Agents employed by Red China plot to steal a new American laser weapon powered by rubies. Enter Richard Egan as the counter-espionage agent who stands between the West and commies bent on global domination. Fortunately for the free world, his precious bodily fluids are working just fine. Does he save the day? Whaddya think?
This filler film, with its paranoid reds-under-the-bed plot, was probably at least ten years out of date when it was released. It's a strictly comic-book adventure, dashed out to capitalise on The Man From Uncle, Bond, etc. It totally lacks the wit of those productions, however, and takes a more Dragnet-type approach, ie. stiff, no nonsense, and rapidly tiresome. Richard Egan is quite impressive though. Egan, a big, chunky guy and a decent leading man, sports a tan for this movie deep enough to turn George Hamilton green with envy. B-movie king Michael Ansara features as the smoldering baddie (no surprises there), while the rest of the cast give their producer his money's worth.
It's childish rubbish of course, but smoothly filmed in an expensive TV film manner. The elaborately symphonic musical score by Paul Dunlap totally out-classes the movie and almost makes you think you're watching a good film. You're not though. You're just listening to the score for one. Dunlap pretty much left the film scoring field after this. A pity. He was (is) good, but all too often seemed to get saddled with B-movies like The Destructors. Fate's fickle finger jabs again.
This filler film, with its paranoid reds-under-the-bed plot, was probably at least ten years out of date when it was released. It's a strictly comic-book adventure, dashed out to capitalise on The Man From Uncle, Bond, etc. It totally lacks the wit of those productions, however, and takes a more Dragnet-type approach, ie. stiff, no nonsense, and rapidly tiresome. Richard Egan is quite impressive though. Egan, a big, chunky guy and a decent leading man, sports a tan for this movie deep enough to turn George Hamilton green with envy. B-movie king Michael Ansara features as the smoldering baddie (no surprises there), while the rest of the cast give their producer his money's worth.
It's childish rubbish of course, but smoothly filmed in an expensive TV film manner. The elaborately symphonic musical score by Paul Dunlap totally out-classes the movie and almost makes you think you're watching a good film. You're not though. You're just listening to the score for one. Dunlap pretty much left the film scoring field after this. A pity. He was (is) good, but all too often seemed to get saddled with B-movies like The Destructors. Fate's fickle finger jabs again.