Harrison's Reports (1958)

110 HARRISON'S REPORTS July 12, 1958 "The Naked and the Dead" with Aldo Ray, Cliff Robertson and Raymond Massey (Warner Bros., Aug. 9; time, 131 min.) As a novel, Norman Mailer's "The Naked and the Dead" was highly successful and was acclaimed as one of the great stories of World War II. Unfortunately, the screen version, which has been photographed in WarnerScope and Techni' color, shapes up as no more than a fairly good war action melodrama that is overlong and quite tedious in spots. It probably will leave much to be desired insofar as those who read the book are concerned, for there is little similarity between the novel and the screenplay. Moreover, the realistic quality of the novel, and its pungent exposition of life in the armed services and of the vagaries of officers in com' mand of the fighting men, are lacking in the screen version. Instead, it presents characters who never impress one as be' ing real, and the things they do are, for the most part, either implausible or lacking in conviction. There is nothing pleas' ant about the story, and several of the scenes are decidedly distasteful, such as the one in which Aldo Ray, as a tough, sadistic sergeant, spits a mouthful of beer directly into the bosom of a B-girl who makes a play for him in a saloon. The combat sequences have been staged impressively and are tense and exciting. Less successful, however, is the presen' tation of the conflict between Raymond Massey, as a smug general who believes that his power must be feared, and Cliff Robertson, as a humanized lieutenant, who defies him. Their verbal encounters slow down the action considerably, and their dialogue, which is concerned with their ideals and principles, is frequently too abstract to hold one's interest. The direction is uneven and the acting so'so. The fame of the book should, of course, help draw customers to the boxoffice, but the picture lacks the exceptional — it presents little that has not been seen in countless other war films, often to better advantage. The story, which "wanders all over the lot," opens with the invasion of a Japanese-held jungle island by troops under Massey's command, and centers mainly around the activities of a platoon headed by Ray, an embittered, sadistic sergeant, who drives his men without pity but who does not hesitate to take any risks himself. Ray's murderous tactics toward helpless enemy prisoners disgust even his own men and they mark him as one who enjoys killing. After the troops secure a foothold on the island, Massey appoints as his aide Robertsbn, a lieutenant and son of an old friend. When Robertson openly criticizes other officers for having better food and quarters than the enlisted men, he comes into con' flict with Massey, who claims that the more enlisted men hate their officers the harder they will fight. Robertson openly defies this theory and incurs the wrath of Massey who, as punishment, orders him to command Ray's platoon on a reconnoitering mission. The mission proves to be extremely dangerous and Robertson wants to turn back for the safety of the men, but Ray, blinded by a burning desire to exterminate the Japs, tricks Robertson into believing that there is no danger. As a result Robertson is wounded seriously when the platoon proceeds through a mountain pass. Ray orders three of the men to carry Robertson back to headquarters on a stretcher and, despite the protests of the others, orders them to continue the mission. This fool' hardy move results in the death of several of the men, in' eluding Ray himself. Meanwhile the wounded Robertson is delivered safely behind the lines and, when Massey comes to visit him, he points out that his rescue had been accomplished, not out of fear, but because of man's humanity toward man. William Campbell, Richard Jaeckel, James Best, Joey Bishop and Jerry Paris are among those who play the parts of enlisted men. Lili St. Cyr appears briefly as a stripper in a night'dub, and Barbara Nichols is seen in one flashback sequence as Ray's unfaithful wife — the cause of his bitterness. It was produced by Paul Gregory and directed by Raoul Walsh from a screenplay by Denis and Terry Sanders. Adult fare. "MachineGun Kelly" with Charles Bronson, Susan Cabot and Morey Amsterdam (Amer.'Int'I, May; time, 84 min.) If strong gangster melodramas are acceptable to your patrons, this one should satisfy them easily. Supposedly biographical of the criminal career of "Machine Gun" Kelly, one of the country's most notorious gangsters during the early 1930's, the story, like other stories dealing with gang' sters, is filled with brutal killings and holdups until the final reel, where the criminals, always tailed by the police, either are exterminated or surrender. Charles Bronson turns in a competent acting job as Kelly, portraying the gangster as one who is courageous only when he has a machine-gun in his hands, and who is viciously sadistic in demanding obedience from his followers. On the whole the story is decidedly unpleasant, particularly with regard to the kidnapping of a little girl. The picture is being sold with "The Bonnie Parker Story" in a double-bill package: — Bronson, accompanied by Susan Cabot, his girl, and members of his gang, successfully hold up a small-town bank and make a getaway. After transferring the money to Morey Amsterdam, another accomplice, they meet at his home to divide the loot. Amsterdam is caught trying to hold out part of the stolen money and, as punishment, the gang excludes him from sharing. Another holdup fails when one of the gang is killed and another wounded. Bronson and Susan escape and hide out in the home of her parents. During their stay there, Susan learns that one of the gang members planned to kill Bronson because the last holdup had failed. She warns Bronson and encourages him to kill the fellow. Finding bank robberies too dangerous, Bronson and Susan kidnap a wealthy man's daughter and her nurse. Ransom arrangements are made, and Bronson persuades Amsterdam to join the deal. Amsterdam picks up the ransom money and is guided to the hideout by another of Branson's henchmen. But the police, who had been tipped off by Amsterdam, close in. Furious, Bronson kill both Amsterdam and Susan but, being too scared to fight, he surrenders to the police. It was produced and directed by Roger Corman from a screenplay by R. Wright Campbell. Morally unobjectionable, but the subject matter makes it best suitable for adults. "The Bonnie Parker Story" with Dorothy Provine, Jack Hogan and Richard Bakalyan (Amer.-Int'I, May 28; time, 79 min.) Like "Machine Gun Kelly," with which it is being sold in a double-bill package, "The Bonnie Parker Story," too, is a well produced gangster melodrama that should satisfy those who enjoy pictures of this type. And this story, too, is supposedly biographical of a real criminal, except that in this case the leading character is a woman — Bonnie Parker, a tough cigar-smoking gun moll and murderess, whose daring exploits in the Southwest made newspaper headlines in the 1930's. It is a violent, unpleasant story, with plentiful brutality and killings, made realistic by good direction and semi-documentary treatment. The names of the players will mean nothing on a marquee but the acting is good and a most capable performance is turned in by Dorothy Provine in the leading role. The photography is good: — While Richard Bakalyan, her notorious bank robberhusband, does time in a Texas jail, Dorothy works as a waitress in a cheap restaurant. She explains to the manager that her husband's reputation has marked her as a "bad egg," too, and for that reason she was unable to get a decent job. Moreover, she was constantly bothered by thugs and bums who knew that she lived alone. One day Jack Hogan, a smalltime punk who had just bought a machine gun, induces Dorothy to join him in a life of crime and they embark on a series of small holdups. Chased by a motorcycle cop, they kill him and follow this crime with a wild robbing and killing spree that terrorizes the Southwest. They hole up in