Film Review: Where Eagles Dare

So a glance at the TV guide yesterday and I happened to notice it was on. And like an ‘aholic’ of some kind, I simply couldn’t help myself. The number of times I’ve watched this 1968 WWII classic over the years must be close to double figures now. But I was on my own so there was nobody around to roll their eyes and tell me in a slightly derogatory tone how sad I was being. Having said that, even if there had been someone around to point that out, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. For honestly, I simply cannot help it. It’s a corker of movie – real ‘Boy’s Own’ stuff.

Sure it’s got its flaws, I know that but what movie hasn’t. If you wanted to point out its errors and inaccuracies you’d probably end up with a list as long as your arm but if you just want to be entertained, taken on an action-packed adventure that’s as spectacular to look at as it is intriguing to comprehend then it has everything: fabulous alpine scenery, an enthralling plot, an accompanying soundtrack that stirs and soars and a fine cast headed by two compelling leads – Richard Burton at his grim, authoritative best and Clint Eastwood, as laconic and relaxed as you’ll ever see him. Burton was already well on his way to legendhood (I know there’s no such word but perhaps there should be) at the time of filming and Eastwood was riding the wave of success following a fistful of hit westerns. It’s difficult now to imagine Eastwood playing second fiddle to anyone (post Rawhide) but here he seems quite happy to let Burton take command. And take command he does. His gruff acting stance and inherent screen presence is the backbone of the ensemble and there are one or two moments where he delivers his lines with that sublime baritone of his that’ll either remind you of warm honey or a serrated blade. Other fine performances from the cast come from Anton Diffring as Colonel Kramer, Derren Nesbitt as Major Von Happen, Michael Hordern as Vice Admiral Rolland and Patrick Wymark as Colonel Turner.

By 1968, (the year of this film’s UK release) Alistair MacLean had enjoyed significant success with a number of thrilling adventure novels and with The Guns of Navarone having been made into a box office hit in 1961, it was Burton who approached film producer Elliott Kastner for ideas who in turn persuaded MacLean to write something in a similar vein to Navarone with Burton in mind. It was MacLean’s first screenplay with a title taken from a line of Shakespeare’s Richard III (Act I, Scene III – “The world is grown so bad, that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch”) and he wrote it in tandem with the novel. The screenplay differs slightly, the characters are less defined, less humorous and more brutal but only to give the cinema audience what they craved. Action, violence and bullets! (Indeed, in all of Eastwood’s films and all the ‘blowing away’ of bad guys he’s done over his long career, this is the film with his highest body count.)

Brian G. Hutton took on the task of directing and he was a man who, at that point in his career had spent more time in front of the camera than behind it. His only other notable work as director (and there are only a total of nine) is another Eastwood led film set during WWII – Kelly’s Heroes – which was made in 1970.

The pacing of Where Eagles Dare is brisk rather than rapid and at two and a half hours, it’s quite a long film (some would argue a tad too long) but Hutton builds the tension masterfully and spreads the action so that there never seems to be a dull moment. As I said earlier the high alpine scenery is just breathtaking and cinematographer Arthur Ibbetson, whose other credits include Whistle Down the Wind (1961) and The Railway Children (1970) captured this magnificently. Snow covered mountains and dense forests of fir have rarely looked more enticing.

Ron Goodwin who scored over 70 films during a fifty year career including Battle of Britain (1969) and 633 Squadron (1964) gives us arguably his most memorable one here. It’s a simple military-sounding theme with variations that run throughout the entire film and it’s made up of an orchestra of quivering strings, rolling drums and soaring brass. There’s no doubt it intensifies one’s enjoyment and adds mood to the scenes in a similar way to perhaps Bernard Hermann’s score to North by Northwest or Elmer Bernstein’s The Magnificent Seven. The music seems to lift us up to that high alpine village, to draw our eyes up to that mountaintop castle with its cable car and to worry our nerves like an ever-present threat of being captured or killed.

