William Holden Seeks Revenge!

William Holden as Mr. Benedict.

Between 1969 and 1972, William Holden made three Westerns: the first was a bona fide classic (Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch); the second was taken out of the director's control and became a notorious flop (Wild Rovers), and the third was a conventional revenge tale that borrowed its premise from The Dirty Dozen (1967). That last film, creatively titled The Revengers, is the subject of today's review.

Holden plays John Benedict, a former Cavalry officer who has settled down to raise horses and a family. His idyllic existence is shattered when a band of ruffians kill his wife and children while he's hunting a wounded cougar. Consumed with vengeance, he tracks down one of the murderers and learns that their leader has retreated to a well-protected hideout in Mexico.

Knowing that he will be outnumbered, Benedict visits a prison camp where the crooked commandant "sells" prisoners to work in mines. Benedict agrees to pay a premium if he can select his laborers--which he intends to use for his personal posse.

Ernest Borgnine looking grubby.

The relationship between Benedict and his men is the most interesting aspect of The Revengers. When he frees them, most of the former convicts abandon him...only to return the next day. Having spent their money, they have nothing more interesting to do! But as time passes, they develop respect and loyalty to Mr. Benedict and his quest becomes their quest.

The youngest rider, a Mexican named Chamaco, imagines that he is Benedict's son (conceived when the older man visited his birth town as a Cavalry officer). When he mentions this unlikely possibility to Benedict, the older man--who is still grieving the loss of his son--angrily rejects Chamaco. The young Mexican then shoots Benedict, apparently killing him. This paves the way for a much-too-long rehabilitation sequence with Susan Hayward, which supposedly causes Benedict to reevaluate his motives.

Woody Strode looking stoic.

William Holden lacks fire as Benedict, displaying none of the intensity that he captured so well in The Wild Bunch. Most of the supporting cast makes little impact, although Ernest Borgnine (Holden's brilliant co-star in The Wild Bunch) is colorful and Woody Strode exudes a powerfully calm screen presence. Mexican actor Jorge Luke is also convincing as the young Chamaco.

The Revengers marked Susan Hayward's return to the screen after a five-year absence following 1967's Valley of the Dolls. Alas, she has little to do as a lonely nurse who becomes attracted to Benedict.

I saw The Revengers with my parents when it was released theatrically. If it seems like an odd choice for a family film, I can explain. My mother would go see any movie with William Holden! Although Dad didn't say it, I'm sure he was disappointed. This Holden movie didn't have Kim Novak.

An Interview with Sunset Blvd's Nancy Olson Livingston

Actress Nancy Olson Livingston shot to fame at the age of 22 when she earned a Best Supporting Actress nomination for Sunset Blvd. (1950). She subsequently became one of the most in-demand actresses of the 1950s, starring alongside William Holden (Union Station, Force of Arms, etc.), John Wayne (Big Jim McLain), Jane Wyman (So Big), Bing Crosby (Mr. Music), and Van Heflin (Battle Cry). Nancy reduced her workload in the late 1950s to spend more time with her family. However, she made occasional guest appearances on TV series such as Alfred Hitchcock Presents and The Big Valley. She also starred on Broadway in The Tunnel of Love, Send Me No Flowers, and Mary, Mary. Starting in 1960, Nancy Olson Livingtson appeared in five Walt Disney films over a 12-year period, including Pollyanna, The Absent-Minded Professor, and Snowball Express. Her autobiography A Front Row Seat: An Intimate Look at Broadway, Hollywood, and the Age of Glamour will be published this November.

Café:  How would you describe your experience of working with director Billy Wilder on Sunset Blvd.?

