John Denver Flies High in Higher Ground

When it comes to individual singers, I don’t think there’s anybody who holds a more exalted place in my musical hierarchy than John Denver. So when I was browsing around YouTube the other day looking for a recording of Alaska and Me, I was startled to come across a version of the song from a movie I never knew existed. The title: Higher Ground, which is also the title of my favorite John Denver album, the album on which Alaska and Me is found. I didn’t care what the movie was about; I immediately put it in my Netflix queue.

I figured, though, that there would be an inspirational bent to it. After all, this was John Denver, and the movie shares its name with a song whose chorus is “Maybe it’s just the dream in me, maybe it’s just my style, maybe it’s just the freedom that I’ve found, but given the possibility of living up to the dream in me, you know that I’ll be reachin’ for higher ground.” It looks as though the song may have been written specifically for the movie; certainly it’s integrated into the score to an almost excessive extent, with the keyboard picking up the theme with various emotional shadings at key moments in the movie.

Knowing that at least one other song from the album was featured in the movie, I had hopes that it might be a showcase for several of the tracks, but Alaska and Me and Higher Ground are the only songs included, with the exception of a song at a sing-along whose words I can’t make out. If it’s a John Denver song, it’s one I’ve never heard before. Granted, looking over the songs on the album, several of them seem completely inappropriate, particularly Sing Australia and Country Girl in Paris. But there are a couple of scenes in which All This Joy would have fit in very nicely, and there could have been a place for For You or Never a Doubt.

Music isn’t a huge part of this movie, though. Denver’s character is Jim Clayton, an FBI agent in Los Angeles who becomes disillusioned with his job after his boss makes a choice that costs someone his life. He decides to take his buddy Rick up on his offer to come to Alaska and fly for his struggling airline, which primarily shuttles fishing supplies. Rick is played by Martin Kove, previously known to me only as El Creepo Supremo John Kreese in the Karate Kid movies. I recognized him immediately and was curious to see him in this much more sympathetic role. While Rick is a bit of a hothead, he’s indisputably a good guy, and I especially like the camaraderie between him and Jim.

Rick is a husband and a father. His wife Ginny (Meg Wittner) ends up having a larger role than he does, as does his son Tommy, played by Brandon Marsh, whose single acting credit is for this movie. That doesn’t surprise me, since I found his performance very over-the-top and borderline abrasive. On the whole, though, I was fine with the acting, especially by Richard Masur, who is nicely understated as villainous booze runner McClain, and John Rhys-Davies, whose Lieutenant Smight is a robust Scotsman determined to see justice served.

This movie was written by Michael Eric Stein, directed by Robert Day and produced in part by John Denver. It feels like a pet project for him, and I can’t help thinking he had input into the general direction of the screenplay. For his fans, that’s pretty good news, though there’s something very unsettling now about seeing scene after scene of John Denver flying a small airplane over a large expanse of water. The scenery is gorgeous, however, and the emphasis on nature, clean living and diplomacy all seem right in line with the messages he presented through his music. Some of the dialogue is a little cheesy, especially Jim’s habit of calling everybody he meets “pal,” but that’s about what I would expect from a made-for-TV flick.

Yes, this movie was aired on television and then largely forgotten. I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece. But for a lifelong John Denver fan, it is a hidden treasure. If you count yourself in that category and are just as unaware of this film as I was, do yourself a favor and reach for Higher Ground.

The Karate Kid, Part III Concludes the Trilogy on a Repetitive Note

This Christmas was a little different for our family. That’s because, for the first time, my brother Benjamin was unable to make it home. We were still together on Christmas, after a fashion, because we spent an hour on the phone with him before opening our presents. But he was in Sasebo, Japan, and we were in Pennsylvania, and next year is likely to bring the same scenario, only by then he will have moved to Okinawa, best known to me as the home of Mr. Miyagi. So when I was flipping through the channels at my grandparents’ the other night and came upon the very beginning of The Karate Kid, Part III, that seemed like a perfect way to keep a little Benjamin in our Christmas travels.

I love the Karate Kid movies, mostly because of Pat Morita’s wonderful portrayal of the wise, funny Mr. Miyagi, who serves as such a valuable mentor to displaced, hot-headed Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio). In the first film, Miyagi teaches Daniel the value of patience and hard work as he slowly instructs him in the art of karate, which gives him a passion into which he can pour all of his energy, not to mention a way of standing up to bullies. The Karate Kid is a Rocky-like story of a plucky underdog triumphing through perseverance. The Karate Kid II, my favorite of the trilogy, is more focused on Miyagi himself, who must face an old feud as he returns home to care for his ailing father. In the process, he imparts valuable lessons about mercy and forgiveness.

The Karate Kid III is not as compelling as either of its predecessors. In many ways it feels like a rehash of the first movie, except that Daniel is not longer a fish out of water, so his amplified angst is harder to deal with. Daniel makes several stupid decisions in this movie, some of them with good intentions, some motivated by pride. He is often a frustrating character. Having moved in with Mr. Miyagi, he’s decided to pass on college, at least for a while, in order to help his housemate open a bonsai shop. This is a noble gesture, but he fails to consult Miyagi on every major decision along the way, leading to some tiresome consequences.

I also found myself a little frustrated with Miyagi at times because he is so adamant that Daniel not return to the tournament to defend his title. I understand his reasoning, and I certainly don’t think Daniel’s head needs to get any bigger, but when it’s clear that not entering the tournament is going to cause major problems, I would think he might relent a little. Eventually he does, but not before the bullies harassing Daniel have made a real mess of things, ransacking Miyagi’s shop and splintering his relationship with Daniel.

There’s a lot of negative emotion in this movie, and for not a lot of grand purpose. The driving force behind the plot is John Reese (Martin Kove), the explosive dojo leader who trained Daniel’s opponent in the first tournament. Daniel’s victory and John’s subsequent meltdown ruined him, and now he’s out for blood. With a little help from his buddy Terry (Thomas Ian Griffith), he’s going to get it. Terry, introducing himself to Daniel with a sob story about John’s death, wriggles his way into the teen’s confidences, eventually convincing him to let him serve as his trainer for the tournament. It’s a subversive game, and by the time Daniel realizes what’s going on, he’s in too deep to easily extract himself. Griffith makes an interesting villain, much cleverer than the brutish John, who is nonetheless more entertaining to watch. At this point, the man who seemed so threatening in the first movie just comes across as pathetic, and his over-the-top outbursts pose little genuine threat.

Karate Kid III is the campiest of the trilogy and the least charming. It’s a movie that doesn’t have a lot of reason to exist, except that trilogies seemed to be the big thing in the '80s (and we know this is the 1980s because Daniel feels the need to remind us of this fact in every installment). Because Mr. Miyagi is so consistently wonderful, it’s still a thoroughly watchable film, but from Daniel’s love interest, a considerate potter named Jessica (Robyn Lively), to the challenges facing him, it all just feels like old territory with more angst. If you’ve seen the first two films, by all means check out the third, but don’t expect the conclusion of the trilogy to quite measure up to its beginning and middle.