The film opens sometime during the winter of ’43-’44 and an elite group of British commandos led by Major John Smith (Burton) and one U.S. Army Ranger Lieutenant Morris Schaffer (Eastwood) are preparing to jump out of a plane over the Bavarian Alps. In a brief flashback we learn of their identities and their mission. To infiltrate a mountaintop castle, the Schloss Adler, and rescue a captured U.S. Army Brigadier General who holds crucial information about the Allied planned invasion of northern Europe – hopefully before the Germans have a chance to interrogate him. But even as the parachutists assemble from their scattered landing positions, knee deep in the thick snow, it becomes apparent that there’s a traitor amongst them. The group’s radio operator didn’t survive the jump and Smith quickly realises that it wasn’t the fall that killed him.

At this early stage there’s an overwhelming sense of mystery about the group as it becomes apparent that Smith isn’t telling the rest of them everything – for instance, he is the only one who’s aware that an MI6 agent Mary Elison (Mary Ure) accompanied them on the plane and jumped out soon after all the men did. He is also the only one aware of another MI6 agent named Heidi (Ingrid Pitt) operating in deep-cover as a barmaid in the village close by the castle. Both women have crucial roles to play in the mission.

And so the scene is set. A rescue mission by British commandos on a mountaintop castle accessible only via a cable car with the aim to prevent the plans of D-Day becoming known to the enemy. But with MI6 involved, agents and double agents, is the mission all it seems?

For a brief moment I was reminded of another film I reviewed recently – I Was Monty’s Double – but I won’t say why just in case you’ve not had the pleasure yet. I’ll let you figure that out for yourselves if and when. And I strongly recommend when.

For me, there’s much to like about this Alistair MacLean written yarn, hence why I’ve seen it as many times as I have. And it’s clear I’m not the only one. There’s an unofficial website for the film on which I’ve just read this little snippet of info – Steven Spielberg admitted in a Channel 4 survey of the top 100 war films that this is his favourite. The film also has its own Facebook page with over 55,000 likes. Not that any of this makes a difference, of course for it’s all down to what we as individuals like. And I for one like and will continue to like (and most likely watch) Where Eagles Dare.

 

 

 

Film Review: The Quiller Memorandum

The spy film genre has been thrilling cinema audiences for over a century now and with certain franchises still flourishing, it’s likely to continue to do so for a while yet. Way before “Bond, James Bond” saved us from SPECTRE’s first attempt at world domination and even before the “talkies” allowed fans to hear their favourite actors’ voices, tales of espionage and government agents captured our collective imagination.

Like most (perhaps all) film genres, this one has its roots in literary works of fiction and these date back to a time shortly before the First World War when writers such a G.T. Chesney and William Le Queux imagined French or Russian invaders attacking Britain. As the fortunes of Europe’s major powers began to shift and colonial rivalries grew, new alliances were formed as new threats loomed and soon Germany became the number one foe in these literary tales.

Films like Peril of the Fleet (1909) and Lieutenant Rose and the Stolen Code (1911) tell of foreign attempts to attack the British Navy, the country’s single greatest defence against invasion. It’s interesting to note that in all these films leading up to the outbreak of WWI, the foreign spies are never given a country of origin because the films’ distributors were reluctant to close the door on a large cinema-going market. But once war had been declared, the enemy was named.

The genre grew even more popular during the 1930s when tensions once again began to rise in Europe and directors such as Alfred Hitchcock had many a hit with titles such as The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), The 39 Steps (1935) and Secret Agent (1936).

For many, the popularity of spy films peaked in the 1960s when the Cold War had pushed the bar of tension between east and west to its greatest height. This is where the action-packed adventure movie carved out a niche for itself and began to break box office records. Fantastical and ludicrous the plots may have been but in terms of entertainment, they were dynamite.