Nancy Olson in Canadian Pacific.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  It was a profound experience because I had only done one picture before Sunset Blvd. That was Canadian Pacific (1949) with Randolph Scott, who was old enough to be my father. At least, I had the experience of being in front of the camera and knowing what the set-up was and how it operated. I was also going to UCLA and majoring in theater arts. I was under contract to Paramount, which lent me to 20th Century-Fox to do Canadian Pacific. I was fascinated that I could walk around the Paramount lot and go to the commissary to have lunch. I did that to get acquainted with what the studio was all about. I certainly knew who Billy Wilder was. I had seen his films and I was a great admirer of his work. He would stop me on the lot and engage me in long conversations: “What was it like to be born and raised in the Midwest? Your father is a doctor, what was that like? Tell me about your college life at UCLA.” It was bizarre. Why in the world would Billy Wilder want to know all these things? When I was cast in Sunset Blvd. and read the script, I realized that my character, Betty Schaefer, was an aspiring writer. She had to innately have a way of speaking that would make you believe she was a writer. She had to be able to speak well, to use language well, to be confident. I eventually came to understand that’s why I was cast. I would visit the set before I started my scenes and was always warmly welcomed. I worked with Edith Head, who did the wardrobes, and I was wearing what she wanted me to wear. And Billy said: “I don’t like that. I like what she wore yesterday when she came to visit.” So, I wore my own clothes in Sunset Blvd. I had not been in California long enough to know where to shop. I did not have a great wardrobe. What was absolutely clear was that Billy Wilder wanted me to be me. Betty Schaefer was me.

Café:  What was your biggest challenge in Sunset Blvd.?

Nancy Olson Livingston:  The first day of work. It’s my first scene in the movie where Betty comes into the office of this producer and asks about the script that Joe Gillis (William Holden), who was sitting there, wrote. Betty didn’t know who Joe Gillis was, so she was very honest about what she thought about the script. We rehearsed that scene several times. When I said that we were ready, Billy said “Shoot!” and we started the scene. There was a moment where I kind of stuttered a little, but I kept going. When the scene was finished, I said: “Please, Mr. Wilder (eventually I called him Billy), could we please do it again?” I didn’t feel totally comfortable at that moment. But he said: “Nope. It was fine.” Now, this is something that Shirley MacLaine and I talked about years later. He never wanted to shoot a scene more than once. You often had the feeling that you could do it a little better, that you didn’t bring something into it that you wanted to. I was upset about that. But I learned that you better know what you’re doing from the beginning.

Café:  Why do you think Sunset Blvd. continues to resonate with film fans over 70 years after it was made?

Nancy Olson Livingston:  Sunset Blvd. resonates not only with film fans, but with the general public. I had an experience about a year ago when I went into Saks Fifth Avenue and I walked into the cosmetics department. This man, who was the general manager, suddenly came over to me and said: “I know who you are. I saw Sunset Blvd. three weeks ago. You’re Nancy Olson.” I was 91 or 92. When you watch Sunset Blvd., it’s old-fashioned—the clothes, the cars, everything is of a different era. And yet, it has an up-to-date understanding. It feels today. And that is because it reveals the truth. I wrote about that in my book: “Sunset Blvd. tells the brutal truth about a part of the motion picture business and how it can ruin one’s life. To be exploited for other people’s profit can be both painful and humiliating. Even though one is paid sometimes a great deal and receives tremendous ego-fulfilling rewards, to be portrayed as larger than life is distorting and destroys the delicate balance between reality and fantasy.” Everything about Sunset Blvd. tells the truth. Joe Gillis is a desperate man who is at the end of his rope. He can’t pay his car loan. He can’t pay his rent. And when he gets into Norma Desmond’s house, he decides to sell his soul for his survival. And Betty Schaefer, my character, falls in love with this man who has sold his soul. It’s about human nature. It’s about who we all are and how we conduct our lives. Movie stars were a commodity back then. Marilyn Monroe is a perfect example. She was so exaggerated, but she was also vulnerable. She was created bigger and bigger than she really was. Ultimately, movie stars are thrown away, like Norma Desmond and, to a great extent, Marilyn Monroe. So, Sunset Blvd. survives because it tells the truth about an aspect of life which is kind of generally true.

Café:  I also think Sunset Blvd. has one of the great openings in movie history, with Joe’s body floating in the swimming pool as he provides the voice-over narration.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  You want to know what the real beginning was? It was filmed with bodies in a morgue. Joe is under the sheets with all the other bodies and he starts to talk with them. When the studio showed the movie at a test showing, the audience laughed. People thought it was funny and kind of ridiculous. So, Billy went back and re-edited and started at the point where Joe’s body is floating in the pool.

Café:  You made four films with William Holden, whom you have described as a good friend. What do you think was the secret to the onscreen chemistry between the two of you?

