Classic Films in Focus: DESPERATE JOURNEY (1942)

If director Raoul Walsh's WWII action movie, Desperate Journey (1942), had been made a few decades later, it would have boasted a catchy name that more accurately describes its tone and characters, something like The Great Escape (1963) or The Dirty Dozen (1967), so don't let its vague yet somber title dissuade you. Fans of modern team movies will recognize many familiar elements, including the near-constant action, the plucky (but imperfect) group of heroes, and the snappy banter and jokes, delivered in this case by Errol Flynn, Ronald Reagan, Alan Hale, Sr., Arthur Kennedy, and Ronald Sinclair as five RAF airmen from different Allied backgrounds trying to escape Nazi Germany after crashing their plane. If you're in the mood to watch classic Hollywood stars punch a bunch of Nazis, Desperate Journey provides such scenes in abundance, with a jaunty attitude that will particularly entertain those who already love the Indiana Jones movies and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011).

Errol Flynn takes the lead as the Australian Terry Forbes, who hopes to do as much damage to the Nazis as possible while trying to escape from Germany with his comrades. Regular Flynn sidekick Alan Hale, Sr., plays his Scottish pal, Kirk Edwards (with no attempt at a Scottish accent or anything like it), while future US President Ronald Reagan plays the intrepid American, Johnny Hammond. Joining the trio are Arthur Kennedy as pragmatic Canadian Jed Forrest and Ronald Sinclair as young Englishman Lloyd Hollis II, the son of a famous English pilot from the previous world war. Trapped behind enemy lines and initially captured, the group rushes to get out of Nazi territory with valuable information they've nabbed during their brief period as POWs. Along the way, they encounter constant danger from the enemy as well as unexpected help from the sympathetic Kaethe Brahms (Nancy Coleman).

Given the time and place in which it was made, it probably goes without saying that Desperate Journey is meant to be a patriotic morale booster for Americans and other Allies, with our noble heroes representing the US, Australia, Canada, England, and Scotland. Like Casablanca (1942), the movie takes place before the United States enters the war, so the protagonists are all fighting for the Royal Air Force in spite of their varied backgrounds. The peril they face is real, and several characters die to prove it, but overall it makes escaping from Nazi Germany look more like a daring adventure than a traumatic ordeal. Most of the Nazis are interchangeable goons, and some, including the one played by Sig Ruman, are buffoons, while Raymond Massey is more formidable as the main villain, Major Baumeister. The boys spend most of the movie in stolen Nazi uniforms, repeatedly blending into groups of soldiers and then being revealed as imposters, which gives them an opportunity to bash heads, grab guns, and make a run for the exit. They have little time to grieve their own dead as the action propels them ever forward, right up to the very end of the picture, but like most action teams they manage to work in plenty of quips and witticisms as they go.

Lively performances from the leads and entertaining, near-constant action prop up the simple plot and overtly patriotic message, with Flynn and Reagan splitting the best lines and scenes. Reagan deftly handles a great comedic bit where Johnny spouts technical nonsense in lieu of aviation secrets to Major Baumeister, while Flynn and Hale are very much in their element with the mix of fight scenes and banter so familiar to fans of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and their other films together. Hale probably does the seed spitting gag a few too many times, but his character has a compelling backstory as a WWI veteran who planned to sit out the latest conflict until his son was killed at Dunkirk. Ronald Sinclair fills the obligatory "kid" role for the bunch with perfect innocence and pathos, while Arthur Kennedy plays a more restrained part as the group's voice of reason. Nancy Coleman isn't in the picture much, but her presence relieves the all-boys atmosphere for a few scenes, and there's just the faintest sense of a wrong time, wrong place romance between Kaethe and Terry. The movie spends much more of its time on the planes, trains, and automobiles that the heroes use to make a break for the German border, with an especially elaborate car chase in the third act leading up to a grand finale involving a stolen plane.

As befits an action movie of this type, Desperate Journey was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Special Effects, which it lost to Reap the Wild Wind (1942). Ronald Reagan also starred in the small town melodrama, Kings Row in 1942, before he was called away for military service - primarily making training films - for the remainder of the war. See more of Errol Flynn and Alan Hale, Sr., in Dodge City (1939), The Sea Hawk (1940), and Gentleman Jim (1942), the last of which was also directed by Raoul Walsh. For another picture with Walsh, Flynn, and Arthur Kennedy, see They Died with Their Boots On (1941). Desperate Journey was the final acting performance of New Zealand native and child actor Ronald Sinclair, who appeared in a series of Five Little Peppers movies. After serving in the US Army in WWII, Sinclair became a film editor and worked on many pictures with Roger Corman as well as later hits like Die Hard (1988) and Die Hard 2 (1990).