But there were also less stylised – but no less stylish – films being made, grittier, more realistic and equally suspenseful. Films like The Ipcress File (1965) and The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965) both adapted from gritty spy novels (Len Deighton and John le Carré respectively) were low on action but high on procedure and intrigue.

And so we come to The Quiller Memorandum from 1966 starring George Segal, Alec Guinness and Max von Sydow. A fine example of a grittier type of spy film this time set in West Berlin during the Cold War.

Quiller played by Segal is sent to Berlin by SIS (Secret Intelligence Service) to investigate the murders of two British agents by a mysterious neo-Nazi organisation. His controller there Pol (Guinness) warns him that a new generation of Nazis has emerged who are difficult to spot because they no longer wear uniforms. He orders Quiller to locate the organisation’s headquarters. With his only clues being three items found in the murdered British agent’s pockets, Quiller – clearly resourceful and laconic – sets out to do just that.

There is much shaking off of people following him and questioning people who may or may not have known the murdered agents – all simple investigative procedures – and yet the ever present threat in the perfectly photographed city (it was shot in Berlin) looms like an approaching storm. You feel as though Quiller’s every move is being watched by those he’s trying to investigate. The pacing is excellent and the tension builds nicely.  And my God – it’s all so cool. Typical 60s cool but so subtly captured. The cars. The clothing. And John Barry’s superb soundtrack – surely nobody at this time was composing cooler film music.

Soon Quiller is captured by the neo-Nazi organisation and “persuaded”  by means of a truth serum to tell their leader Oktober (von Sydow) the location of SIS HQ so that the bad guys can annihilate the good. Quiller may not be a musclebound tough guy but he’s nonetheless a tough nut to crack and he just about manages to deflect Oktober’s questioning so that Oktober, fed up with having his time wasted, orders him to be killed. But of course, he escapes his would be assassins and….no, that’s all I’ll say. Because it really is worth a look if you’re a fan of thoughtful spy dramas.

It was directed by Michael Anderson whose credits include The Dam Busters (1955) and Around the World in 80 Days (1956) and adapted by Harold Pinter from the 1965 novel The Berlin Memorandum by Elleston Trevor (under the pseudonym Adam Hall). It was nominated for three BAFTAs while Pinter was nominated for an Edgar Award but it failed to gain a win. But that really doesn’t matter.

My only complaint, if I could call it that? How the hell is it that I’d never seen it before last week! I’m amazed that such a classy spy flick had escaped my radar all these years. George Segal is perfectly cast as the quietly confident American who ends up with more trouble than he hoped as is Alec Guinness’s rigidly unemotional Pol, (he of course would eventually go on to play another spymaster character, George Smiley). Max von Sydow is suitably menacing as are his henchmen and Senta Berger (the love interest, of course) is wonderfully enigmatic and oh so alluring.

A very nice and sadly underrated film that is quite likely closer to how it really was than the majority of spy films ever made.

Classic TV Review: Tales of the Unexpected

A recent lucky find in a second-hand bookstore led to this review for I happened upon a rather dog-eared paperback copy of an anthology of Roald Dahl’s short stories with this same name.

It immediately brought to mind the wonderfully evocative opening titles and theme music which I simply had to pull up on YouTube as soon as I arrived home. And as I’ve explained in one or two other pages on this website, it was another fine example of a theme tune instantly transporting me back a few decades to a time when I’d be heading up to bed just as this atmospheric piece of music (written by Ron Grainer, whose other TV credits include Doctor Who and The Prisoner) filled the living room with the promise of must-see entertainment for my parents.

The stories in the book are a selection from two earlier collections Someone Like You and Kiss Kiss published in 1953 and 1960 respectively and as with all Roald Dahl writing, they are a delight to read.

A writer of short stories myself, I know the joy to be gained from managing to craft a tale that culminates in a gob-smacking twist that the reader didn’t (hopefully) see coming and Dahl was truly a master. On top of this, his narratives are often erudite, frequently dark but always, always entertaining.

