Firefox

Ex-Vietnam flier with poor nerves (and bad case of flashbacks) is ordered to steal deadly Russian jet from behind 'enemy' lines. The simple storyline is quickly grounded by flying chunks of exposition that director/actor Eastwood tries to ignore. Eastwood the director disregards many Cold War possibilities, preferring to dawdle over a first hour that mooches along while Eastwood the actor enjoyably dons various disguises, playing a man who can't act (or so everyone tells him) and is happiest left alone with his gippy nerves. Only in the airborne climax - a prolonged chase of modest ability - does he achieve solitary ecstasy, while, with a touch so perverse as to be admirable, the wordy finale is left to a foreign actor whose English is actually incomprehensible.