A longtime favorite film of mine has been 1977’s Capricorn One.  The film had a respectable cast that included James Brolin, Elliot Gould, and Hal Holbrook, and it was written and directed by Peter Hyams.  I had not seen this movie in over 30 years but I remember it impressing my teenage view of life in quite a way.  For years I had told my son this was a movie he should watch and we decided a few months back to give it a viewing during a 70’s movie marathon we had.  I was not only surprised at the quality of the production but the acting and writing are quality as is the story – it does a good job holding up after 41 years.  In many ways, given the rise in government distrust, the proliferation of conspiracy theories, and a president that thrives in them, this film almost seems to have been waiting for its time to arrive to be relevant.

The movie is about an aborted mission to Mars that is they faked for the sake of saving the space program and its sponsors.

My favorite scene in the movie comes 15 mins in when Dr. James Kelloway, played by Hal Holbrook, sits down and explains to the crew why they had to pull them out of the spacecraft in secret. The monologue delivered by Holbrook is brilliantly delivered and the dialog is tight. You really can see someone saying these words in such a situation. (I’ve copied the full monologue below at the end of this post).

There is a subplot with an investigative reporter, played by Elliott Gould, that is action-packed and suspenseful. The movie keeps a good pace and keeps your attention through the end.

PS: OJ Simpson plays one of the astronauts. And while he gets a lot of screen time, he has little dialog in the film

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Dr. James Kelloway’s Monologue

Why don’t you all sit down?

Ok, here it is…I have to start by saying that if there was any other way if there was even a slight chance of another alternative, I would give anything not to be here with you now…Anything.

Bru, how long have we known each other? Sixteen-years, that’s how long…sixteen-years.  Should have seen yourself then, you looked like you just walked out of a Wheaties box! And me, all sweaty-palmed and deadly serious – I told everybody about this dream I had of conquering the new frontier and they all looked at me like I was nuts; you looked at me and said yes.

I remember when you told me Kay was pregnant, we went out and got crocked. I remember when Charles was born we went out and got crocked again. The two of us, captain terrific and the mad doctor – talking about reaching the stars and the bartender telling us maybe we’ve had enough.

Sixteen-years…And then Armstrong stepped out on the moon and we cried. We were so proud.

Willis, you and Walker, you came in about then; both bright and talented wiseasses – looked at me in my wash-n-wear shirt carrying on this hot love affair with my slide rule…and even you were caught up in what we’d done.

I remember when Glen made is the first orbit in Mercury, they put up television sets in Grand Central Station. And tens of thousands of people missed their trains to watch.

You know when Apollo 17 landed on the moon, people were calling up the networks and bitching because reruns of I Love Lucy were canceled.

Reruns for Christ sake!

I can understand if it was the new “Lucy Show.” I mean, what the hell is a walk on the moon? But reruns!

Aw, jeez.

And then, suddenly, everybody started talking about how much everything cost. Was it really worth 20 billion to go to another planet?  What about Cancer, what about the slums?  How much does it cost?  How much does any dream cost, for Christ’s sake, since when is there an accountant for ideas?!

You know who was at the launch today? No the president. The vice-president, that’s who. The Vice-president and his plump wife.

The president was busy…

He’s not busy. He’s just a little bit scared.

He sat there two months ago and put his feet up on Woodrow Wilson’s desk. And he said, “Jim make it good. Congress is on my back. They’re looking for a reason to cancel the program. We can’t afford another screw-up. Make it good. You have my every good wish.”  His every good wish…I got his sanctimonious vice-president, that’s what I got. And so here we are, after all those hopes and all that dreaming. He sits there with those flags behind his chair and tells me we can’t afford a screw-up!

And guess what: we had a screw-up. A first-class, bonafide, made-in -America screw-up! The good people from Con-Amalgamate delivered a life support system cheap enough so they could make a profit on the deal. Works out fine for everybody. Con-Amalgamate makes money, we have our life support system, everything is peachy! Except they made a little bit too much profit.

We found out two months ago, it won’t work. You guys would all be dead in three weeks. It’s as simple as that.

So all I have to do is report that and scrub the mission.  Congress has its excuse, the President still has his desk and we have no more program.

What’s sixteen-years? We’re an actual drop in the bucket…

All right, that’s the end of the speech. Now, we’re getting to what they call the moment of truth.  Come with me. I want to show you something.