Comfort Movies: Prince Valiant

Comfort movies. I guess everyone has a different definition of what a comfort movie is. For me, a comfort movie is a very personal one, a movie you really enjoy and watch whenever it is on TV or you watch the DVD more than other movies in your collection.

That love may not be shared by others.

I'm not necessarily talking about favorite movies beloved by millions like CASABLANCA (1942) or SINGIN' IN THE RAIN (1952).

No, what I mean are those movies that you and you alone seem to adore. The kind where  you eagerly share with others, but when the movie is over an embarrassed silence engulfs the room.

“You actually like that?” is the unspoken implication.

Maybe comfort movie isn't the right term, but it will do for now. I know quite a few people who can quote  from the THE GODFATHER movies at the drop of a hat. Again, I'm not talking about universally beloved movies, but one's own very personal favorites.

I have friends who have their own comfort movies. One friend unreservedly loves MR. DESTINY (1990) with Jim Belushi, while another worships at the altar of MYSTERY, ALASKA (1999), the Russell Crowe hockey movie. I enjoyed both of them but not to the extent they do. But there is some intangible thing about those movies they respond to. I get that. I may not share it with those particular titles, but I totally understand where they are coming from.

There will be occasional looks at favorite comfort movies of mine. Movies that make me just as happy to think about as to watch, opinions not shared by many others, but that does not stop me from adoring each of these movies without reservation. (Note, these will not be critical evaluations). There may be some slight spoilers ahead.

Prince Valiant

One of 20th Century Fox's first Cinemascope adventure films, PRINCE VALIANT (1954) ranks among my all-time favorite swashbucklers. Not only is it one of the most enjoyable swashbucklers ever made, but I think it is one of the best comic strip/comic book adaptations ever. Some of the images and scenes were copied right from Hal Foster's celebrated comic strip chronicling the adventures of the young Viking prince, and they're a joy to behold. For me, its one of the few movies that captures the exuberance and excitement of the comics medium.

Some friends I've shown it to do not share my appreciation of the film, and found it pretty juvenile. For one, they could not get past star Robert Wagner's wig in the film. (Wagner agrees with them, calling it his Bette Davis look). But you can't do a Prince Valiant film without that famous Valiant hairstyle and trying to do so is like making a Superman movie without the iconic costume)

 

It doesn't bother me at all, and neither does Wagner's portrayal. The Valiant of the film is young, callow and very green. He's all exuberance, giving little thought to the consequences of his actions. Wagner does a great job of promoting Valiant's immaturity while still being very likable. That's harder than it sounds.

Sterling Hayden as Sir Gawain is also a tough swallow for many, but the big lug is very appealing. It may not be his best performance, but I'm hard pressed to think of one that is so likable. True, I guess a Knight of the Round Table should not be thought of as a lug, but that's how Hayden plays him.

 

Love interest is delivered by Janet Leigh and Debra Paget, two of the loveliest medieval princesses one could imagine. This is the movie that began my life-long infatuation with Debra Paget. (Shameless name dropping: Years ago I met Janet Leigh at a book signing years and told her how much I like this film. She said she read the Prince Valiant comic strip growing up, and was thrilled to be cast in the movie.)

James Mason is Sir Brack, a Knight of the Round Table who is also the Black Knight, a mysterious figure who allies with the pagan Vikings to overthrow King Arthur's Camelot. He's great as always, with his marvelously plummy voice contrasting nicely with Wagner's. I've always been intrigued by his  appearance here. He likely considered it slumming, as movies adapted from comic strips and comic books were mainly the purview of Saturday afternoon serials. Over the last several decades, it's become routine for celebrated actors like Gene Hackman and Anthony Hopkins to appear in comic book movies, but back then James Mason's appearance in one must have been an eyebrow raiser for many. I think he's great in it, a pure pleasure to watch. What a year he had in 1954, what with two of his most famous performances, in A STAR IS BORN and 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA.