Nancy Olson and William Holden in Sunset Blvd.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  We were very alike. He was from Pasadena. I was from Milwaukee. There was a common ground. We really began to love each other. I was married. He was married. He did make a slight pass at me during the shooting of Sunset Blvd., which I’ve written about. It became so clear to him that nothing was going to ever happen. That was the end of it and we became friends. We loved hugging and kissing (laughs). I don’t know why, but it felt wonderful and comforting to be held by him. We enjoyed each other and we liked each other. Years after Bill and I had stopped working together, I was at an airport with my husband Alan Livingston and, as we were walking to board a plane, I heard a voice from behind me: “Nancy!” I turned around and it was Bill. I cried out: “Bill!” And we spontaneously ran as fast as we could and went into an embrace. He gave me a kiss and said: “My God, how are you? I haven’t seen you for two years. I understand you’re remarried now. Are you happy?” It was one of those things. A man was walking by as we were talking and laughing and he taps us on the shoulder: “Excuse me, but this is better than watching an old movie.” 

Café:  You starred in five Walt Disney films over 12 years, starting with Pollyanna in 1960. What led to your Disney connection?

Nancy Olson in The Absent-Minded Professor.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  I had not done a movie for a long time and figured I wasn’t going to do another movie. I did not want to be a movie star. That was a lesson I learned in Sunset Blvd. Being a movie star was isolating and lonely and unreal. I was 32 and I thought it was over. So, I am in Majorca, picking up my children who were visiting their father and stepmother. And I got a phone call and it was Mr. Disney. He said: “Nancy, this is Walt Disney. We are working on a movie here and are spending a lot more money than we usually do. It’s an all-star cast. Every part has been cast with a star. We have John Mills’ daughter, Hayley, who is fantastic, to play Pollyanna. We have Jane Wyman, Richard Egan, Karl Malden, Adolphe Menjou, Agnes Moorehead…and we want you.” I thought that was interesting. He said they were shooting at the end of August. I was planning on going to California to visit my parents anyway. I was living in New York at the time. But I had to bring the children back to school. Walt said I’d be finished by the middle of September. I said I had a governess who could take the kids back to school. I told him: “You know something…I’ll do it.” And that began my work with Walt Disney. I enjoyed it. My children had fun coming and visiting me on the set. I finished Pollyanna and thought that was the end of it. I never even asked what he was going to pay me. That wasn’t an issue. About a year later, I get a call from my agent saying that Disney is doing The Absent-Minded Professor with Fred MacMurray and wanted me for Fred’s love interest. Fred was twenty years older than me. Casting at that time was really out of whack. I loved Fred MacMurray’s work. He was a brilliant actor. He just had a natural sense for it. I read The Absent-Minded Professor script and decided I'd do it. I made it and then went back to New York. The next year, they decided to do a sequel because The Absent-Minded Professor was a huge success. So, I did Son of Flubber. By the way, sequels are never as good as the original. At least, that’s my opinion. I felt very comfortable on the Disney lot. Walt Disney made everyone call him Walt—including the grips. There was a unique friendliness that pervaded the lot. It was interesting and different from any place I’d ever worked before. I think Walt Disney was from the Midwest, too, and a homespun, middle-class kind of background. He was a Republican. I’m a big Democrat. Fred MacMurray was a big Republican, so the two of them got along wonderfully. Fred grew up in Wisconsin so the two of us had a kind of bond and told stories to each other about our experiences growing up. Because I wanted to work every once in a while, the Disney folks would call me. I did Smith! (1969) with Glenn Ford and Snowball Express (1972) with Dean Jones, which was not a very good film. But if you ever see Snowball Express, that was the absolute best that I ever looked when I was photographed. I saw it the other day and I was amazed. 

Café:  I think the first half of Snowball Express was pretty good, but the second half just turns silly.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  But don’t you agree that I look very well photographed?

Café:  Well, you always looked good in your films. Now, you appeared with many of the biggest stars of the 1950s and 1960s: William Holden, Jane Wyman, Fred MacMurray, John Wayne, Bing Crosby, and Glenn Ford. Who were some of your favorite co-stars and why?

John Wayne and Nancy Olson in Big Jim McLain.