The television series ran from 1979 – 1988 during which there were 112 episodes and while I’ve only seen a small number of these, I get the impression from my research that – like so many TV shows – the earlier episodes are the ones to see. The first two seasons were, for the most part, adapted from Dahl’s stories and the author even appears at the beginning of these shows to introduce what you are about to see and to offer a brief explanation as to what inspired him to write it.

And there really are some delights to be had here. Of course, it’s impossible to explain in any detail what the stories are about without giving away or at the very least hinting at the final “twist” but I will say this; for a half hour TV show, you could watch a lot worse. And there is great variety in his situations too which add to the overall interest. Two of my favourite episodes from the first season are Neck – a story about an art lover and his disrespecting, adulterous wife and The Landlady – about a young man from London who arrives at a bed and breakfast in Bath run by a taxidermist.

The series attracted some high profile actors along the way too and the guest stars included a veritable who’s who of Pinewood as well as Hollywood – Joseph Cotton, Derek Jacobi, Joan Collins, John Mills, Janet Leigh, Rod Taylor, John Gielgud and Denholm Elliott to name just a handful. While the episodes may have been produced on modest budgets (something that certainly by today’s standard is quite obvious) there’s no doubting that the talent was there in the acting and writing departments.

So, if you are unfamiliar with this TV show – go on, give it a look. There are worse ways of spending half an hour. And I almost guarantee you’ll be humming the theme tune for the rest of the day.

 

Film Review: Harvey

Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, “In this world, Elwood, you must be” – she always called me Elwood – “In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.” Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.

So says Elwood P. Dowd as played by James Stewart in this 1950 film based on Mary Chase’s Pulitzer Prize winning play Harvey.  And a more pleasant man you’ll be hard pressed to find for Elwood will be only too happy to invite you to join him for a drink at his favourite bar or have you round his house for a small informal dinner regardless of who you are or how many words you’ve exchanged. Yes, a very affable chap indeed.

Trouble is, he’ll soon introduce you to his very dear friend, Harvey – a six-foot, three-and-a-half-inch tall pooka in the form of a white rabbit. This is why his sister Veta (Josephine Hull in an Oscar winning performance), who lives with him and is desperately trying to climb the social ladder, resorts to having him committed to a sanatorium because every time she arranges a gathering of the local elite at home Elwood ruins her attempts at networking for a suitable suitor for her not-so-young daughter Myrtle Mae (Victoria Horne) by stunning the assembled guests with his friend that nobody else can see.

What follows is quite possibly one of the gentlest, most charming comedy of errors I think I’ve ever seen. Dowd, whose penchant for a Martini makes him an unquestionable alcoholic  – a possible cause of his hallucinations – is so likeable and friendly that it’s hard not to overlook his whimsical little peculiarity. Stewart who had played Dowd on Broadway for almost three years prior to this film and would go on to reprise the role on London’s West End in 1975, brings his natural affability to the character and together with his innate talent, he received an Oscar nomination for his efforts. He is and always will be one of my all-time favourite actors.

The film is peppered with memorable characters played by some of Hollywood’s finest character actors. Jesse White as Wilson the gruff asylum attendant and Wallace Ford as the taxi driver have some hilarious moments. But saying that sounds unfair to the rest of the cast for there are many golden moments involving everyone. Indeed the entire 104 minutes is a golden moment.

Director Henry Koster had been nominated for another comedy with fantasy leanings three years earlier – The Bishop’s Wife with Cary Grant and Loretta Young but it’s arguable that over a 30 year career, Harvey would be his finest hour.

Film Review: Goodbye, Mr. Chips

Not to be confused with the 1969 musical remake starring Peter O’Toole in the lead role, this 1939 Oscar winner manages to be funny, sentimental, sad and uplifting over the course of its near two hour run time.

I caught it over the Easter weekend – the perfect time to see such film – and how fortunate I was because it’s yet another one of those notable movies of yesteryear that had so far escaped me.