Build-Your-Own-Blogathon: Bad Apples in BEND OF THE RIVER (1952)

This post is part of the Build-Your-Own-Blogathon hosted by the Classic Film and TV Cafe. It follows Caftan Woman's discussion of T-Men (1947), which shares its director, Anthony Mann, with Bend of the River (1952). Visit the Classic Film and TV Cafe for a complete list of the blogs participating in this blogathon!



"That kind can't change. When an apple's rotten, there's nothing you can do except throw it away or it will spoil the whole barrel." - Jeremy Baile

Director Anthony Mann collaborated with Jimmy Stewart on a number of excellent Westerns, including the 1952 film, Bend of the River, which takes the rugged country of the Pacific Northwest as its frontier territory. It's a story about gold fever, moral decay, and second chances, with Stewart as a former outlaw trying to turn over a new leaf as an honest man. Stewart's Glyn McLyntock is, of course, a good apple, no matter how shady his past, but the movie also presents us with a parade of foils and variations on the same theme. Jay C. Flippen and Chubby Johnson play for the angels as the movie's older good men, with Flippen especially crucial to Stewart's character as the leader of the Oregon settlers, but the less exemplary characters prove far more numerous. Arthur Kennedy and Rock Hudson play men whose moral compasses need more recalibration than Stewart's, while Howard Petrie depicts the rapid transformation of a good man gone wrong over gold, and Harry Morgan plays one of the dirtiest little apples ever seen in a Western barrel. These slippery, complicated performances help make Bend of the River a smart study of psychology as well as an exciting frontier adventure, and the bad apples inform our understanding of the hero's own inner struggle.

"$100,000 is a lot of money." - Emerson Cole (Arthur Kennedy)

Glyn's primary counterpart throughout the picture is Kennedy's Emerson Cole, a man who has so much in common with Glyn that Glyn tends to think of their destinies as inextricably linked. Cole shares Glyn's past as a raider, and he has enough integrity to appreciate it when Glyn saves his life, but Cole lacks the essential strength of character that sets Glyn apart. Cole likes fast living and violence; he's quick to draw his gun, even when lesser measures would suffice. Kennedy plays Cole as an enigma at first, encouraging us to like him even when we don't trust him, but the lure of wealth proves too much for him to resist. Even the love of Laura (Julie Adams) means nothing to him once a fortune comes within reach. Glyn offers him multiple chances at true redemption, but Cole succumbs to greed.

"You're real fast with that gun, kid, but you're soft." - Emerson Cole (Arthur Kennedy)

Hudson's handsome young gambler, Trey Wilson, makes the relationship between Glyn and Cole into a triangle. His essential nature is ambiguous early on; as a gambler, he is clearly a man who values money, but he doesn't like to kill. Cole even scolds him for being too soft-hearted. Trey throws in with Glyn and Cole without much thought, and he doesn't have to choose between them until it becomes clear that the two older men are moving in starkly different directions. Even then, Trey keeps his cards hidden, so that we're never quite sure which side he's on until the very end of the film. Trey actually fills two Western character types at once. Despite his worldly demeanor and flashy clothes, he is also this film's version of the Kid who has to decide which model of masculinity he wants to embrace; he can chase wealth and become like Cole, or he can do the right thing and emulate Glyn.

"I could get fifty times what you paid for that food. It's gold, do you understand, gold!" - Tom Hendricks (Howard Petrie)

Howard Petrie plays Tom Hendricks, the Portland official who first welcomes the settlers with open arms but later betrays their trust by reselling their winter supplies at wildly inflated prices. If Hendricks seems a little too friendly at first, that merely sets the stage for his later corruption, when we see him at his overflowing money table with a mad gleam in his eyes. Hendricks' fall mirrors that of the entire community; when Glyn and Jeremy (Jay C. Flippen) return to Portland looking for their supplies, they find the formerly pleasant town transformed into a filthy den of violence, greed, and lust. Hendricks is so far gone that he doesn't care if his double dealing costs the settlers their lives; he is even willing to kill Glyn and Jeremy to protect his financial interest. Tellingly, Cole doesn't seem to process the warning of Hendricks' fate; he's too busy shooting Hendricks' men while they try to run away.

