Narrative coherence is not a quality which director Mulcahy brings to this mondial of machismo, about a bizarre (and shrinking) band of immortals engaged in mortal combat down the ages. Highlander hops to and fro, from the Scottish highlands in the middle ages to contemporary America, allowing Lambert to don a variety of kits to match the perpetually pained expression in his eyes, and Connery, as his mentor, to make tosh dialogue sound like it was written by Noël Coward. It has lots of energy, a frenzied pace, and a villain who sings Tom Waits while mowing down innocent pedestrians. It's a lot of utterly preposterous fun, even if it doesn't quite hang together. Scotch missed.