The film was Breakout (1975), produced during Bronson's brief fling as an A-list Hollywood star. He had, of course, been enormously popular in Europe for nearly ten years but, like contemporary Telly Savalas, Bronson was more familiar than popular back in the states. But his European films developed a loyal following in American grind houses, and when Death Wish (1974) earned a surprising $22 million at the box office (a large take in those days), for the next half-dozen years or so Bronson went mainstream. Most of these movies weren't very good, though, and by the early 1980s, the famously stone-faced actor began a long association with Cannon for a series of cheap, if sometimes stupidly entertaining thrillers. (Supposedly Cannon's budgets for these films were a flat $3.5 million apiece -- of which $3 million went to Bronson.)

Breakout is a concept in search of a story. Jay Wagner (Duvall) is framed for murder by his wealthy grandfather (Huston), and soon Wagner is thrown into a Mexican prison for a crime he didn't commit. Wagner's wife, Ann (Jill Ireland), hires pilot Nick Colton (Bronson) to break her husband out of the slammer.

A gaggle of writers are credited, but no one seems to have decided what tone Breakout should take. On one hand, Bronson and business partner Randy Quaid are like Dumb and Dumber. Neither is very bright; Bronson's Nick is a low-grade con-artist type who amusingly undersells his services to Ireland's moneyed Ann, while Quaid's Hawk Hawkins becomes the patsy of Nick's wild schemes, including sending Hawk into the prison dressed as a Mexican whore. The lighter tone and incredulity of Bronson's character is more in keeping with lighter Clint Eastwood fair like The Gauntlet (1977) than the usual Bronson thriller. Bronson, for his part, seems to enjoy playing what for him was a somewhat atypical character.

However, other parts of the film are played dead straight, with occasional needless unpleasantness. The only Mexicans we see are prison guards who grope and slobber over visiting wives, or are simply sadistic, like prison warden Emilio Fernandez (of Wild Bunch fame). There's both a rape scene and a lengthy joke about rape later on. In short, Breakout is not what you would call an ideal date movie.

The picture runs a quick 97 minutes, suggesting perhaps the film was trimmed or retooled partway through post-production. Huston's character disappears completely during the final act, and his relationship with Duvall is never adequately explained. The Big Escape just kind of happens, and much of the action has a cartoon-like air of unreality about it. The death of one key villain is so absurdly grisly that it becomes comical.

What's so weird about Breakout's great cast is that everyone, from Duvall to Huston, are all playing stock Charles Bronson movie characters. You expect to see a lesser-known (though perfectly fine) actor like Paul Koslo playing Duvall's part, or Ben Johnson in Huston's role. Unfortunately, the biggest role other than Bronson's went to Bronson's wife, Jill Ireland. Ireland was never a good actress. She could get away with playing shallow, austere femme fatales (as in the excellent Violent City), but as a guilt-ridden wife obsessed with rescuing her husband, she's hopeless.

Video & Audio

Columbia / Tristar Home Entertainment has released Breakout in 16:9 anamorphic widescreen format. Remastered in High-Def, Breakout looks clean and sharp. The first reel or so shows its age here and there, but most of the movie looks just great. The mono sound is okay. A French audio track is included, and as with many of Columbia's titles, there are a plethora of subtitles. Breakout offers English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, Korean, and Thai.

Extras

None. No Trailer, nothing.

Parting Thoughts

Charles Bronson was a good actor, though audiences rarely had a chance to see it. His performance in The Great Escape (1963) was the best in a film full of great performances. He could make good movies, too. Besides Violent City, he made a number of interesting films in Europe including the masterpiece Once Upon a Time in the West and the not-bad The Mechanic. But somewhere in the mid-1970s, around the time he made Breakout, Bronson seemed to give up, to adopt a "take the money and run" attitude. In the oeuvre Charles Bronson, Breakout, sadly, belongs to that latter category.