Nancy Olson Livingston: Making Big Jim McLain with John Wayne was an interesting experience. It was a terrible script. When I read it, I thought that nobody was going to see this film. It’ll come out, get terrible reviews, and get shown on Saturday nights with another big film. But I thought I should have the experience of working with a true icon like John Wayne and it was made in Honolulu, which I loved. I found John Wayne to be an amazing person and very mysterious as to who he really was. Everybody called him Duke; I called him John. He never corrected me. We became really wonderful friends. For years, whenever we saw each other, we embraced and were happy to see each other. He was not the least flirtatious. Now, Bing Crosby had cold blue eyes. He put himself at a distance from almost everyone. He had a group of cronies around all the time, buttering him up. However, he and I became friends. The whole cast, crew, and director (of Mr. Music) treated me like I was a kind of charming child and that was odd. I was beginning to date Alan Lerner, my first husband, so it didn’t much matter. But I realized I was much too young to play opposite Bing as his love interest. When I was in Battle Cry, my marriage to Alan Lerner was beginning to have terrible problems. He ultimately married eight times, so he was a man with problems. I was too young and naïve to understand them, because he was fascinating and brilliant and would be with the most interesting people. He knew the best writers and producers in New York and the theatre was extremely interesting at that time. I was very happy to marry him, but it eventually became obvious it was not going to end well. There was a point where Warner Bros. called and asked if I would do Battle Cry. I said yes. There were so many stars in Battle Cry that I had a limited story with Aldo Ray. Aldo, bless him, kind of fell in love with me. I needed that. Please understand that we never had an affair. But when we had a long scene, he would prolong it--and it felt good. 

Café:  Excluding Sunset Blvd., what was your favorite of your films and why?

Nancy Olson Livingston:  The first thing that pops in my head is The Absent-Minded Professor, because it was so much fun and such a wonderful script. Fred MacMurray was marvelous. But there were very few films that lived up to Sunset Blvd. That was just an amazing experience.

Café:  You played Lloyd Bridges’ wife in the 1984 TV series Paper Dolls, which revolved around the fashion industry. How would you describe that experience?

Nancy Olson Livingston:  I only worked one or two days a week and maybe not at all the next week. It was a great cast and we all became friends. It was a nice interruption and just fun to be on a set and act a little.

Café:  Were there any roles you turned down or wish you had pursued during your career?

Nancy Olson Livingston:  No. My acting career was only a third of my life and eventually an eighth of my life. It was interesting, but it was not my life. As I write about in my book, my experiences outside of films were just as interesting or more so. Life is a fascinating, extraordinary experience. I’ve lived a long time and I’ve been extremely lucky. I was lucky having the parents I did, growing up where I did, how I grew up. Even my first marriage, which ended so painfully, had its moments. My Fair Lady was dedicated to me. I sat there and watched it being created. I had the most amazing experiences with my second husband, Alan Livingston, the president of Capitol Records. He started at Capitol after he got out of the Army and college. He went to Paramount, where they wanted him to write children’s albums, which he had never even thought of doing. But he created Bozo the Clown and other albums that became bestsellers. Then, he put Frank Sinatra with the right conductor and changed his whole career. He made Nat Cole a soloist instead of a pianist. Then, he left Capitol and went to NBC television and created Bonanza. After several years, he went back to Capitol and signed The Beach Boys. I gave parties for The Beatles and The Band. Alan Livingston ended up with the first American company in China. So, my life was varied and anybody who lives this long will have success and failure, happiness and heartbreak, sadness and joy. You can’t live this long without having all of it.

Café:  Thank you so much for much for taking the time to talk with us today.

Nancy Olson Livingston:  I enjoyed it.

A Front Row Seat: An Intimate Look at Broadway, Hollywood, and the Age of Glamour by Nancy Olson Livingston will be published by the University of Kentucky Press on November 15, 2022. It's 408 pages and features 44 black & white photos.

Van Cleef Seeks Revenge; Holden Steals Cattle!

Lee Van Cleef as Ryan.

Death Rides a Horse (1967).  As young Bill Meceita watches a vicious outlaw gang slaughter his family, he notes a distinguishing feature on each killer--a scar, an earring, a tattoo, a spur. Two decades later, a dead cowboy provides a key clue that reignites Bill's desire to avenge his family. As he tracks down the villains, he keeps encountering a man named Ryan (Lee Van Cleef). Recently paroled, the older Ryan has his own reasons for finding the same outlaws. Inevitably, Ryan and Bill team up to take down the outlaw's gang leader, who has become a successful (albeit crooked) businessman.

John Philip Law as Bill.