Mind you, it’s not a film that’ll bring about a surge of adrenaline, so shelve it for another day if you’re up for some fist pumping action. Instead it’s a gentle character-led tale about the life and career of a teacher at a boys’ boarding school set in England.

The body of the movie is a memory so at the outset, we see the aged Mr Chipping (admirably played by Robert Donat) confined to his bed with a cold. His long career at Brookfield Pubic School is relayed to us in flashback and it begins in 1870 when we see the 20 year old Mr Charles Edward Chipping arrive for his first day as a teacher of Latin.

That first day is a bit shaky and the little rascals in his classroom give the poor idealistic new arrival a bit of a hard time. So he gets strict which earns him their respect but not their affection. But as the terms come and go and the years pass by, his relationship with his pupils improves and his position at the school gains importance when he is made senior master.

At one year’s end though, his high hopes of being appointed house master for the following year come to nothing and so to stop him from languishing in sorrow, the German teacher, Max Staefel (Paul Henreid), persuades old Chipping to join him on a walking holiday in his native Austria.

It is here that Chipping meets Kathy Ellis (the lovely Greer Garson), a forward thinking English woman who is also on holiday. Despite their obvious differences of character and age (she is about half his 50), they fall completely in love and marry.

Back in England, the new Mrs Chipping makes quite a stir at the school with her charming, friendly manner and her influence on ‘Chips’ as she calls him subsequently influences his ability to interact with the boys. Alas, tragedy arrives shortly after when his beloved wife dies in childbirth along with the baby but perhaps the silver lining (if one can find such a thing in so untimely a loss) is that her job was done. She made him a better teacher and a better man.

Devastated as he is (the entire school too), he throws himself into the only thing he has left. His work. And as the years pass and he becomes an eccentric but much loved fixture of the school, we see him enjoy a rapport with the boys that is quite unique. Indeed, he talks about teaching the sons and grandsons of many of his earlier pupils.

He reluctantly accepts retirement in 1914 but is such a part of the school that he remains on campus. However, with the war taking so many of the younger men off to fight he is called back to serve as headmaster – his lifelong dream and his wife’s prediction come true – albeit temporarily. Over the course of the next four years, he is saddened to read out the names of many former pupils and teachers who have died in battle, one of which was his friend and colleague Max Staefel, who had perished fighting on the German side.

He retires permanently in 1918 and dies fifteen years later, his last words summing up his sense of contentment.

The film had stiff competition at the Academy Awards that year from Gone With The Wind. Both films were nominated in the same seven categories (Outstanding Production, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Writing, Screenplay, Best Editing, Best Sound, Recording) but Donat beat Clark Gable to the Best Actor award. MGM’s southern epic would take five of the others while When Tomorrow Comes, a romantic drama starring Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer, took the award for Best Sound.

Donat was well deserving though. His performance is a perfectly judged progression of character and often quite moving. The fact that he ages 63 years over the course of the film is remarkable, not only in appearance but in manner.

The film is based on the 1934 novel of the same name by James Hilton and was directed by Sam Wood, whose credits include A Night at the Opera, A Day at the Races and For Whom the Bell Tolls. It was shot on location in Repton, Derbyshire and at Denham Film Studios in Buckinghamshire. The man who captured those interior and exterior images so ably was one of Britain’s most successful cinematographers, Freddie Young whose expertise won him three Oscars for Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago and Ryan’s Daughter during a career that spanned more than fifty years.

In 1999, Goodbye, Mr. Chips was voted number 72 in the BFI’s Top 100 British Films poll.

It’s a beautiful film that if you haven’t yet caught is well worth a look.

Film Review: I Was Monty’s Double

Based on the book of the same name by M.E. Clifton James, this movie is less interesting than the true story it tells. Having said that, It’s still an exciting and enjoyable way to spend an hour and a half.

First the story.

