably, are "600 million screamin' Chinamen" who have, if nothing else, solved their overpopulation problem.
Soon, Tanner's off witnessing the Wolverines wipeout of an armored column. Jed is anxious for praise, to which Tanner assures him that his "mama'd be real proud." But the askance look he gives Jed says something else besides, and back at camp he lays into the boys for their strategic ambitions.
December arrives, and with it a major attack on the occupying forces, one of the largest set pieces of the entire film. It's marred by uncertain objectives, and a patently ridiculous bit of special effects involving a grenade and the world's most oblivious MiG pilot. And now there's a minor airbase in Calumet? After the debacle, Creepy the Russian is angry, though Superfly demonstrates an increased, grudging respect for his foes.
The following scene, with the boys playing football with Tanner (for one play, at least) feels like it was inserted out of sequence. Gone are the snows, even from the widest shots of the mountain background. The scene is a long "getting to know you" bit, and feels like it should have occurred prior to Tanner being taken along on raids.
Next we're back at the Mason house, sipping moonshine from his jars. Sam tells Jed that the Wolverines are famous, and, come spring, they're going to drop in some special forces to help them out. Because Calumet is vital to the war effort, I guess.
Spring's a long way off...
Act III: How can this film have a downbeat ending?
January starts with a tank battle. If the US has made 40 miles of progress on the lines, on the ground, into the high rockies, IN JANUARY they can't possibly be waiting until spring to drop in the green berets. With the tanks are an F-16, which leads to me presume the producers could not pay for both the later Hind replicas as well as a proper air-to-ground plane, like an A10, or even an Apache. From the way Tanner tries to convince Jed to come with him, this scene apparently is meant to show the Wolverines attempting to return Andrew Tanner to civilization. Jed balks, and this goes on long enough for a Soviet tank to surprise the boys on their rear. So well prepared, our Wolverines. Abandoning any tactical sense that has enabled their survival thus far, they hide directly between the russian and american tanks, making no effort to use the friendly and very uneven terrain to flank the soviets. After an exchange of main cannons, Aardvark goes crazy and tries to take on one tank while a second rolls up. Tanner goes in after him, and both are quickly killed, but provide time for the American tank to finish business. Strangely, the survivors choose to go back to camp rather than cross another hundred yards to hook up with the American tank group and get to FA.
This battle marks the beginning of the end, both for the Wolverines and for the writers. First, in practical terms, it's a break with what we've seen so far: the kids have been superhumanly skilled in battle against the enemy, easily killing ten to twenty times their number. Here, they lose any sense of tactics or discipline, paralyzed by two (apparently) unsupported tanks which are presently under fire by American regular army forces from land and air. The boys are clad in snow camo, led (or at least advised) by a USAF colonel, and are bristling with weapons (Robert and Matt have at least one RPG on their backs, and everyone's packing an AK-47). It looks like they could fairly easily slip around the side of one tank, attacking or escaping as they chose. Either soviet tank that chooses to deal with them would be exposed to fire from the American armor, so given the track record of the Wolverines thus far, odds of survival, if not outright victory, seem highly in their favor. Then Aardvark goes nuts and the scene plays out.

Next comes the aftermath scene. Lea is in the deeply-shadowed foreground, sobbing that she'll never love anybody again. Is she talking about Tanner, or Aardvark? Since we're shown virtually no scenes of the kids outside of combat, we can't be sure. One presumes Tanner, but Jennifer is the one sitting in the background cradling Tanner's flight helmet in her lap.
After a makeshift funeral, Matt goes to find Jed sitting in the snow-free field, brooding. The dialogue hints that this may be at the end of a vigil, but like much else here, one can't say for sure. Matty informs his brother the rest of the team is thinking about quitting, that they'd lost their stomach for it. Jed asks if Matt has, too, and in one of those fate-sealing responses, Matty says: "I'm your brother. Just make it count."
FEBRUARY
Still token snow on the ground. In town, the russkies are having their May Day parade early, as a creepy Spetsnaz commander who sports a Bennett 'stache marches his unit through town. He gives a reorganization all-hands-meeting speech, indicting the tactics used by Superfly and Creepy Russian General as impotent. Behind him are presentation aids that will be unfamiliar to modern audiences: bulletin boards, charts, and photographs. He has four boards, one devoted to the small animal the boys take their name from, one of pictures (I'm guessing, hard to make out) of their past exploits, one of pictures with their victims' bodies, and one with eleven 8x10 glossies of the suspected Wolverines. Now, it's just been barely hinted that Darryl's dad (the mayor, smarmy Lane Smith) knows something of the boys, and shortly more is revealed, but there's a real stretch to make an assumption of eleven Wolverines. Spetsnaz Bennett closes by launching a bold new strategy: hunt for them!
Next, the Spetsnaz are out in force, walking briskly through the barrens in their full white snowsuits, less than helpful in the still-sparse snow. Several carry what I am truly hoping to be radio transmitters slapped together in the prop department. They look to weigh about ten pounds, have springs jutting from their front, and two large dials that look more like the adjustment knobs on an aeron chair. Above all, they seem a parody of clunky Soviet-designed equipment. They beep loudly when in proximity of their quarry, which kind of negates the usefulness of sneaking up in full camo.