Director Henry Hathaway, who has provided me with lots of red-blooded thrills over the years, gives us one of the best castle sieges in history, with Christian Vikings attacking the pagan Vikings in an orgy of screaming men, flashing swords, battering rams, fire, boiling oil and crumbling walls.

But the real star of the movie may be composer Franz Waxman, who delivered one of the most gloriously exuberant scores in motion picture history. Why it isn't more celebrated I'll never know, because it's pure joy from beginning to end. There's a short sequence where Valiant is escaping from a seaside prison by undoing the bars on a window. Using a rope made from a mattress spring he uses it to scale the walls and escape. Waxman gives us a stunning piece of music during the 120-second or so sequence which delivers more orchestral color, drama and suspense than anything I've heard at the movies over the last 10 years.

The final broadsword duel between Valiant and Sir Brack is one of the best in moviedom, with the broadswords making enormous clanging sounds as each tries to outfight the other. Waxman leaves the sequence unscored save towards the end, when Valiant begins getting the better of his nemesis. Waxman introduces a very ethereal, high pitched, slow treatment of his main Prince Valiant theme, played on, of all things, an electric violin, subliminally implying that now is the moment when Prince Valiant has ceased to be a boy and has become a man. It's a beautifully scored scene, working on both a dramatic and musical level. 

The final scene sees Prince Valiant knighted Sir Valiant for his service to King Arthur. It's a great pity there was never a sequel called SIR VALIANT. But what we have here is one of the most wonderfully entertaining swashbucklers of all time.

One of the best studies of the swashbuckling genre is the book “Swordsmen of the Screen: From Douglas Fairbanks to Michael York” by Jeffrey Richards (Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd, 1977). Richards shares my enthusiasm for the film and provides some very interesting production background:

“The rights to the strip were purchased by MGM who for two years tried and failed to get it into script form. Eventually they sold the rights to 20th Century Fox and producer Robert Jacks, enthusiastic about the project, decided to go directly to the strip for inspiration. 23,980 drawings were made available to screenwriter Dudley Nichols and from them he fashioned a dramatic and exciting script. Fox then assigned a budget of 3 million dollars and assembled a talented team of artists to bring the script to life: cinematographer Lucien Ballard, composer Franz Waxman and ace action director Henry Hathaway. Nine weeks of location shooting in Britain produced some superb footage of Caernarvon, Warwick, Braemar and Eilean Donan castles, with Ainwick standing in as Camelot and the Scottish village of Dornie transformed into a Viking settlement. Back in Hollywood, Sligon's castle was constructed at the Fox studios and for several days a Viking fleet was to be seen sailing off the Pacific coast, so that exteriors for the film could be completed.

 “The resulting film has all the innocence, vigour and mythic quality of Foster's elegantly drawn strip. Action, dialogue and settings are appropriately stylized, creating a totally believable fantasy chivalric world, perfectly laid out picture-book gardens, majestic castles superbly photogenic, coolly inviting woodlands, rolling downs grazed by peaceful sheep, a deep-blue sea edged with creamy breakers....

“Tableau-style ceremonial, hieratic groupings and deliberately posed medium and long-shot dialogue scenes are the entirely appropriate hallmarks of Henry Hathaway's direction, conveying without effort the ritual and mythic elements of the story. But the film is punctuated by all-stops-out, no-holds-barred action sequences, handled by veteran stunt director Richard Talmadge, with a full complement of Hollywood stuntmen, half of whom were injured in one way or another during the course of the picture. (Fencing Instructor) Jean Heremans coached Robert Wagner in sword-fighting and helped stage the fencing sequences. Henry Hathaway paid tribute to his expertise when he described the character of Valiant as a “combination of D'Artagnan, Doug Fairbanks Sr., Tarzan, Robin Hood, Jim Bowie, William Tell and Jean Heremans.'”

