Lust for Life

Kirk Douglas should have won Best Oscar in 1956 for his portrayal as Vincent van Gogh in “Lust for Life.” It’s a stunning performance, and arguably his best.

Looking at his competition, I’m sure Douglas thought he would win. James Dean and Rock Hudson would likely split the vote for “Giant”, and two actors reprising their stage triumphs, Laurence Olivier for “Richard III” and Yul Brynner for “The King and I”, were the remaining contenders.

According to Kirk Douglas’ wonderful biography “The Ragman’s Son” (Simon & Schuster, 1988), everyone told him he was a shoo-in and the third time would be the charm, after losing Best Actor Oscar bids for “Champion” (1949) and “The Bad and the Beautiful” (1952).

But Douglas was in Germany shooting “Paths of Glory” (1957) when he learned that he lost to Yul Brynner. Sure, Brynner is great fun to watch, and it’s probably the ultimate Yul Brynner performance, but I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that it didn’t hurt that he starred in the biggest hit of the year, “The Ten Commandments.”

Always one of the most physical of actors, Douglas brings his trademark intensity to the role while still expressing van Gogh’s inner pain. His body appears to shrink before our eyes as he faces one crushing disappointment after another, and his encroaching mental illness becomes too much for him to bear.

Some accuse Douglas of overacting in this film, but I don’t think so. Van Gogh was hardly the shrinking violet type. Just look at his paintings and see how alive and vibrant they are. Whether he was a preacher valiantly struggling to bring the Word of God to a poverty-stricken coal mining village, or falling in love with his first cousin Kay, and later a prostitute, van Gogh did nothing in half measures.

An intense, brilliant and haunting soul, van Gogh felt his emotions much deeper than anyone around him. Douglas is splendid in showing the inner torment and expressing the joy of creation, but not sugarcoating the character. Like many artists, van Gogh seemed to operate on a different plane.

In his autobiography, Douglas writes, “Playing Vincent van Gogh shook up my theory about what acting is all about. To me, acting is all about creating an illusion, showing tremendous discipline, not losing yourself in the character that you’re portraying…but I was close to getting lost in the character of van Gogh… I fled myself going over the line, into the skin of van Gogh. It was a frightening experience. The memory makes me wince. I could never play that part again. For a long time after I finished the movie, I didn’t see the picture.”

Douglas did some of his best work under the direction of Vincente Minnelli and “Lust for Life” and “The Bad and the Beautiful” are two of the best films in the actor’s (and director’s) careers.

In a recent post on “Brigadoon” (1954), I wrote of Minnelli’s initial disappointment at not being able to shoot on location in Scotland, instead re-creating the Scottish village on the M-G-M soundstages.

No disappointments on “Lust for Life”, as Minnelli and Company were able to film not only in Europe, but in the actual locations where van Gogh lived and painted.

Of course with Minnelli directing, I don’t have to mention how gorgeous the film looks. I especially liked watching the re-creations of country life and still portraits, with van Gogh in the foreground recreating them on canvas. This is followed by a slow fade until we see the final product, backed by the dramatic music of Miklos Rozsa.

“Lust for Life” was nominated in the Color Art Direction category but lost to “The King and I.” No doubt, Oscar voters thought Minnelli just used the locations that were already there.

An Adapted Screenplay nomination was awarded to Norman Corwin for his adaptation of Irving Stone’s best-selling (and immensely readable) 1934 novel. Corwin lost to the screenwriting team, which included S.J. Perelman, who adapted Jules Verne’s “Around the World in 80 Days.”

“Lust for Life” wasn’t left totally bereft at that year’s Oscar ceremony. Anthony Quinn won his second Best Supporting Actor Oscar as van Gogh’s friend Paul Gauguin. He’s not in the film that much, but when he’s there he’s brilliant. Quinn was also a magnificent physical actor and uses his body well.

For example, there’s a scene Quinn plays with no dialogue, when Gauguin is looking at van Gogh’s paintings and we see across his face equal parts admiration, envy and awe at what he’s seeing. It’s a marvelous scene and beautifully played by Quinn.

Quinn’s competition that year was Mickey Rooney in “The Bold and the Brave”, Don Murray in “Bus Stop”, Anthony Perkins in “Friendly Persuasion” and Robert Stack in “Written on the Wind.”