Like the previous year's blockbuster The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, Death Rides a Horse was written Luciano Vincenzoni, features music by Ennio Morricone, and, of course, stars Van Cleef. Thematically, though, it shares more in common with Leone's For a Few Dollars More (1965). Each film features two men pursuing the same villain independently, though they eventually have to team up to accomplish their goal. Some film critics have claimed the two Spaghetti Westerns also share a mentor-protégé premise. That may be true of Death Rides a Horse, but Van Cleef's ex-colonel and Clint Eastwood's bounty hunter do not fit that mold in For a Few Dollars More. 

In the hands of director Giulio Petroni, Death Rides a Horse is an above-average Spaghetti Western punctuated with a handful of well-staged shootouts. The relationship between Ryan and Bill (John Philip Law) is well-developed, though the big twist is obvious from the moment Ryan is shown on screen. 

Unlike Eastwood, who moved back to Hollywood after his Spaghetti Western hits, Van Cleef remained in Europe until the late 1970s. His most successful non-Leone Western was probably Sabata (1969), though Death Rides a Horse has attained cult status over the years.

Alvarez Kelly (1966).  During the American Civil War, cattleman Alvarez Kelly delivers a herd of steers to the Union Army, who needs beef to feed its troops. However, Kelly barely has time to count his profits before he's kidnapped by the Confederates. They want him to help them steal the cattle for their troops!

Loosely based on a real-life event called the Beefsteak Raid, Alvarez Kelly squanders a promising premise and a strong cast. The film's central focus seems to be the relationship between the apathetic Kelly (William Holden) and a passionate Confederate colonel (Richard Widmark). To drive a deeper wedge between the men, the script includes a hasty subplot in which Kelly helps the colonel's fiancée (a poorly-utilized Janice Rule) escape from the surrounded Virginia capital of Richmond. Despite this, the audience is led to believe that Kelly and the colonel can still become "frenemies."

Standard fare like Alvarez Kelly and Paris When It Sizzles (1964) stifled Holden's career in the mid-1960s. Fortunately, it got a huge shot in the arm when Sam Peckinpah cast Holden as the lead in The Wild Bunch (1969). Richard Widmark wasn't as lucky, though he got a juicy role as an NYC detective in Madigan (1968) and its belated TV series (which aired under one of NBC's Mystery Movies in 1972-73).

William Holden Leads the Devil's Brigade

Holden as the brigade commander.

A year after the boxoffice hit The Dirty Dozen (1967), David L. Wolper produced another World War II action film about a band of misfits transformed into an efficient combat unit. The differences are that The Devil's Brigade (1968) was based on fact and paints its story on a larger canvas.

William Holden stars as Lieutenant Colonel Robert Frederick, who is tasked with forming a special forces brigade consisting of both American and Canadian soldiers. While the Canadian battalion is already combat-ready, the American unit is saddled with former prisoners and AWOL candidates. Plus, friction forms almost immediately between the disciplined Canadians commanded by Major Crown (Cliff Robertson) and the rambunctious Americans led (sort of) by cigar-crunching Major Bricker (Vince Edwards).

Robertson as Major Crown.

To Crown's puzzlement, Frederick encourages the rivalry between the two battalions. Learning that the Canadians were handpicked, one American soldier (Claude Akins) quips: "Where I come from, the only thing we pick by hand is little yellow daffodils."

However, as sometimes happens in action pictures, a barroom brawl--this one started by local lumberjacks--requires the two sides to work together. Having bonded, the men form a cohesive fighting unit. That's a good thing because the Brigade is soon tasked to take a Nazi-occupied mountain in Italy that no one else has been able to capture.

Even with the real-life Robert Frederick (who retired as a Major-General) as a consultant, it's hard to tell what was fact-based and what was created for dramatic intent in The Devil's Brigade. It is worth noting that, according to the book The Devil's Brigade (co-written by one its members), the barroom brawl incident actually took place and did contribute to team-building. The only significant difference is that the instigators were miners and not lumberjacks.

Claude Akins and Andrew Prine as two
of the American soldiers.

The cast is solid, though they are mostly saddled with stereotypical characters (e.g., Carroll O'Connor's blustery general, Jack Watson's straight-arrow corporal). That may be a result of trying to introduce the audience to too many members of the Devil's Brigade. Holden gets the most screen time, which affords him the opportunity to add some nuance to his mission-focused commander.

It's worth noting that Richard Jaeckel appeared in both The Devil's Brigade and The Dirty Dozen. Also, some non-actors of note make brief appearances: Green Bay Packers football star Paul Hornung, champion middleweight boxer Gene Fullmer, and stunt man/future film director Hal Needham.