You can have your dopey Dark Knight movies or the beyond wretched MAN OF STEEL (2013). For me PRINCE VALIANT ranks among the best comic strip movies ever. It's a fun, exhilarating movie that doesn't have a dull moment and is chock full of speed, romance and action. I don't care if others don't respond to it. PRINCE VALIANT is one movie I never get tired watching.

Off the top of my head, I can think of other comfort movies I can write about, such as John Wayne in BIG JAKE (1971), Charles Bronson and Jill Ireland in BREAKHEART PASS (1976), WWII all-star musicals THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS (1943) and (despite an aversion to Betty Hutton) STAR SPANGLED RHYTHM (1942), Jon Hall and Maria Montez in ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES (1944). So many wonderful movies....even if I sometimes feel I'm the only one who thinks so.

What are some of  your favorite comfort movies?

The Last Hunt

“The Last Hunt” (1956) is a superior western and contains what is probably Robert Taylor’s finest performance.

With that statement, it’s possible I’ve already lost some readers, as Robert Taylor seems to be among the most lambasted figures from Hollywood’s Golden Age. Many think he is as dull as dishwater and is among the most wooden, one-note and transparent performers from that period. (I suspect his biggest critics are Barbara Stanwyck fans, and those who can’t forgive him for being a friendly witness to the House Un-American Activities Committee).

Some people may really think Taylor was a terrible actor, and they are entitled to their opinion. But the hatred for him seems way out of proportion. Dan Callahan, in his recent book on Barbara Stanwyck, is particularly harsh on Taylor.

But the Movie Corner has always been, and always will be, an avid Robert Taylor supporter, though I think his post-war career was far more interesting and varied than his pre-war work. There were some good assignments at the first half of his career at M-G-M, but there was also far too much fluff in movies like “Personal Property” (1937), “Remember?” (1939) and “Lady in the Tropics” (1939).

(I think Vivien Leigh exhibits more chemistry with Taylor in “Waterloo Bridge” (1940) than she does with Clark Gable in “Gone with the Wind” (1939), but don’t tell anyone I said that).

In many of these M-G-M assignments he was asked to stand around and look uncommonly handsome. But watch him in tougher roles from the same time frame, like the boxer in “The Crowd Roars” (1938) and the western “Stand Up and Fight” (1939). There’s a little more fire there, more enthusiasm, as if he wants to break out of the pretty boy formula roles forced on him by Louis B. Mayer. (Taylor was among the most loyal employees M-G-M ever had, never turning down or questioning a role. He was also the longest-tenured contract player in the history of M-G-M.)

Like his compatriots Tyrone Power, Clark Gable and James Stewart, Taylor served his country during World War II and came back a more mature and guarded figure. The looks and bearing had coarsened, and despite the best efforts of Hollywood’s make-up wizards, they couldn’t hide what these men had experienced during the war. It’s as if they aged a decade in two years.

Taylor’s post-war career gave him a strong number of really good films,  but he was never better than in “The Last Hunt”, where Taylor plays what is probably his most out-and-out villainous role – a mean, sadistic and racist buffalo hunter who takes immense pride in slaughtering buffalo He’s genuinely great in it, and he certainly should have been remembered at Oscar time.

 

I’m thinking that when “The Last Hunt” opened in 1956, it was pretty startling to audiences used to more traditional westerns. Written and directed by the underrated Richard Brooks (from a novel by Milton Lott) “The Last Hunt” is an adult western in the best sense, with a cast of distinct characters each bringing different dimensions to the table. Because they’re by themselves during hunting season, there’s plenty of opportunities for the contrasts to come to the forefront.

Robert Taylor is Charlie, who starts off mean and only gets meaner as the movie goes on. He partners with the easy-going Sandy McKenzie (Stewart Granger), who grew up among the Indians and respects their traditions. He hunts for the money the buffalo hides will bring him, but takes no pleasure in the slaughter, unlike Charlie.

