THE SINGER NOT THE SONG (1961)

Some film projects seem to have been conceived in hell, this one looks like it was dreamed up in Hellzapoppin!Directed by the usually sane Roy Ward Baker, THE SINGER NOT THE SONG is, at first glance one of those pseudo-westerns that the English used to occasionally have the urge to make back in the Fifties and early Sixties whenever otherwise respectable British thespians wanted to dress up and play cowboys. They are pseudo-westerns inasmuch as they were set usually in Australia (ROBBERY UNDER ARMS) or South Africa (THE HELLIONS). I'm not quite sure whether THE SINGER NOT THE SONG is set in Mexico or Spain or some fantasy Spaghetti Western Land. Whatever, the result is a scream with John Mills as a Catholic priest assigned to a rural village that is terrorized by bandit Dirk Bogarde. A strange role, you might think, for Bogarde, a closet queen who publically denied his sexuality who plays, the bandit in tight black leather pants, carries a whip and is obviously attracted to the priest. But Bogarde did not shy away from roles like those in VICTIM or DEATH IN VENICE. Here, however, it is hard to know quite what to make of his performance - a perfect English accent and the general demeanor of his Simon Sparrow character in the DOCTOR series. The film is probably not helped by knowing that John Mills disliked working with Bogarde who (whatever his considerable skills as an actor) always came over as a bit of a spiteful old Queen) and that Bogarde felt that Mills was miscast and not "pretty" enough for the part. Of course this was 1961 and the gay sub-text is played down by a "beard" in the delightful form of Mylene Demongeot as the girl who seemingly loves both bandit and priest. Despite being played absolutely straight (if you'll pardon the expression in this context) it is great fun when viewed today. The supporting cast is a collection of wonderful British character actors chosen, obviously, for their swarthy complexions and ability to sweat, and includes Erich Pohlmann, Roger Delagardo, Laurence Payne. John Bentley seems somewhat miscast as the police chief with a flawless English accent. Best of all though is the usually so-respectable Laurence Naismith (a specialist in playing Lords, Judges, Politicians etc and fondly remembered as THE AMAZING MR.BLUNDEN) going totally over the top as a feelthy cheroot chomping, sombrero wearing, sweating Mexican bandito), The final lust in the dust shootout is a hoot. Rating ***

3.10 TO YUMA (2007)

Recently, after viewing his film IDENTITY, I consigned James Mangold to a box labelled "Interesting". Presented with potentially terrific material like COPLAND or WALK THE LINE, this director seems to deliver disappointingly routine movies fuelled by a few good performances (given the undeniably talented actors he has worked with this is hardly surprising). His remake of Delmer Daves classic 1957 3.10 TO YUMA is another case of seemingly director proof material but this time the result isn't just routine it is downright bloody awful. The script for the original was stripped down to the essential and Daves was a good enough director to trust the dramatic thrust of his material without the needless totally unnecessary embellishments that sink the new version. Everything that the original signalled by shorthand is laboured here over and over and then underlined to make sure we didn't miss the point. The big climax of the movie defies description and must win a prize for one of the most OTT put on film with the character played by Russell Crowe acting so illologically that it beggars belief. The final scene seems to be trying to make some rather obvious point about redemption but then totally scuppers the meaning with a joke involving the character's horse. Christian Bale's character is such a pain in the arse that I kept hoping somebody would shoot him (unfortunately this happened far too late to lift my rapidly sinking spirits) and Russell Crowe (an actor I quite like) turns in the worst performance I've seen him give. Of the supporting cast only Peter Fonda seems to make anything of his role - an embittered Pinkerton Detective. If you decide to see it then try to see the original as well...Delmar Daves, Glenn Ford and Van Heflin win hands down. Rating *

THE WHITE BUFFALO (1977)

This film has been a favourite of mine since its original release. While I was never a huge fan of director J. Lee Thompson he did turn out a few bona-fide classics (such as ICE COLD IN ALEX and the original version of CAPE FEAR) and while THE WHITE BUFFALO may not match those it does achieve a rather unique atmosphere with its tale of a nightmare ridden Wild Bill Hickok pursuing a mystical white buffalo. Charles Bronson gives one of his very best performances as Hickok, slowly loosing his sight and suffering from syphilis. The supporting cast is one to relish with Jack Warden, Will Sampson (as Crazy Horse), Slim Pickens, John Carradine, Kim Novak, Clint Walker and Ed Lauter. One of the strongest elements of the movie is the script by Richard Sale (from his own novel) which has the real feeling of people trapped by their fate and powers beyond their control - plus some wonderfully authentic period dialog (which provided me with one of my favourite words in "flummery"). The film has recieved criticism for the actual appearance of Carlo Rimbaldi's animatronic giant white buffalo (there is, to be sure, an unfortunate shot that reveals the tracks on which the beast runs) but generally I feel that the "not quite real" quality adds to atmosphere...and we must remember that this was in the days before CGI. Rating ***