Veteran director Andrew V. McLaglen (Victor's son) handles the large-scale action scenes with precision. He also make maximum use of the spectacular mountain scenery in Italy and Utah (which stands in for Montana, where the brigade actually trained).

The Devil's Brigade doesn't rank with the best World War II action movies, but it's a respectable effort that won't disappoint fans of this genre. As for the real-life 1st Special Service Force--the official name for the brigade--its surviving members were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in 2015.

There's a Spy in Stalag 17

William Holden as Sefton.

Considering it was made by one of Hollywood's most versatile directors, it's no surprise that Billy Wilder's Stalag 17 flows back and forth effortlessly between drama and comedy. Set in a German prisoner of war camp during World War II, the dramatic storyline focuses on a barracks in the midst of a streak of bad luck. The camp's commandant seems to know everything that happens among the prisoners--culminating in an ill-fated escape in which two American soldiers are gunned down.

The barracks' residents conclude there must be an informant hiding among them and their chief suspect is a wheeler-dealer named Sefton (William Holden). Sefton is determined to make his stay in Stalag 17 as comfortable as possible. He barters with his German captors and profits off his fellow prisoners by running gambling games (e.g., mice races) and selling moonshine (from his own still). None of his fellow soldiers like Sefton, except for the quiet Cookie, who functions as his assistant (and also serves as the film's narrator).

Convinced that Sefton is the barracks' spy, his fellow prisoners beat him severely. Proclaiming his innocence, Sefton warns the others that he will uncover the informant and seek retribution.

Made in 1953, Stalag 17 was based on the 1951 stage play written by Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski, who both spent time in a World War II prisoner of war camp. Jose Ferrer directed the stage version, which starred John Ericson (in his Broadway debut) as Sefton. Two members of the supporting cast, Harvey Lembeck and Robert Strauss, repeated their roles for the film version.

Harvey Lembeck and Robert Strauss.

Lembeck and Strauss provide most of the film's comedic scenes. Strauss portrays Stanislas "Animal" Kuzawa, whose obsession with Betty Grable leaves him perpetually depressed (except when there's an opportunity to spy on Russian female prisoners). Shapiro tries keep up his buddy's morale, although he's self-centered enough to let Animal think letters from a creditor are from Shapiro's lady admirers back home. Both roles border on stereotypes, so it's a credit to Strauss and especially Lembeck that they make these characters believable and amusing. Strauss earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor.

Holden with Gil Stratton
as "Cookie."

Billy Wilder always brought out the best in William Holden, who gives a gritty performance as Sefton, There's no attempt to whitewash the character. Sefton's only explanation for his opportunist ways is that within a week of his arrival at Stalag 17, his Red Cross package, blanket, and left shoe were stolen. Sefton is a loner; he has no friends and no interest in making them. He isn't even particularly nice to Cookie, though he prefers him to the other barracks residents. Holden won a Best Actor Oscar for his performance, though supposedly he thought it was atonement for not winning in 1951 for Sunset Boulevard (ironically Jose Ferrer won that year for Cyrano de Bergerac).

Having seen Stalag 17 multiple times, the most interesting element this time around was the group dynamics. Fueled by guilt over their comrades' deaths, the barracks residents need to uncover the informant. Therefore, they hone in on the person they don't like. There is no evidence against Sefton--other than he already barters with their German captors (which would be stupid for an informant). The barracks' leader doesn't even give Sefton an opportunity to defend himself in a mock trial. A sort of mob mentality takes over, with Sefton branded as guilty and duly punished. (For this reason, Sefton's very last interaction with his fellow soldiers, near the end of the film, doesn't ring true.)

Peter Grave as a prisoner.

Many members of the supporting cast went on to greater fame. Peter Graves worked steadily in film and television before becoming a star with Mission: Impossible and later Airplane! Harvey Lembeck played Phil Silvers' sidekick on the popular Phil Silvers Show (Sgt. Bilko) and later portrayed Eric Von Zipper in several Beach Party movies. Neville Brand played heavies in many films and TV shows before becoming a good guy in the TV series Laredo. And Stalag 17 playwright Donald Bevan gained additional fame as one of Sardi's in-house caricaturists for many years.

Finally, less we forget, the TV series Hogan's Heroes borrowed liberally from Stalag 17, although the tone was decidedly different. Indeed, Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski tried to sue the show's makers, but their lawsuit was unsuccessful.

