Summer of 1993: ‘The Fugitive’ (and its forgotten sequel)
We’re mashing up Summer of 1993 and Franchise Friday (on a Sunday).
While Jurassic Park was definitely the movie I saw most in 1993, and it’s still probably the movie I’ve returned to more than any other, I think one of the main reasons I wanted to do this retrospective series was to have an excuse to rewatch The Fugitive.
Not that I needed an excuse, and it’s not exactly like I hadn’t seen it in ages. I know I watched it once in the early days of HBO Max. But this is one of those all-timers for me, a movie I’ve seen countless times and love more each time. I remember being very frustrated that every attempt to see it in theaters in 1993 was somehow thwarted by scheduling conflicts, to the point where my mom saw it before me. I was so sure I would love this movie that I blind bought it on VHS the day it came out without renting to make sure I wasn’t let down.
And I’m sure I’m not alone. The Fugitive was a massive hit, just under Jurassic Park and Mrs. Doubtfire in terms of that year’s grossers. It was the rare action-adventure – and film based on a TV series – to be nominated for Best Picture, and Tommy Lee Jones walked away with an Oscar as well as a blank check for the next decade of his career. People love The Fugitive.
But guys, I was most excited to write about it as a Franchise Friday entry and extol the praises of its mostly forgotten sequel, 1998’s U.S. Marshals. It’s a movie that was released in the wake of Titanic and buried by its success, and for years I thought I was one of the very few who saw it (even though, upon researching it, I found that it made a respectable $100 million). The film, I thought, didn’t get a fair shake, and I remembered it as a tense, worthy follow-up to its predecessor. I couldn’t wait to revisit it for the first time since theaters and spread the word about this forgotten gem.
We’ll get there. This week, I’m teaming up my Summer of 1993 series and my Franchise Friday one (albeit releasing it on a Sunday; it’s been a busy few weeks, guys) to look back at 1993’s The Fugitive and revisit its sequel.
The Fugitive (1993)
In a recent oral history at Rolling Stone, the majority of people involved in The Fugitive who are not named Harrison Ford gathered to talk about their experiences making the movie. One thing that comes up repeatedly is how everyone thought they were making a movie that would end their careers. The script wasn’t finished, there were entire subplots jettisoned (Harrison Ford’s character was supposed to have a romance with Julianne Moore’s character, whose role was wisely cut to one scene), and the film was delayed while screenwriter Jeb Stuart tried to figure out the ending. At one point, Harrison Ford said this was going to be his Hudson Hawk, and several people expressed concern that they would never work again.
I was shocked to read any of that. Not because I don’t believe it – if anything, the process of starting films without a ready script has only gotten worse in 30 years – but because none of that insecurity appears on screen. There are great films where you can tell they’re being held together with Scotch tape and bubblegum – Ghostbusters, in particular, feels like it’s constantly about to fall apart – but I never would have considered putting The Fugitive on that list. Its pacing is too focused, its performances too crisp. This is a movie that grabs you and takes you for a ride, and never once does the finished project betray any behind-the-scenes chaos.
Take the film’s breathless opening. Apparently, the original cut of the film lingered on the murder Dr. Richard Kimble’s wife (Sela Ward), the police investigation and Kimble’s imprisonment for about 30 minutes, which the filmmakers believed was way too long. Instead, the opening is a brisk series of flashbacks to the hours before the murder and the brutal crime itself, intercut with sequences of Kimble (Ford) being questioned by Chicago PD and then sentenced to death. It takes about 10 minutes at most, and the film’s credits are still rolling by the time Kimble is loaded onto the transport bus that will eventually collide with a train and set the story in motion.
The story is simple. Kimble comes home from performing emergency surgery to find his wife dead in their bedroom. He tells police he fought with a one-armed man, but no evidence of such a person can be found and all the clues point to the doctor killing his wife for an insurance payout. He’s sentenced to death and manages to escape when his bus collides with a train during the prison transfer. He returns to Chicago to clear his name and find his wife’s killer. He’s pursued by a team of U.S. Marshals, led by dogged, no-nonsense Sam Gerard (Tommy Lee Jones).