"We're going to the gold camp with this food." - Shorty (Harry Morgan)

While most of the other flawed men in the film have some good qualities, Harry Morgan's Shorty is about as rotten as they come. Along with Red (Jack Lambert) and Long Tom (Royal Dano), Shorty never makes any move unless he's going to get paid for it. Shorty is a far cry from the uncertain but good-hearted character Morgan played in The Ox-Bow Incident (1943). He's a dirty, narrow-eyed sneak, always watching for the opportunity to take advantage of the others. He and the other workers conspire to hijack the food supply and sell it at the highest possible price in the gold mining camp; like Hendricks, they don't care if the settlers starve to death as a result. Unlike Hendricks, Shorty and his pals were never good in the first place. Their worst scene comes when they intentionally drop a wagon on Jeremy, Glyn, and Cole in an effort to murder all three at once.

"Any man can make a mistake." - Laura (Julie Adams)

These men run the gamut in terms of moral character, and each one shapes his own fate through his choices. The corruption of the weaker men reminds us how much is at stake in Glyn's struggle for redemption. Glyn knows that the kind of life he once led can only end badly, but his determination to do right and take a harder path makes him a hero in this story more than any skill with a rifle or knife. While there are plenty of bad apples in Bend of the River, they only make the good ones look that much better.

Classic Films in Focus: LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (1962)

Like its protagonist, Lawrence of Arabia (1962) has become the stuff of legend, a film so critically acclaimed and celebrated that it is difficult to come to the picture itself without preconceived notions. It won seven Oscars in 1963, including Best Picture and Best Director for David Lean, with ten nominations in all to attest to its immediate success. It is, of course, an epic story told on a grand scale, with sweeping desert landscapes and camels silhouetted against the sun. It is also, however, a very personal and tragic account of a man who seeks greatness but finds it an excruciating burden to bear, a man whose sanity seems to hang in the balance even at the best of times. It is this aspect of the story, as much as its visual grandeur, that makes Lawrence of Arabia an enduringly compelling film.

Peter O’Toole takes center stage as the legendary T.E. Lawrence, a British officer stationed in Arabia during World War I. Lawrence sets out on an impossible quest to unite the Arab tribes against the Ottoman Empire, and he eventually becomes the leader of a surprisingly effective Arab army. His feats attract the notice of many powerful men, including Prince Feisal (Alec Guinness), General Allenby (Jack Hawkins), and the American journalist Jackson Bentley (Arthur Kennedy). Lawrence, however, struggles with the bloody experience of war and his own fame and suffers many painful losses during his time in the desert.

Lean’s direction merges characters and setting into a story that unfolds like a religious epic, with Lawrence as both messiah and madman (which might be the same thing). Lawrence’s essential difference from everyone around him and his constant, terrible suffering only increase his charismatic power, which rapidly evolves into something far beyond his control. He very much resembles Lancelot, the ill-made knight, as T.H. White imagines him in The Once and Future King. Behind the heroic posture lurks a dark side, a violent, sadistic urge that is also masochistic. All of these things are suggested in the thorniest moments of the story, when Lawrence is tortured by the Turks and later leads a massacre of retreating Turkish troops. Tragedy is ultimately his portion, which the film makes clear by opening with his death.

Peter O’Toole is justly applauded for his role as the enigmatic protagonist, but Lawrence of Arabia also features brilliantly nuanced performances from the supporting players. Omar Sharif’s Sherif Ali is the closest thing Lawrence has to a romantic interest; the dynamics of their relationship, which serves as the heart of the picture, prove endlessly complex. Alec Guinness plays Prince Feisal as a polished, calculating politician, one we aren’t meant to trust any more than we do the British leaders who see Lawrence as a PR opportunity and an expendable catspaw, while Anthony Quinn acts as foil to Guinness in the part of the rougher, louder Auda Abu Tayi. Claude Rains only appears in a few scenes, but he makes those count, and Arthur Kennedy gives a very sharp performance as the opportunistic reporter.

Come for the splendid scenery, by all means, but stay for the story. The truth about T.H. Lawrence might be shrouded in myth and rumor, as it was even in his own lifetime, but he was beyond doubt an extraordinary man, just as Lawrence of Arabia is an extraordinary film.

For more of David Lean’s most memorable pictures, try Brief Encounter (1945), Great Expectations (1946), and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). See Peter O’Toole in The Lion in Winter (1968) and The Ruling Class (1972). Omar Sharif also stars in Lean’s Oscar-winning drama, Doctor Zhivago (1965).

Note: A shorter version of this review can be found on Examiner.com.