The always-great Lloyd Nolan plays Wonderfoot, a peglegged skinner who is the best in the territory. He’s realistic about life and harbors no grudges against anything. Russ Tamblyn is Jimmy O’Brien, a half-breed who questions his identity and place in the world, and is an easy target for the Indian-hating Charlie.

“The Last Hunt” was filmed on location in the scenic grandeur of the Black Hills and the Badlands, and while the vistas are magnificent, what plays against it is anything but.

 

 Almost unbearable to watch today are the scenes of the buffalo hunting. According to a disclaimer at the beginning, the scenes of the buffalo being killed are real, and were committed by actual sharpsmen hired by the government for the annual thinning of the herd. It’s hard to watch, especially in one scene, played in relative close up, where a white buffalo (sacred to the Indians) is killed by Charlie. It looks painfully real.

What else riveted audiences to their 1956 seats? There’s also a scene where Charlie utters, twice, the phrase “I’ll be damned.” Hardly eyebrow-raising now, but it must have startled audiences at the time.

There’s also a scene where Sandy rubs manure over an Indian brave’s wounds to help cauterize them. The towns in the movie also don’t resemble sterilized western towns from other films of the era, but look like the dirty, dingy places they really were, with small, ramshackle buildings separated by muddy streets. The saloon girls don’t look anything like Ann Sheridan in “Dodge City” (1939), but tired, worn out and defeated by life.

But it’s the dynamics on display here that are the most interesting. Taylor’s character despises Indians, and when an Indian girl (Debra Paget) becomes part of their camp, accompanied by a young child, when a brave she is traveling with is killed by Charlie, his hatred only intensifies.

Paget’s character is never given a name, which seems pretty demeaning, but I think Brooks is saying something more. To many in the west at the time, Indians weren’t people at all, and not worthy of a name. (I don’t know if the character has a name in the novel. I started to read it, but couldn’t get through it. There’s only so many pages describing buffalo skinning one can read).  

 

 

Charlie’s feelings about Indians intensify when he’s around the Indian girl. It’s also obvious he’s sexually attracted to her even as he hurls insults about her people. There’s a scene where they’re laying next to each other on the ground, and he’s this close to having his way with her, and I’m still not sure how that got past the censors at the time.

 

Paget’s casting in the role would criticized today, but it was a smart move by M-G-M. Paget had played an Indian maiden in one of the biggest western hits of the entire decade in “Broken Arrow” (1950), and later again in “White Feather” (1955). She’s very good in the role, but as my readers know some of my likes by now, in my mind Debra Paget can do no wrong, and she can be cast in any role at all. Heck, they could have cast her as Father Flanagan, and it wouldn’t faze me at all.

All the actors are fine, but it’s really Taylor who shines. His contempt for humanity is evident in every scene, and when he does soften a bit towards the end, it’s too late. His comeuppance is one of the most unusual I’ve ever seen, and it has stuck with me through the years from the first time I saw it.

 

 

Even when he isn’t playing as morally complex a character as Charlie Gilson, there’s just something I’ve always liked about Robert Taylor. True, he may not be the versatile actor out there, but I just enjoy watching him. A sturdy, agreeable presence, if he was rarely great, he was never bad, and was often good. I would rather watch a Robert Taylor movie over some of his more celebrated colleagues, and I was surprised to see how many of his movies I have in my DVD collection. Let the cynics complain, and make fun of his real name (Spangler Arlington Brugh), but I will always beat the Robert Taylor drum, proudly and loudly.

Stars and Stripes Forever

After watching a spectacular fireworks display at the local park, and still experiencing a patriotic high, it seemed appropriate to pull out my VHS copy of “Stars and Stripes Forever” (1952), Twentieth Century Fox’s Technicolor tribute to march composer John Philip Sousa. There’s only the modicum of a plot, but the performances are so likeable and the music is so great, that I forgave the lack of story and dramatic incident.

Admittedly, I don’t know too much about the real life of Sousa, but if there’s no real drama regarding his life, then I’m fine with not making up conflict and letting us instead enjoy the music and period trappings.