Director Andrew Davis cut his teeth on B-level action picks, often starring Steven Segal; he actually got the job for The Fugitive based on his work helming the Die Hard rip-off Under Siege, which co-starred Jones as the villain. His post-Fugitive career has been largely unnoteworthy, and he hasn’t directed a film since 2006’s The Guardian. But here, he’s dialed in in a way that he wasn’t in any other film. Working from Stuart’s focused, propulsive script and alongside a six-person editing crew, Davis delivers a movie that books it from start to finish, rarely slowing down and – aside from one leap off a dam (which is still really cool) – never trading intelligence for spectacle. As Stuart notes in the Rolling Stone piece, the film works so well because Kimble’s search for his wife’s killer pulls the story along, while Gerard’s pursuit pushes it forward. The movie is possibly the best-paced Harrison Ford adventure since Raiders of the Lost Ark.
The film is littered with big moments: the spectacular train derailment (filmed with a real train), the Les Miserables-esque chase through the sewers before Kimble “does a Peter Pan” off a dam, the tense chase through Chicago’s St. Patrick’s day parade, Kimble angrily confronting the man behind the conspiracy (“he switched the samples!”). But The Fugitive never feels like it’s running from set piece to set piece; it’s an organic story, smoothly transitioning from a conspiracy story on Kimble’s end and a police procedural on Gerard’s, colliding with tense action moments. The film keeps us on our toes; in one scene, we think the Marshals are closing in on the home where Kimble is staying but it’s revealed that they’re chasing another fugitive. Later in the film, Kimble awakes to find police at the residence where he’s staying, only for them to be there for his landlady’s son – who eventually rats him out to the Marshals.
Few actors were bigger at this time than Ford, whose five-year run preceding The Fugitive included Working Girl, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Presumed Innocent, Regarding Henry, and Patriot Games. This is one of his most effective performances. Ford displays intelligence on screen better than almost anyone, and there are several scenes where he wordlessly conveys Kimble’s constant alertness and intuitive thinking while on the move. While the film leaves questions early on about Kimble’s guilt, not showing us the fight with the one-armed man until later, Ford’s breakdown (“he took everything from me”) in the police station endears us to him. Ford’s very presence is shorthand for integrity, but the film also gives him a great moment where Kimble stops his pursuit at a hospital to help a sick child, further gaining our sympathy. Ford’s fantastic; this is one of his best roles.
He’s so good that it’s almost shocking that Tommy Lee Jones actually bests him. Jones had been a popular character actor when he took on the role of Gerard, but this set the template for much of the rest of his career (what’s Men in Black’s Agent K but Sam Gerard recruited by a secret government agency?). He saunters onto the screen with confidence; his “I want a hard-target search of every residence, gas station, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse and outhouse and doghouse” speech is the highlight of the film. Jones portrays dogged determination better than anyone – Gerard isn’t a deep character, but he doesn’t need to be. He’s obsessed, and it provides a great threat to Kimble. Rather than flesh the character out, the film gains energy and humor from Gerard’s interaction with his fellow Marshals, particularly Cosmo Renfro (Joe Pantoliano, as always making everything better) and Newman (Tom Woods). Their banter is funny (I still use the word “hinky” from time to time) and feels genuine; according to the Rolling Stone article, much of it was improvised.
Original versions of the script called for Gerard to be an out-and-out villain, something Stuart and Davis wisely objected to. Gerard is just a man doing his job; most famously, when Kimble protests that he didn’t kill his wife, the lawman just responds “I don’t care.” His job is to bring a fugitive to justice. It provides a fantastic arc for Gerard, who begins to piece together that nothing surrounding this case makes sense, and sets out to find the truth. Late in the film, as all the players are chasing each other in a hotel laundry room, Gerard shouts out to Kimble “I know you’re innocent,” and proceeds to lay out the proof. It provides the film’s emotional climax; at this point, Gerard cares and the relief on Ford’s face show how much it matters to Kimble that someone believes him.
I guess you could quibble with the specifics of the plot and the medical conspiracy that Kimble uncovers, but why do that? The conspiracy is just a MacGuffin; it doesn’t really matter except to set off the chase. And the film is so relentlessly paced that you don’t have much time to ask questions. Everything moves along with so much assurance, and it’s also fun to watch the film peppered with future stars, whether that’s Moore, who’s pretty great in her one scene, or Jane Lynch, who pops up as a colleague of Kimble’s.
It’s easy to roll eyes at a piece of pop entertainment getting so much Oscar love, but I think it’s deserved. The Fugitive just flat out works as a movie, better than almost any film of 1993, and Jones’ performance is an all-timer, and still one of his best (although I may put No Country for Old Men ahead of it). The film was also nominated for best cinematography, best score, best editing and some sound categories. I’d argue Davis may also have deserved a nomination (although that’s a pretty stacked director category) as well as Ford. The Fugitive is simply a great movie, one of the 1990s best. And, of course, with Jones walking away with the statue, it was a no-brainer that it could be spun off into a great sequel.