After serving in World War I, Meyrick Edward Clifton James, an Australian by birth, took up acting. Music halls and theatres were his workshop. When the Second World War kicked off he volunteered in the British Army as an entertainer but instead of getting assigned to the Entertainments National Service Association, which would have seen him touring for the troops, he was posted into the Royal Army Pay Corps and eventually stationed in Leicester where his acting was limited to the Pay Corps Drama and Variety Group. Minor stuff indeed.

But James had an attribute that would elevate him onto the world’s stage and make him go down in history. He bared a uncanny resemblance to General Bernard Montgomery.

It was while appearing briefly in a show dressed as ‘Monty’ that he was spotted by a British Lieutenant-Colonel, J.V.B. Jervis-Reid, and with D-Day less than two months away, MI5 decided to take a risk on the resemblance and cooked up a plan to confuse the Germans.

James was invited to London to meet Lieutenant-Colonel David Niven (yes, that one) of the Army’s film unit on the pretext of appearing in a film. Once the officials were convinced with his likeness to Monty, he was told the real reason for his summons.

Operation Copperhead, would see James assigned to Montgomery’s staff in order that he may learn his speech and his mannerisms. James had to quit drinking and smoking and, having lost the middle finger of his right hand during the First World War, a prosthetic one was made for him.

This ruse was part of a wider deception known as Operation Bodyguard, which intended to confuse the Germans as to the exact date and location of an invasion. One of these deceptions was that an Allied invasion of Southern France (Operation Dragoon) would precede the D-Day landings. The objective was clear; to keep as much of the German Army away from Normandy as possible.

On 25 May 1944, less than two weeks before D-Day, James (as Monty) flew to Gibraltar on Winston Churchill’s private plane to attend a reception at the Govenor-General’s house and later on to Algiers for several public appearances. The Allies knew that German intelligence agents would spot this high-profile Allied commander and report his whereabouts to the German high command. And Montgomery appearing in North Africa, for talks about ‘Plan 303’ a (fake) plan to invade Southern France, meant he wasn’t concentrating on a possible invasion in the north.

James, who apparently did not enjoy the assignment due to the pressures of the objective, was then secretly flown to Cairo where he remained until Operation Overlord (the invasion of Normandy) was well under way.

Reports on the value of Operation Copperhead are unclear but suggest that it had little impact on the Germans. However, taken as part of the wider Operation Bodyguard, it was a resounding success. The Germans in Normandy were taken by surprise and there was a considerable delay in reinforcements reaching the area from the Calais region.

That’s the story.

Now for the film.

This 1958 John Mills vehicle follows the account fairly well. Mills, who is always worth watching, plays Major Harvey, the intelligence agent who sees ‘Monty’ on a London stage and devises the plan with the help of his boss Colonel Logan (Cecil Parker). M.E. Clifton James (playing himself) is doubtful he can pull off such a deception but is persuaded to anyway.

Under the disguise of a corporal, he spends several days at Montgomery’s headquarters to learn the general’s mannerisms and speech patterns and is then flown off to tour North Africa.

It’s all quite exciting and there’s a little humour injected into proceedings too as well as some nice tension. But towards the end, the film strays from the truth when there is a bungled kidnap attempt made on James once his job is done and he’s resting securely at a heavily guarded villa. Dramatic licence of course but still entertaining.

The film was directed by John Guillermin, who would go on to direct The Bridge at Remagen (1969) and The Towering Inferno (1974) among others and the story was adapted by Bryan Forbes, the acclaimed director, writer, producer and actor whose credits include Whistle Down the Wind (1961) and The Stepford Wives (1975).

All in, this is a great little film and it tells a terrific story. M.E. Clifton James must have had great courage to take on such a role and I’m glad the film remains to honour him as I’m not sure his story is that well known.

The Second World War is littered with these amazing tales of disinformation such as my previously written review, ‘The Man Who Never Was’ which concerned Operation Mincemeat. Some of the ruses dreamed up were (and still are) absolutely fantastic and the fact that the enemy fell for many of them, shows just how ingenious they were.