The Wild Geese (1978)
- Soames Inscker
- 11 hours ago
- 5 min read

Andrew V. McLaglen’s The Wild Geese stands as one of the most iconic British war adventure films of the 1970s — a bold, muscular production that combines old-fashioned heroics, moral ambiguity, and gritty realism. Released in 1978, it features an ensemble of legendary actors including Richard Burton, Richard Harris, Roger Moore, and Hardy Krüger. The result is an engaging, if sometimes dated, blend of action, camaraderie, and commentary on the murky world of mercenary warfare.
The story, based on the 1978 novel by Daniel Carney, centres on a group of ageing mercenaries hired by a British financier, Sir Edward Matherson (Stewart Granger), to rescue Julius Limbani (Winston Ntshona), a deposed African political leader imprisoned by a brutal dictator. The mission is led by Colonel Allen Faulkner (Richard Burton), a veteran soldier-for-hire who assembles a team of seasoned men — among them the charismatic Captain Rafer Janders (Richard Harris), the tough South African Lieutenant Pieter Coetzee (Hardy Krüger), and the suave Irishman Shawn Fynn (Roger Moore).
Their plan is to parachute into Africa, liberate Limbani, and fly him to safety. However, after a successful and daring rescue, they are double-crossed by their employer and left stranded in hostile territory, forced to fight their way out while facing impossible odds.
The narrative follows the familiar template of the “men on a mission” genre popularised by films such as The Guns of Navarone (1961) and The Dirty Dozen (1967), but The Wild Geese adds a contemporary political edge. Set against the backdrop of post-colonial Africa, it explores themes of loyalty, betrayal, and the fading ideals of empire.
The film’s success rests heavily on its cast, and it is here that The Wild Geese truly soars.
Richard Burton, though visibly worn and physically frail during production, brings immense gravitas to the role of Colonel Faulkner. His voice — deep, commanding, and tinged with melancholy — lends weight to every line he delivers. Faulkner is a man out of time: a soldier who still clings to notions of honour and brotherhood, even in a cynical, profit-driven world.
Richard Harris provides the film’s emotional centre as Janders, the idealist among the group. His character’s moral convictions and deep affection for his son lend poignancy to the later stages of the story, particularly during the climactic moments when his idealism meets brutal reality.
Roger Moore, fresh from his success as James Bond, plays against type here. His Shawn Fynn is cool, sardonic, and ruthlessly pragmatic, a man who treats violence as a business but retains flashes of decency. It’s one of Moore’s more grounded and effective performances, allowing his natural charm to coexist with a weary cynicism.

Hardy Krüger, meanwhile, brings a fascinating complexity to Coetzee — a South African with racist tendencies who gradually develops respect and even affection for the African leader he helps rescue. Krüger’s nuanced portrayal prevents the role from slipping into caricature and underscores one of the film’s underlying messages: the capacity for moral awakening even amidst violence.
Andrew V. McLaglen, a director with a long background in Westerns and war pictures, approaches The Wild Geese with a solid, unpretentious style. He keeps the pacing tight, alternating between meticulous planning sequences and intense bursts of action. The film’s second half, following the betrayal, is particularly gripping — an extended survival odyssey filled with tension, explosions, and tragic sacrifice.
McLaglen avoids over-stylisation, favouring realism and efficiency over spectacle. While some of the action scenes may appear slightly dated by modern standards, they remain effective due to their practical execution and clear choreography. The gunfights are brutal but not gratuitous, and the film’s climactic escape sequence retains real power.
Beneath its surface as a traditional adventure film, The Wild Geese offers a surprising degree of moral and political complexity. It examines the lingering shadow of colonialism, the mercenary trade’s amorality, and the uneasy relationship between Western business interests and African independence movements.
Limbani, the imprisoned leader, is portrayed not as a passive victim but as a man of principle and intelligence, whose dialogue with Coetzee provides some of the film’s most thoughtful moments. Their conversations about race, responsibility, and forgiveness elevate the film above simple action escapism.

At the same time, the film does not entirely escape the racial attitudes of its era. Its depiction of Africa and African soldiers sometimes falls into stereotype, though the filmmakers clearly attempt to treat the subject with more respect than was typical for the time. The inclusion of Winston Ntshona — a respected South African actor known for his anti-apartheid stance — lends authenticity and dignity to the portrayal of Limbani.
Shot on location in South Africa, the film makes full use of the country’s striking landscapes. The cinematography by Jack Hildyard captures the dusty plains, jungles, and stark skies with impressive clarity, giving the film a sense of scale and atmosphere. The action feels grounded in a tangible world rather than a Hollywood backlot.
The rousing score by Roy Budd perfectly complements the tone — heroic yet melancholy, reflecting both the adventure and the tragedy at the film’s core. The title song, “Flight of the Wild Geese,” performed by Joan Armatrading, adds a haunting emotional resonance, particularly in the film’s closing moments.
Upon its release, The Wild Geese was a commercial success, particularly in Britain and Europe, though it received mixed reviews from critics. Some dismissed it as old-fashioned or politically ambiguous, while others praised its strong performances and gritty storytelling. Over time, the film has gained a devoted following and is now regarded as a classic of the mercenary subgenre.
It inspired a number of imitators and spiritual successors, including The Dogs of War (1980) and Wild Geese II (1985), though none matched the chemistry and authenticity of the original. The film also holds historical interest for its production context: shot during apartheid-era South Africa, it straddles a morally complex line between critique and complicity — something modern viewers may find both fascinating and troubling.
The Wild Geese is an unashamedly old-school war adventure — robust, stirring, and deeply human beneath its macho exterior. It combines star power, intelligent writing, and a sense of moral unease that gives the story lasting depth.
While some aspects have aged — both in politics and in tone — the film’s core themes of loyalty, betrayal, and redemption remain as powerful as ever. Burton, Harris, and Moore bring charisma and gravitas to roles that could have been mere stereotypes, and McLaglen’s direction ensures that every shot serves the story.
More than just a mercenary thriller, The Wild Geese is a film about honour in a dishonourable world — a final mission for soldiers who no longer belong anywhere, fighting not for glory but for the ghosts of their own past.
A gripping, intelligent action film with powerhouse performances and a moral weight that lingers long after the final flight.