I think the Academy made the right choice. Quinn may not be on-screen as much as the other nominees, but he makes every scene count when he is there. The final argument scene between Gauguin and van Gogh is unbearably painful to watch. Douglas is equally magnificent in these scenes as he sees his friendship with Gauguin dissipate due to his own fierce stubbornness and encroaching mental illness.

I remember reading an interview with Robert Stack years later and he was still bemoaning losing to Anthony Quinn. No doubt rubbing salt in his wound was that his “Written on the Wind” co-star, Dorothy Malone, took the Best Supporting Actress Oscar that year for her work in that film.

Helping the movie immeasurably is the beautiful score by Miklos Rozsa. Rozsa has great fondness for the movie and writes in his autobiography “A Double Life” (Hippocrene Books, 1982) about the immense pleasure he had in writing the score.

Arguably the most cultured of the Golden Age composers, Rozsa describes how impressed he was with the film, the first cut of which was three hours. M-G-M knew they couldn’t sell a three hour film about a suicidal painter and cut it down to a more manageable two hours. Rozsa said that three hour cut was a thing of beauty and he responded with one of his best scores. He took special care with this assignment.

Rozsa writes about his approach to musically illustrating van Gogh’s life: “He was a post-impressionist, but post-impressionism in music comes much later than van Gogh’s death at the end of the nineteenth century: pictoral trends are always between 25 and 40 years ahead. The music he himself knew would have been that of the 1880s – Wagner, Liszt, Cesar Franck – but I felt that mid-19^th century romanticism has little in common with his work. Somehow I had to evolve a suitable style in terms of my own music. It had to be somewhat impressionistic, somewhat pointillistic, somewhat post-romantic and brightly, even startlingly colorful, much like the tenor of his paintings.”

We see many of van Gogh’s paintings throughout the movie but in the final scene the camera pulls back and we see a wall filled with those magnificent van Gogh canvases. Art museums and private collectors from around the world, including Edward G. Robinson and director Charles Vidor, donated their paintings to use in the film, and that final scene with all those paintings on display is literally breathtaking.

Kirk Douglas is this month’s Star of the Month on TCM. They will be airing “Lust for Life” on Tuesday, September 20 at 8:00 EST.

Ivanhoe (1952)

When adapting Sir Walter Scott’s famous novel, “Ivanhoe” (1952), what did M-G-M do first, consult the novel or “The Adventures of Robin Hood” (1938) starring Errol Flynn? Likely both, though I think there’s little doubt the strong influence the Flynn film has on “Ivanhoe.”

Not only had Robin Hood been a huge audience favorite since its release in 1938, but it was a perennial favorite as a re-issue. Warner Brothers were surprised at the high grosses a double feature of Robin Hood and Flynn’s other great swashbuckler, “The Sea Hawk” (1940) earned in a 1948 re-issue. Robin Hood was sent forth to theaters once again in the early 1950s before being sold to television. So the success of Flynn’s Robin Hood was no doubt in the minds of the “Ivanhoe” creators.

In an odd coincidence, both movies earned Best Picture nominations, an honor rarely afforded to traditional swashbucklers.

And “Ivanhoe” should be justly regarded as one of the screen’s great swashbucklers, even if it doesn’t reach the heights of the Flynn film. True, it doesn’t have the high spirits and zest of the 1938 film, and “Ivanhoe” journeyman director Richard Thorpe doesn’t have the visual flair of Michael Curtiz.

But there is much to enjoy, thanks to a literate script, a grand Miklos Rozsa score, terrific swordplay, beautiful vistas of the English countryside and arguably the best castle siege ever put on film.

It’s no secret that “Robin Hood” screenwriters Norman Reilly Raine and Seton I. Miller used the novel “Ivanhoe” as a basis for their script. If memory serves, Norman and Saxon rivalry during the reign of Richard the Lionheart was mainly an invention of Scott, and later added to existing Robin Hood legends. In fact Robin Hood and his Merry Men have fairly substantial supporting roles in “Ivanhoe.”

Both movies deal with brave Saxon oppressors against Norman injustice during the time King Richard the Lionheart is away at the Crusades. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor) tries to raise a ransom for Richard after the king is taken hostage by Leopold of Austria on his way home from the Crusades. While trying to save Richard, Ivanhoe upsets the plans of Richard’s brother Prince John and company, who have been ruling in Richard’s place.

