Juggernaut (1974)
'A terrorist threat. A captain in panic. And only one man who can end the danger...'
On the 17th of May 1972, a four-man British Special Forces unit parachuted from an RAF Hercules into the deep Mid-Atlantic Ocean in rough seas. Their mission: to locate and defuse six bombs planted on the Cunard’s QE2 en route from New York to Southampton. The three Special Boat Squadron/SAS men were joined by Captain (Robert) Williams, an RAOC bomb disposal expert: an officer with no previous (army) parachute experience. Fortunately, there was no bomb either: the ‘terrorist’ turned out to be a disgruntled shoe salesman from Beacon, New York. Following the incident, all four men were awarded the Queen’s Commendation for their ‘courage and determination in the face of unusual and hazardous conditions.’
Which takes us to Juggernaut (1974), Richard Lester’s sometimes amusing and often tense thriller, clearly inspired by the QE2 incident. That’s Richard Lester, incidentally. He of A Hard Day’s Night (1964), Help! (1965) and Petulia (1968), with Julie Christie. A film, I must confess, off my radar until a day or so ago, when a friend recommended it along the lines of ‘This is so you’.
Shipping director Nicholas Porter (Ian Holm) receives a creepy telephone call from a man with an effete Irish accent. Codename ‘Juggernaut’. He’s installed seven ‘explosive devices’, 7,000 tons of Amotol (a mixture of TNT and Ammonium nitrate), has he not, on the Good Ship Britannic, and they’re all set to go off at dawn, the following day, that is, unless he’s paid ‘the modest sum of’ £500,000. Juggernaut is, at least, right about that: it’s about eight million quid in today’s money, just about enough to buy you one of those dinky, bijou candy-painted townhouses in London’s Notting Hill.
Cue the Royal Navy Bomb Disposal team led by maverick, hard-drinking Irishman Lt. Commander Anthony Fallon RN (Richard Harris) and Petty Officer Charlie Braddock (David Hemmings). Scotland Yard's in on the act too, presumably Special Branch, led by Superintendent John McLeod (Anthony Hopkins), whose family — dishy wife Susan (Caroline Mortimer) and two pesky Seventies kiddywinks, conveniently, just happen to be aboard the SS Britannic.
In a sense, the SS Britannic is a metaphor for a sinking Britain: “There’s the Captain, ‘e looks like Ted Heath!”, a Britain in decline: there’s a distinct lack of optimism, the ship’s pretty grim, things don’t work, “the ship’s still being built around our ears”, there’s the inevitable cock-up, equipment fails: “what a bleedin’ mess!”. They’re on a voyage from Southampton to New York, supposedly on the ‘world’s greatest luxury liner’, but it’s hardly the SS Normandie. And to watch Juggernaut is to bring back memories of 1970s ‘summer’ holidays in the rain, on the rusty ferry to Brittany: cracked formica, fruit machines, sewage smells, chipped coffee cups and stainless steel. Pats of processed, plastic butter in those little tubs. Tinned peas and spilt tomato juice. Man-made fibres. Or one of those ghastly, hearty cruises demanding audience participation, a Butlins-on-Sea: “All passengers are invited to the Atlantic Lounge where a game of Cut-Throat Bingo will take place.” A fancy dress parade. Doin’ the Lambeth Walk.
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