Television
On the brink of disaster
Simon Hoggart
Hostile Waters (BBC 1, Saturday) was made not only by the BBC, but also by Home Box Office in the United States, a company, called UFA Film Produktion GmbH, and to top it off was resoundingly described as 'A World Productions Produc- tion'. The BBC, however, called it simply 'a BBC production', adding 'thanks to the co- production deal, it has the sheen of a fea- ture film'.
The sheen in question turned out to be Martin Sheen, who appeared alongside other not-quite-A-list stars such as Max von Sydow and Rutger Hauer. Clearly, we were not talking about the Teletubbies here. Serious money was spent, and the pro- gramme did have the air of a feature film. In fact, it had the air of several feature films. Though it was based on a true inci- dent, it had been Hollywoodised to make it look like fiction, which to most people is more convincing than mere reality could be.
That's the problem with co-productions: they become a hunt for the lowest transcul- tural common denominator. The story con- cerned a Soviet and an American submarine pursuing each other just off the east coast of the United States in 1986, just before the first summit between Reagan and Gorbachov. The two subs crashed — a minor prang really, a wing-mirror job in a car — but the Soviet ship caught fire, threatening the compartment where the missiles were kept. These had been target- ed on various American cities in the nor- mal way. So, in Radio Times speak, it was `the programme where anything might hap- pen — but let's hope it doesn't!'
The incident had been unearthed by the BBC's Tom Mangold, an experienced investigative reporter with an excellent record. It is still denied by the Pentagon, but most sane people would take Mr Man- gold's word over theirs. We were told that the story had been pieced together from interviews with those who were involved; if the BBC were doing it on its own, it would probably have made a documentary out of what they said — and very gripping that would have been.
On their own, the Americans would have added scenes showing the anguish of the women they left behind, and possibly had a few shots of the president (or the back of an actor playing the president) stomping uneasily around the Oval Office.
As it is, we got a blend of all the subma- rine clichés since Above Us The Waves first surfaced in 1955. The grim-faced captain snapping the periscope down. The warning sirens going Wurrp! Wurrp!' every few minutes. The sinister sparks shooting unob- served in the missile bay. Even the whimsi- cal bits of business designed to show the pressures of life under the sea, in this case high-spirited ratings throwing carrots at the grumpy chef. This is the international sign- language equivalent of the stick figures on airport lavatories.
The Americans all had American accents, of course, but the Soviets spoke in a weird mish-mash of American, English, German, Scandinavian, Spanish and Who knows — a little Russian. There's always a problem with a Soviet ship in the movies; the captain may be a hero, but he is also a communist. So there has to be a scene in which he is rude to the political commissar on board. This device, first used by the Sean Connery character in The Hunt for Red October, establishes that he may have a red star on his cap, but he is an American at heart.
Being a hero, he is also stoical and lacon- ic. As his Guinness ads demonstrated, Rut- ger Hauer is from the minimalist, Jeremy Irons school of acting, so that when he was faced with a choice between his ship and crew vaporising or starting the third world war, he looked mildly discomposed, like a vicar feeling the first spots of rain at the church fête.
Over on dry land, stock, tough-talking military men were shouting at stock, wimp- ish, whey-faced, smug politicos. They want- ed to sink the Soviet sub; Reagan's wimpish, whey-faced, smug assistant told them not to. As it happens, the politicians were right, but the cliché is too ingrained. An honest, open, straightforward politician would be as unexpected as a thoughtful, caring property developer; the grammar of Hollywood does not permit them. Back on board the stricken sub, you could tell the pressure was rising, as the characters lapsed into macho American slang: 'I'm really pissed,' Good job, Serge! — now get the hell outta there!' Yes, I found it exciting. Yes, Troy Kennedy Martin's script kept me watching to the end. But as the credits rolled I didn't feel a sense of relief that — assuming the tale is true — the world was spared from nuclear disaster. I felt I'd watched just another disaster movie, from the people who brought you Crimson Tide or The Poseidon Adventure. That's the problem with co-productions: you gain the cash but lose the special quality. Bring back mono- productions.
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