Clifton Webb stars as John Philip Sousa and he’s great as always. I can watch him in anything. We usually think of Webb as the caustic, snobbish type, but he can also be remarkably subtle and moving.

A few weeks ago I watched, and thoroughly enjoyed, “Titanic” (1953) where he and Barbara Stanwyck most believably play a long-time married couple watching their marriage unraveling and his betrayal that their son is not Webb’s. The scenes with Webb and son on the sinking deck (hardly giving anything away here, folks) are very moving. Webb accomplishes so much with so little.

In “Stars and Stripes Forever” Webb enjoys wedded bliss with his wife (Ruth Hussey) and three children. Perhaps there’s not enough Sousa and too much footage given over to a romance between sousaphone inventor Willie Little (Robert Wagner) and dancer Lilly Becker (Debra Paget), but they are both so beguiling and charming in this that I didn’t care. In fact, it may be the most likable performance from Wagner I’ve ever seen. He’s almost like a stalker in his attempts to play under Sousa, but he’s so upfront about it and so eager to be in the presence of the great man that I rooted for him the entire time.

(I do know enough about Sousa’s life that he himself invented the sousaphone and not some guy named Willie Little. But then how else is Willie going to ingratiate himself with Sousa than by telling him about his invention of the sousaphone? It’s a great scene and Webb’s befuddlement is a joy to behold.)

There’s also a very amusing scene where Sousa is leading the United States Marine Band at a White House function hosted by the 23rd president, Benjamin Harrison.

The receiving line is taking too long and a presidential aide asks Sousa to play something livelier to move the line along. Sousa plays his famous march “Semper Fidelis” and President Harrison is pleased that the music’s quick tempo makes those in the receiving line move much faster. (They should play that march at the receiving lines at some wedding receptions I’ve been to.)

I’ve always had an interest in U.S. presidents and can’t recall another film where Harrison was portrayed. If anyone knows of any other films featuring Benjamin Harrison, I’d love to hear about it.

Arguably the best studio orchestra in the 1950s was the Twentieth Century Fox one and with Music Director Alfred Newman leading the orchestra you know that the famous Sousa marches are going to be given a first-rate treatment. Many of Sousa’s most famous marches are performed and they can get the blood flowing in a corpse.

For the Olympics buffs out there, the film’s orchestrations are provided by Leo Arnaud, whose own Olympic fanfare is as well-known as any Sousa march.

The Sousa band not only played his marches, but other compositions as well. We get robust performances of “Turkey in the Straw”, the “Light Cavalry Overture”, “Dixie” and a stupendous choral performance of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Fox choral director Ken Darby is responsible for the latter, and when Newman and Darby teamed up you knew one’s ears would be burning with pleasure for the length of the movie.

There’s a lot of musical talent here and if one of the film music labels ever released the tracks it would make a wonderful album of American music.

Speaking of musical talent, Debra Paget as showgirl Lily Becker has a terrific number called “When It’s Springtime in New York” and also dances to Sousa’s “Washington Post” march. She’s a wonderful dancer and it’s too bad she didn’t have the opportunity to do more musicals. I always wondered about that.

Fox was known for their musicals starring blondes like Alice Faye, Betty Grable, June Haver and Marilyn Monroe. Did Zanuck not want to top line a brunette in one of the studio’s musicals? I know musicals were slowly easing their way out in popularity in the 1950s, but I still would have loved to have seen Debra Paget in more musicals.

In addition to the music, the film benefits from the glorious Technicolor that Fox lavished on their musicals. Even in my slightly faded VHS copy of the film, the colors burst through.

Director of “Stars and Stripes Forever” is Henry Koster, a great favorite of mine. He directed many a movie I’m very fond and many of them are what some people might pejoratively call “nice movies.”

Not from me, though. There’s a lot of heart and humanity in Koster’s films but with the treacle held back. I think he’s incredibly underrated and anyone who schedules a Henry Koster Film Festival would earn the happy gratitude of the attending audience.

