It is both a crime and a miracle that the shades of a brilliant film managed to shine through in the debauched theatrical cut of 1983’s The Keep. A crime for a director’s peerless vision to be upended, and a miracle that the vision remains at all. And yet it does.
This cult fantasy horror became the red-headed stepchild of modern auteur Michael Mann’s filmography, a film yet to see one of his world-famous director’s cuts (and likely never will according to the man himself). The film is based on the novel by F. Paul Wilson, a tale of supernatural horror concerning Nazis, ancient fortresses, and an eternal battle betwixt forces of good and evil, the first in the good doctor’s “Adversary” cycle of novels. There are many stories at play; the story of Nazi soldiers plucked off by a mysterious force within the hallowed halls, of a persecuted Jew taken in by the promise of revenge for his people, and of an ancient evil facing off against an immortal force for good. Mann weaves them all into a sonic and visual tapestry whose anachronistic score, authentic period style, and colossal mythos still register, even with the ten-ton elephant in the room: Paramount Pictures’ ghastly re-edit.
There is not a frame of this film that isn’t haunted by some of the most ill-conceived, bafflingly haphazard, and totally wayward cutting I’ve ever beheld. Plot holes you could drive a tank through, arc progressions that transcend ludicrous speed, and some striking dips in sound quality. Nothing feels earned because nothing is given time to be earned, and yet you can tell that is no fault of Mann, his talent, or his crew. Everything is forged with love and care, only to be demolished by some of the most reprehensible studio meddling in modern film this side of The Black Cauldron. Even the two-hour cut that bombed with focus groups would’ve faired better than what made it to theaters.
Lensed beautifully by Excalibur and Legend cameraman Alex Thomson, mesmerizingly scored by Tangerine Dream in their second outing with Mann, and featuring a spirited Sir Ian McKellen, the piercing Scott Glenn, and a sadistic Gabriel Byrne, the director is backed by talent to spare in his rendering of Wilson’s tale with near-Biblical weight, such weight also coming from Enki Bilal’s Golem-inspired design for Molasar, brought to chilling life via Michael Carter’s performance. Therein lies the power of The Keep; its striking imagery that stands as equal parts unsettling and resplendent. Through it all, flashes of Mann’s inimitable lyricism shine through the razor-blade savaging it was dealt. Best example comes right at the outset when the force yet to be known is unleashed, resulting in a series of brutal deaths for the soldiers involved.
Like an intricate fever dream, The Keep arrests one’s attention through pure style and flashes of sharp storytelling. In spite of all that’s assailed it, this lost chapter in Michael Mann’s decades-long career stands as testament to his distinctive blend of old and new, yielding a fantasy horror that baffles as much as it hypnotizes. Recommended for the director’s fans, and those of cult 80s horror…if you can find it.
A Fistful of Film 