Here's a scene from Stalag 17, courtesy of the Cafe's YouTube Channel:

The Wild Bunch - Looking Back on Peckinpah's Classic After 50 Years

William Holden in The Wild Bunch.

Fifty years ago, two of American cinema's most influential Westerns were released: the revisionist Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch. Neither film staved off the decline of the Western genre, but each impacted Hollywood in significant ways. The former may not have been the first "buddy picture," but the pairing of Paul Newman and Robert Redford revitalized those kinds of films. As for The Wild Bunch, while more violent and bloody films preceded it, they weren't mainstream movies with big stars and a major director. Many critics and filmgoers considered its violence shocking at the time.

Indeed, The Wild Bunch opens and closes with beautifully choreographed and edited scenes of carnage. It was enough, according to one Peckinpah biographer, for some audience members to walk out of the film when it was first released. However, sandwiched between those bloody scenes, Peckinpah presents a carefully-crafted tale of family loyalty and changing times.

Robert Ryan as Deke Thornton.

The Wild Bunch opens with Pike Bishop and his gang riding into a bustling town to rob a railroad office. Bishop (William Holden) has no idea that it's a trap set by a former pal, Deke Thornton, whose permanent release from a brutal prison hinges on his capture of Bishop. By the time, the outlaws realize it's a set-up, it's too late and their only option is to shoot their way out of town. The ensuing gunfight leaves the streets littered with dead bodies, including many innocent townspeople caught in the hail of bullets.

When Bishop regroups after a narrow escape from the town, his gang has been reduced to just five members. Moreover, their loot from the robbery turns out to be bags of worthless metal washers and Thornton is leading a gang of bounty hunters in pursuit. With few alternatives remaining, Bishop and his men journey to Mexico, where they make a deal with a ruthless revolutionary leader to steal guns and ammunition from a heavily-guarded train for $10,000. It's a decision that will ultimately result in the demise of the quintet.

Except for the bookend shoot-outs and a splendid train robbery scene in the middle, The Wild Bunch is a dialogue-driven film. Bishop repeatedly emphasizes the importance of family loyalty, for make no mistake that these outlaws are a family. They bicker, threaten each other, and talk of splitting up, but ultimately they abide by Bishop's code: "When you side with a man, you stick with him." It's enlightening when Bishop reveals to Dutch (Ernest Borgnine), his closest companion, that he feels responsible for Thornton's capture in the past. For his part, Thornton has nothing but respect for Bishop--although he's willing to capture or perhaps kill him to avoid returning to prison.

Pike's gang leaves a poor village that provided them with a moment of peace.

Set in 1913, The Wild Bunch also explores one of Sam Peckinpah's favorite themes: the end of the Wild West. Bishop and his gang marvel when they see an automobile and talk about machines that can fly in the air. The days of horse-riding outlaws are coming to an end and Bishop knows it: "We got to start thinking beyond our guns. Those days are closing fast." It's a theme that Peckinpah visited earlier in his elegant classic Ride the High Country (1962) and would return to again in The Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970).

Peckinpah wanted Lee Marvin to play Pike, but Marvin instead chose Paint Your Wagon (1969), which offered a hefty payday. That was fortunate for The Wild Bunch, for William Holden gives one of his finest performances as the weary, gritty Pike. According to most accounts, the star and the director clashed often on the set, arguing about issues such as whether Holden should wear a fake mustache (he initially refused, but finally agreed...and it's hard to imagine his character without it).

Ernest Borgnine as Dutch.

The supporting cast is exceptional, especially Borgnine, Robert Ryan as Thornton, and an unrecognizable Edmond O'Brien in his last great role as an old-timer who is fiercely loyal to Pike. The camaraderie between Holden and Borgnine seems so genuine that the two were paired again in the 1972 Western The Revengers (which is strictly a standard oater).

Sadly, the graphic violence in The Wild Bunch doesn't seem as horrifying as it once did. Slow-motion shots of bullets entering into bodies and blood spurting everywhere have become too commonplace on the silver screen. However, it is still jarring to see children participate in the violence, whether they're playfully reenacting the opening gunfight or actually picking up guns and shooting people in the climax. One has to wonder what will become of these desensitized youngsters as they grow into adults.

The Wild Bunch makes their final walk.