Right?
U.S. Marshals (1998)
Well, this was disappointing.
As I said earlier, I was one of the few who seemed to love U.S. Marshals upon its debut in February 1998. I realized it wasn’t as good as The Fugitive, but I walked out of the theater perfectly happy with it as a fleet, fun action thriller with some solid performances. I didn’t understand why no one else was as excited about it as I was.
Watching it again, I understand. With the benefit of hindsight and having seen more movies, it’s easy to see what a lackluster follow-up this is. And rewatching it so shortly after The Fugitive made it apparent that whatever lessons that movie had about tension, emotion and pacing, U.S. Marshals had forgotten them. It’s not the worst movie ever made, but it’s just thoroughly mediocre and bland.
Once again, Gerard is on the hunt for a fugitive. This time, it’s a tow truck driver named Mark Roberts (Wesley Snipes), who is arrested after a traffic accident when it’s revealed he’s wanted for the murder of two United Nations security officers in New York. While en route from the Windy City to the Big Apple, Mark is the target of an assassination attempt, which leads to the crashing of his plane – which Gerard is also on. Mark escapes in the chaos and Gerard commandeers the chase and discovers a government conspiracy.
It’s great to see Jones as Gerard again, and he falls back into the character’s staccato barking easily, once again backed up by his team. But the film feels that it’s necessary to undercut Gerard’s bravado with a joke whenever possible; he’s introduced during a stakeout while wearing a ridiculous chicken suit. When the police officers of the Podunk town where the plane crashed try to take control of the scene, he sits there with a pained look on his face as if we’re just waiting for him to jump in and “do the thing” and command another hard target search. Because he’s the hero and not just an obsessed cop doing his job, the convoluted script by Roy Huggins and John Pogue tries to give him an ethical conflict – he’s reprimanded for his harsh tactics – but it feels flat and obligatory, and the brief shot where it’s revealed he’s dating a local news reporter feels out of character. The Gerard of The Fugitive wouldn’t have a life outside of the office; perhaps there was something to be made of the idea that he’s loving the spotlight a bit too much, but the film doesn’t ever engage that. It has to jump through so many narrative loopholes just to align him with Mark Roberts' story that the film feels misshapen by the time it hits the 30-minute mark.
Davis was traded for director Stuart Baird, who was fresh off the solid Executive Decision. Baird trades in the ground-level grittiness and verisimilitude of The Fugitive for something more pedestrian. Yes, the plane crash is effective, and the film lurches to life for a few chases and shootouts. But the plot lumbers along and is too complicated – involving treason, government espionage, assassins and secret agents – to re-create its predecessor’s brisk, no-nonsense approach or emotional pull (the film gives Roberts a girlfriend stuck in the middle, but she’s a non-entity). Its cinematography is flat and the story too often feels like a rote, straight-to-video conspiracy thriller that decided to toss in Gerard and his agents (their banter feels a bit more forced here, although Pantoliano is still a delight).
The cast largely goes through the motions. Jones is fine, but already it feels like the role is devolving into self-parody. Snipes is focused, but his character feels plucked from any wronged-man thriller. Robert Downey Jr. has a supporting role as a government agent assigned to babysit the Marshals, but he’s so smarmy from the start that his villainy is telegraphed from the beginning, and the script never really is clear about his motives or the reality of the conspiracy (probably because originally, he was not the main villain and Roberts was complicit in the crimes, but test audiences didn’t like this fugitive being guilty).
The film’s final act is an incredible whiff. Not only is it yet another 1990s cop chase set on a boat that ends on a fistfight, it makes the mistake of having Gerard be so pissed off about the death of one of his agents (RIP, Newman) that he sets out to kill his fugitive, a betrayal of character that feels so forced and out of place that it torpedoes any goodwill I had left to the movie. And, of course, it deflates any tension, since the audience is aware by this point that Downey’s character is a villain and we’re just waiting for Gerard to catch up.
The Fugitive didn’t need a sequel, but Gerard was such a compelling character that the potential was there. Unfortunately, it was wasted on a half-baked concept that even the cast and crew admit was not good. For awhile, I thought I might be interested in Jones coming back for another Gerard film. Now, I think it might just be too hinky.