I wrote about Koster before in my look at “The Robe” (1953) – I know, shoot me, but I love it. One can’t go wrong with any of these titles: two Deanna Durbin films “First Love” (1939) and “Spring Parade” (1940); “The Bishop’s Wife” (1947); “Come to the Stable” (1949); “Harvey” (1950); and “A Man Called Peter” (1955). There’s many others in his neglected filmography.

If memory serves, “Stars and Stripes Forever” was due to be released on DVD about five years ago, but it never happened. Since “The Egyptian” (1954) was announced for release at about the same time, and it’s finally coming out this month on DVD on the specialty Twilight Time label, I’m hoping that we will soon see “Stars and Stripes Forever” on DVD. It’s a movie to be enjoyed over and over again, not just on the Fourth of July, but all year long.

Demetrius and the Gladiators

This year’s Easter viewing was “Demetrius and the Gladiators” (1954), a more than respectable sequel to “The Robe”, which had come out the year before.

It’s one of the better sequels, in fact, and offers more action and visual splendor than “The Robe.” Now, I’m a big fan of “The Robe”, but I won’t deny that’s it an exceedingly talky film, odd for a film that introduced the splendor of Cinemascope to audiences. As if to make up for the static quality of “The Robe,” the sequel is loaded with action.

“Demetrius and the Gladiators” opens with a recap of the last scene of “The Robe”, where Richard Burton and Jean Simmons are ordered to their deaths by Roman Emperor Caligula. Jean Simmons gives The Robe (the cloth Jesus was wearing when he was crucified) to an onlooker, saying, “For the Big Fisherman.”

Big Fisherman is Peter (Michael Rennie), who returns in this movie. So does Demetrius (Victor Mature), the freed Greek slave who witnessed the crucifixion and is one of Christianity’s first converts, and Caligula (Jay Robinson, even nuttier than in the first film).

Caligula thinks The Robe has magic powers, and has sent spies to look for it and bring it to him. He also becomes convinced he’s a god.

New characters include Caligula’s uncle Claudius (a non-stuttering Barry Jones), Claudius’ wife, the scheming temptress Messalina (Susan Hayward), and Lucia (Debra Paget), a young Christian woman who is in love with Demetrius.

All I can say is if more Christians looked like Debra Paget, the religion would have spread a lot faster than it did. (That will likely add some time in Purgatory for me, but I couldn’t help think it while watching the movie. But then I’ve always had a thing for Debra Paget.)

Demetrius undergoes a crisis of faith when he mistakenly believes Lucia is killed by mauling gladiator Richard Egan. Demetrius becomes not only a champion gladiator, killing his foes left and right in the arena, but the latest lover of Messalina, all before Peter again brings him back to the fold to spread the word of Christianity throughout the Roman Empire.

The production is handsome to look at and there’s all sorts of familiar faces on hand to keep us entertained. One year before winning a Best Actor Oscar for “Marty”, Ernest Borgnine wields the whip as Strabo, the head of the gladiator school. Fox contract players Richard Egan and Anne Bancroft are on hand for a couple of scenes. Future Catwoman Julie Newmar is easily identifiable as a dancer.

A pre-“Blacula” William Marshall is very impressive as Glycon, a king in his own country who is forced into the gladiator ring. Marshall had one of the greatest speaking voices ever and it’s just a pleasure to listen to him.

Censorship requirements of the time meant the fight scenes in the arena weren’t particularly bloody, but I would imagine audiences were still pretty impressed, and considered these scenes something of a novelty. We know them now thanks to “Spartacus” (1960), “Gladiator” (2000) and countless Italian-made spectacles of the 1960s.

But up to then, I don’t think audiences saw a lot of gladiator action. “Quo Vadis” (1951) had arena scenes, but they were mainly limited to Christians being fed to the lions. DeMille’s “The Sign of the Cross” (1932) boasts some of the most salacious and violent arena scenes ever filmed, but when the film was re-issued in the 1940s it was minus many of those scenes.