Matty finds the on switch of the ugly spring box and determines it's pointing right... at... Darryl. Matty's apoplectic, slapping himself so violently Oliver Trask style his Dead Russian Major hat falls off. Darryl's been going to town, apparently without anyone questioning his absence (he has been pretty much invisible for the previous half hour or so), got caught, and was forced to swallow a bug. The commies have transmitters small enough to swallow but need receivers the size of cinder blocks. Matty, not the sharpest tool in the camp accuses Darryl of telling them where the camp was -- well, duh, Matty. "My father turned me in.. they did things you can't imagine.." cries Darryl, fully aware he's pleading for his life to a pissed-off Swayze. Presumably they did things that didn't leave any visible effects. On the other hand, the callow guy didn't take long to cave in.


But nevermind that, the horses are back!
Following some more Swayze brooding (in what seems to be seasonally appropriate snowfall for once) we're back to our old tricks. The Wolverines are watching from a ridges as a small commie caravan drive down the highway, stop for several suspicious moments, and then even more suspiciously drop two large boxes of food off the back of their truck before driving on. Counter to any logic, Jed calls off an attack and sends Toni down to inspect the boxes.
Nobody questions the overwhelming contrivance of the Soviets' sudden largess. Or how the fresh apples and oranges getting into Calumet in February. Or how this scene makes any sense whatsoever: the only way for what follows to logically happen is that the Russians knew exactly where the Wolverines were hiding. After Toni tests for poison and snipers, our heroes race down the hillside, and then adjourn to Partisan Rock to gorge on produce and boxes of Chex.
The Russians' plan is then made chillingly clear: no milk!


At last, all the pawns are cleared.

"Who will?"
Once the brothers are alone, Matty is starting to waffle, reasoning that they could make it out. Jed cuts off any possible discussion with a well-timed "I love you, Matty." They then finish outfitting themselves for the task ahead.





A considerably less dignified valediction awaits the brothers, as Jed has carried Matt to the playground from their childhood, muttering about how daddy'll be there soon. He drops Matt, picks him up, sets down on a park bench and cradles his unconscious-probably-dead brother in his arms as the snow falls on them.
Exeunt the Wolverines.
Then we cut back to Erica and Danny, who are climbing up a hill in daylight. Presumably it is several weeks if not months later (or possibly even the next morning, given the film's continuity problems) as there is not a bit of snow to be seen. As the plains finally stretch out before them, Danny announces "We're free now." "Free," she agrees with a nod.
We return to Partisan Rock for an epilogue (the snow missing from the last scene is back). The Rock is now a monument, with an American Flag proudly jutting from it. Erica handwaves the rest of the war with a simple: "In time this war... ended," and that she never saw the brothers again (no, really?). She comes to this place often, "when no one else does."
Somehow the lives of six high schoolers (okay, five and a townie) get a Department of Forests plaque: "In the early days of World War III, guerrillas, mostly children, placed the names of their lost upon this rock They fought here alone and gave up their lives "So that this nation shall not perish from the earth,"" showing how almost anything can be whitewashed.
Fin.
Thundering patriotic Red Dawn theme, rolling over larger-than-life b&w glossy headshots of the principals follow.
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