While The Wild Bunch may be Sam Peckinpah's most famous film, it's not his best (that would be The Ballad of Cable Hogue). But fifty years later, one can appreciate The Wild Bunch as a landmark motion picture that showcases its director's visual flair and love of the Western genre. It also contains one of the most iconic images of 1960s cinema:  the shot where Thornton's men are seemingly suspended in air for a split-second when Pike blows up both ends of a bridge. It's a brilliant metaphor for the end of the Old West, which is literally slipping away from men like Thornton and Pike. It's also a reminder that--when he wanted to be--Sam Peckinpah could be a truly great director.

The bridge collapses out from under Thornton's men.

This post is part of the Classic Movie Blog Association's (CMBA) Anniversary Blogathon. Click here to check out all the other great entries as the CMBA celebrates its tenth anniversary.

The Bridge on the the River Kwai Comes to Blu-ray

It’s not often that a jaunty military tune is whistled loudly by British prisoners of war on their way to their new camp in the jungles, which were the killing fields of the war in the Pacific. The Bridge on the River Kwai, however, essentially launched a military barroom ditty to new heights of popularity, whistled and hummed by children and adults around the world: Colonel Bogie’s March. The unlikely entrance of these potential Japanese slave laborers is an amazing introduction to a film that’s not really about bridge building. Oh yes, the bridge gets built and destroyed, but the clash of wills between different ideologies and the very complex nature of the characters themselves is at the core of this stunning Academy award-winning film.

The legendary producer Sam Spiegel was determined to film this story since he first read about it in a French newspaper review of the novel by Pierre Boulle.  He read it like an Evelyn Wood graduate and immediately bought the rights to the film from the author and the publisher. Over the next three years, in order to achieve perfection of detail and authenticity of locale and  events, Spiegel traveled the world looking for locations, finding the right actors, writers, director, cinematographer and the vast company of craftsmen who were essential to the look and feel of the film. 

By 1956, director David Lean had helmed several of the better British movies of the late 1940s, including Brief Encounter, Oliver Twist, and Great Expectations.  He had guided Katharine Hepburn, for her role in Summertime, filmed on location in Venice, in 1955.  Sam Spiegel was about to give him the job that would make him a world-famous and even more respected filmmaker.

To adapt Boulle’s book, Spiegel chose Michael Wilson and Carl Foreman; unfortunately, both had been hounded by the House Un-American Activities Committee in its witch hunt for Communists in Hollywood.  At its initial release, the writing credits were attributed to Pierre Boulle. Eventually, Wilson and Foreman were reinstated in the opening credits as the actual writers. 

The lead roles in the film were a British Colonel, a British commando, and an American who had escaped from the prisoner of war camp. Spiegel had no problems signing on Jack Hawkins and William Holden, but Alec Guinness was adamant about not wishing to appear in the film.  Spiegel made one last attempt to convince Guinness and invited him out to dinner, and by dessert Guinness was on board.  To round out the major casting, he chose Japanese silent film star Sessue Hayakawa for the pivotal role of the camp commandant given the task of getting the bridge completed. 

Hating the British, Hayakawa's Colonel Saito relishes the idea of breaking their spirit and humiliating their officers by requiring them to construct the bridge. Initially, Guinness's Colonel Nicholson refuses to cooperate and is punished severely. He changes course, though, with the horrible irony of the story being that he finds salvation for his troop’s morale by building a bridge that will last "600 years."  Nicholson doesn’t know that a group of commandos is on their way to destroy the bridge to cripple the Japanese supply line from Singapore to India.  A war film by genre, The Bridge on the River Kwai offers the audience more than it expects, a thought-provoking examination of bravery and heroism and the lessons to be learned.  

Columbia pictures is to be congratulated for putting this film in the collector’s edition which includes the original DVD and an new amazing Blu-ray disc. The DVD set is in the shape of a book, which contains the old DVD at the beginning and the Blu-ray at the end.  In between, there are photographs of posters, reproduced actual lobby cards, an excerpt from the original so

uvenir book in 1957, candid and publicity photographs from the set and very brief mini-profiles of the actors and director.  The older disc has interesting extras, including a short film on the making of the movie with comments from some of the associates who worked with David Lean.  There is also a chronological depiction of the actual building of the bridge; a student film about the real bridge narrated by William Holden, and comments by filmmaker John Milius.

This review was written by Cafe film critic Sazball.
Columbia Classics provided a review copy of this DVD to the Classic Film & TV Cafe.