It hangs in the memory less like a film and more like a beautifully wrapped, perplexingly empty box. 1998's The Avengers arrived on video store shelves with such pedigree – a beloved, iconically stylish British TV series as its source, A-list stars Ralph Fiennes and Uma Thurman stepping into legendary roles, and James Bond himself, Sean Connery, as the megalomaniacal villain. The VHS cover promised sophisticated espionage, witty banter, and a swinging retro aesthetic. What we got instead was... something else. A fascinating, frustrating, and ultimately bewildering misfire that feels like a fever dream stitched together from Savile Row tailoring and baffling creative choices.
A Feast for the Eyes, a Famine for the Soul
Let's be fair: visually, the film often looks the part. Director Jeremiah S. Chechik (who gave us the charming Benny & Joon and the less-charming National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation) and production designer Stuart Craig (later famed for the Harry Potter series) clearly aimed for a hyper-stylized, exaggerated version of the 60s seen through a late 90s lens. The costumes by Anthony Powell are impeccable, particularly Uma Thurman's sleek catsuits and Ralph Fiennes' dapper suits. Sets are often striking, from the minimalist Ministry headquarters to Sir August de Wynter's gloriously eccentric estate. There's a commitment to a certain aesthetic, a dedication to bowler hats, vintage cars, and tea, that initially draws you in. You can almost feel the ambition radiating off the screen – the desire to capture that unique blend of cool detachment and quirky danger that made the original series, starring Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg, so enduring.
But atmosphere, however thick, can't sustain a film alone. The visual style feels increasingly disconnected from a narrative that descends into baffling incoherence. The central plot, involving Sean Connery's Sir August controlling the weather via a secret base populated by... people in brightly coloured teddy bear costumes (yes, really), feels less like clever spy-fi and more like a desperate grasp for eccentricity. It's a script, credited to Don MacPherson adapting Sydney Newman's original creation, that seems to mistake weirdness for wit, leaving its protagonists adrift in a sea of bizarre set pieces that lack genuine tension or compelling stakes. Remember that infamous scene where Steed and Peel navigate a deadly hedge maze? It looks fantastic, but dramatically, it lands with a thud.
An Ill-Fitting Suit: Casting and Chemistry
The casting, which looked so promising on paper, proves to be one of the film's most significant hurdles. Ralph Fiennes, a truly gifted actor fresh off powerful dramas like Schindler's List (1993) and The English Patient (1996), feels fundamentally miscast as the effortlessly charming John Steed. His performance is stiff, almost awkward, missing the twinkle in the eye and relaxed confidence that defined the character. Uma Thurman, stepping into the formidable shoes of Emma Peel, certainly looks the part and handles the action sequences with grace, but her portrayal feels strangely detached, lacking the warmth and spark that made Diana Rigg's Peel so iconic. The crucial chemistry between Steed and Peel, the witty, suggestive interplay that was the heart of the original show, is almost entirely absent here. They occupy the same frame, but rarely feel like they're truly connecting.
Then there's Sean Connery as Sir August de Wynter, a villain obsessed with meteorological mayhem. Connery certainly brings his screen presence, chewing scenery with a certain gusto while clad in outlandish outfits (including, memorably, a kilt and a full bear suit). It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely enjoying the absurdity or simply fulfilling a contract – rumour has it the substantial paycheck was a key motivator, helping fund his Scottish educational charity. Whatever the reason, his performance adds another layer of camp to the proceedings, but it doesn't ground the film or provide a truly menacing counterpoint to our heroes.
Echoes from a Troubled Set
Knowing the film’s troubled production history helps explain, though not excuse, its disjointed final form. Shot for a hefty $60 million, The Avengers underwent significant reshoots and drastic editing after disastrous test screenings. Reportedly, large chunks of the narrative and character development were left on the cutting room floor, reducing the runtime to a scant 89 minutes. This might account for the jarring tonal shifts and the plot's overall lack of coherence. Warner Bros.' lack of faith was palpable; they famously refused to hold press screenings before release, usually a sign that a studio knows it has a turkey on its hands. The result was a box office bomb, recouping only around $48 million worldwide, and a critical savaging. It even snagged the Golden Raspberry Award for Worst Remake or Sequel. These aren't just trivia points; they're clues to understanding how such a promising project could go so spectacularly wrong.
A VHS Curiosity Worth Revisiting?
Watching The Avengers today, perhaps pulled from a dusty box in the attic or streamed for a hit of late-90s nostalgia, is a strange experience. It’s not thrilling, nor is it particularly funny (intentionally, at least). It fails completely as an adaptation of its beloved source material. Yet, there's a certain morbid curiosity to it. It's a fascinating artifact of studio excess, a monument to misapplied talent and baffling decisions. It’s not quite "so bad it's good" because it lacks the earnest charm or gonzo energy of true cult classics in that vein. Instead, it’s just… expensively, stylishly bad. It's a reminder that sometimes, even with all the right ingredients – big stars, a proven concept, a hefty budget – the final dish can be utterly inedible.
Rating: 3/10
The points are awarded almost entirely for the visual ambition and the sheer audacity of its missteps. The production design and costumes are occasionally impressive, and Sean Connery seems to be having some kind of time. However, the fundamental lack of chemistry, the nonsensical plot, the miscasting of the leads, and the overall feeling of wasted potential drag it down significantly. This rating reflects a film that is visually striking but narratively bankrupt, a hollow echo of the brilliant show it tried to emulate.
It remains a potent reminder from the VHS era that sometimes the most anticipated rentals turned out to be the biggest disappointments, leaving you wondering not about the intricate plot twists, but simply: What on Earth just happened?