Prince John (a magnificently sneering Guy Rolfe) and his Norman allies are in no hurry to have Richard home as they are plucking the kingdom dry left and right. Guy Rolfe is one of my favorite character actors, and he’s especially good here. His Prince John carries an expression throughout of a man who just stepped in something unpleasant.

Besides the main plot, what other Robin Hood influences are there? Well, the Saxon Princess Rowena is played by Joan Fontaine, Olivia deHavilland’s sister. She is certainly lovely in the part, but Fontaine was not under contract to M-G-M at the time. Why her? Was she chosen for the DeHavilland connection, and hence a subconscious Robin Hood link, or because of her availability?

Like the Flynn film, “Ivanhoe” is ideally cast with a roster of superb character actors, including George Sanders, Robert Douglas, Felix Aylmer, Finlay Currie, Guy Rolfe, Francis De Wolff. And what voices! I wish we had actors today with such distinctive voices. One just closes the eyes and revels in their dictation.

Low brow comedy relief is provided by the squire Wamba (Emlyn Williams), whose appearance, haircut and manner bring one to mind of Much the Miller (Herbert Mundin) in the Flynn film. Wamba’s puppy dog loyalty to Ivanhoe is very similar to the role Much had for Robin Hood.

Robin Hood (Harold Warrender) and his Merry Men (one of whom is Sebastian Cabot) join with Ivanhoe to keep England safe until Richard returns, and that includes taking part in the film’s action highlight, the storming of Torquilstone Castle. For almost 15 minutes of furious action we get thousands of arrows shooting through the air, wooden ladders flung against castle walls, sword fighting through fire- and smoke-filled corridors and one particularly amazing stunt where we see, from overhead, a stuntman fall from the castle’s ramparts and into the moat below.

Warrender was an unfamiliar face and name to me, so I looked him up on IMDB. I was saddened to see he died just the following year at age 50. I wonder what happened to him?

A radiant Elizabeth Taylor is on hand as Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York (Felix Aylmer), a Jew whose role as treasurer of his tribe is key to raising Richard’s ransom.

Ivanhoe is lucky to have the attentions of such fetching beauties as Rebecca and Rowena, but Rebecca’s beauty has caught the eye of Ivanhoe’s main foe, the Norman knight de Boise Guilbert (George Sanders). This is the weakest part of the film.

As much as I love watching (and listening) to George Sanders, his lovesick knight here is not well written. There’s very little interaction between de Boise Guilbert and Rebecca, so we’re somewhat surprised when towards the end he says he will sacrifice his title and lands if she will love him. Where scenes cut establishing their relationship? I wish there had been at least one good scene between Sanders and Taylor to set this up.

When we think of Sanders, we think of the superior, aloof, and yes, caddish zest he brought to his roles. Sanders is always great fun to watch. But here he tries for sensitive, but comes off dull, a sin in the Sanders canon.

Back to another Robin Hood connection. Rebecca is put on trial with witchcraft and stands in a shimmering white gown facing her accusers, very similar to the gown Maid Marian (Olivia deHavilland) wore in facing her tribunal in the Flynn film. It could be an obvious choice of the costume designers, dressing their heroine in pure white, symbolic of her standing against the corruption flooding the kingdom. The dresses aren’t identical, but they sure do look a lot alike.

Both films also end with Richard returning to England and promising to rule justly and to mend the Norman and Saxon rivalry.

It’s somewhat churlish to go all this way without mentioning Robert Taylor (no relation to Elizabeth). He’s fine in the role, and has the chivalrous (if humorless) behavior down pat, but he’s not the best fencer in the world. Some of his sword fighting scenes are clunky, and make one appreciate the seemingly effortless flair the likes of Flynn and Tyrone Power brought to their fight scenes. Taylor was still a big favorite with audiences, especially the ladies, and no doubt his name brought a lot of people into the theater.