RKO’s “The Last Days of Pompeii” (1935) had Preston Foster as blacksmith turned gladiator in several exciting scenes, and because the film was constantly re-issued, usually on a double bill with “King Kong” (1933) or “She” (1935), its likely audiences got their gladiator thrills from it.

But “Demetrius and the Gladiators” gave audiences gladiator thrills in color and wide screen. Still, I couldn’t help but notice how small-scaled the arena was. It doesn’t look that big, and its audience seems to be Roman senators, Caligula’s court and members of the Praetorian Guard. I wonder if it was more of a personal arena for the Roman court, rather than one for the populace. Still, the combat sequences are very well done, and by golly, there’s real tigers taunting Demetrius in the arena, unlike those in “Gladiator” where they are obviously CGI.

(Aside: I think “Gladiator” is the worst Best Picture Oscar winners ever. “Cimarron” (1931) or “The Greatest Show on Earth” (1952) usually get the nod, but I’ll take either of those any day over Ridley Scott’s snooze fest, not only dramatically inert, but ugly and cheap looking to boot. End of aside).

The cast is all fine. Susan Hayward looks like she’s having a ball as Messalina, twisting the men in her life around her little finger, scheming and (unknowingly) letting them do all the dirty work for her. She’s a pleasure to watch.

I like Victor Mature as Demetrius, though I think he’s better in “The Robe.” I think he gives the best performance in “The Robe”, even better than Jean Simmons and Best Actor nominee Richard Burton. He’s very sincere in that role and brings a working man’s honesty to the film that helps ground it.

He’s not so subtle in the sequel, but he gives it his all and he’s always fun to watch. He never took himself seriously, but he should have, as he never gave a bad performance, and was, from what I’ve read about him, a pretty good guy off camera.

In the 1950s, my mom worked for a man who served on a submarine with Mature during World War II. He said Mature had no airs or pretensions about him. He thought Mature was one of the greatest guys he ever knew.

We have a family friend who is a huge movie buff and has been collecting autographs for decades. He would obtain the star’s address and send him or her a photo with a stamped, self-addressed envelope, so all the person would have to do is read the letter, sign the picture and return it in the envelope at no expense.

Occasionally, he would not get a response but usually the picture would be returned signed, sometimes with a nice note. He did this with Victor Mature and waited and waited but never got a response.

About a year later an envelope arrived in the mail. Inside was an autographed picture with this inscription: “Dick, Sorry about the delay. Had a fire. Best wishes, Vic Mature.”

Now THAT’s an autograph.

Director of Demetrius was Delmer Daves, who is a great favorite of mine, and who rarely made a film I didn’t like. Even when some are clunkers, like “Parrish” (1961) or “Youngblood Hawk” (1964) they are always watchable.

In “Demetrius and the Gladiators” he and screen writer Philip Dunne nicely balance all of the films themes and situations: violence and piety, court intrigue and torrid romance scenes.

No mention of the film can’t be made without mentioning Franz Waxman’s majestic score. He incorporated themes from Alfred Newman’s score for “The Robe” because he thought so highly of it. Waxman actually resigned from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences when the Music Branch neglected to honor Newman’s score for “The Robe” with a Best Score nomination. (If he thought the Academy was tin-eared then, what would he make of today’s scoring nominees? He would probably flee the country.)

One last thing, and I don’t think I’m giving anything away here with the ending. The Christians have been promised protection by new emperor Claudius as long as they don’t ferment any discord. The film concludes with Peter, Demetrius and new convert Glycon walking through the Roman palace, backed by Waxman’s truly gorgeous choral finale. But Glycon is holding The Robe, and I’ve always thought it interesting that the black character holds The Robe, rather than Peter or Demetrius. A pretty bold statement in that pre-Civil Rights era.