Like Korngold’s score for “The Adventures of Robin Hood”, “Ivanhoe” boasts a majestic score, courtesy of Miklos Rozsa. Rozsa became something of a music historian when researching Roman music as a basis for his score for “Quo Vadis” (1951) and greatly enjoyed the process. He embarked on a similar role in preparing his “Ivanhoe” score, visiting museums in Europe to study 12th century music. I can do no better than to quote the great composer himself:

“I wanted again to create a score that would sound stylistically authentic. I found a somewhat similar situation in musical matters between twelfth century England and first century Rome. As Roman music was largely influenced by the Greeks, so came the Saxons under the influence of the Normans, who were much more cultured. The sources of Saxon music are extremely few, but there is a large amount of music of that century of the French troubadours, who brought their music with the invading Normans to England.”

Under the film’s opening narration Rozsa introduces a theme from a ballad actually written by Richard the Lionheart. The tender love theme for Ivanhoe and Rowena is adapted from an old popular song from the north of France. Rozsa said, “It’s a lovely melody, breathing the innocently amorous atmosphere of the Middle Ages, and I gave it modal harmonizations.”

While I rail about the running time of many movies, I wish “Ivanhoe” was fleshed out a little more. At 106 minutes “Ivanhoe” could have used some additional scenes, especially establishing more groundwork in the Rebecca and de Boise Guilbert storyline.

But “Ivanhoe” still stands as magnificent entertainment, one sure to please young and old alike. The DVD release is a splendid transfer, beautifully showcasing the Technicolor photography.

King of Kings (1961)

For the Easter weekend, I went over to a friend’s house and we watched “King of Kings” (1961). It’s a very impressive film, but an odd one too. While purporting to be the story of Jesus Christ, it sometimes seems like he’s a supporting character in his own story.

Much of “King of Kings” has as much to do with political turmoil going on than it does about Jesus. It’s a good 20 minutes before the Nativity scene occurs, but director Nicholas Ray does a good job of establishing the world in which Jesus is born into. It’s a land filled with warring tribes, divided loyalties, and the iron fist of Rome overseeing all.

Jesus is played by the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jeffrey Hunter, leading some wags to call the film “I Was a Teenage Jesus.” The charge doesn’t hold true. I think he’s fine in the role, though he does represent the Sunday School picture book of Jesus than what was likely the real thing.

Many incidents in His life are discussed but not shown. We see a miracle or two, but they are filmed in a very low-key style. The Roman centurion Lucius (Ron Randell) relates the story of the feeding of the multitudes and Jesus walking on water, but we are not shown these scenes.

Lucuis is an interesting character in the film. He is first seen questioning the order from Herod to kill all the first born sons in Bethlehem. Later taking the census he comes across the teenage Jesus and as a centurion he is in a position of power to be in attendance at all the meetings and discussions concerning Jesus. It’s as if he is our window to the proceedings.

There’s also extensive footage, including a couple of lavishly staged battle scenes, of the rebel leader Barabbas (Harry Guardino) and his cohort Judas (Rip Torn) inciting Jerusalem to rebel against Roman rule.

Meanwhile, John the Baptist (Robert Ryan) is baptizing the countryside, leading to rumors that he is the long-planned Messiah, which irritates the Roman leadership.

We also get many scenes of court intrigue, between Pontius Pilate (Hurd Hatfield), Herod Antipas (oily Frank Thring), the teenage vixen Salome (Brigid Bazlen) and the high priest Caiaphas (Guy Rolfe).

Horror film fans may enjoy these scenes. Hatfield starred in “The Picture of Dorian Gray” (1945) and he doesn’t seem to have aged a day since that film. Is that typecasting or what?

The same year kids were being dragged to see “King of Kings” by their parents, they no doubt took delight in recognizing Guy Rolfe from his most famous role, the wonderful horror thriller “Mr. Sardonicus.” (1961). Rolfe also played Prince John in “Ivanhoe” (1952), a magnificently sneering portrayal. Prince John, Caiaphas, and Mr. Sardonicus? Now that’s a career.

Brigid Bazlen is a hottie and you can see why Herod would bring in John’s head on a platter for her, but the less said about her rendition of Salome’s famous dance the better. It’s strictly amateur, and no seven veils are discarded, but she does run from pillar to post with wild abandon, I will say that for her.

The film’s best scene is the Sermon on the Mount. With thousands of extras in attendance, the scene stars with Jesus on top of the hill intoning the famous words of the Sermon. Halfway through He descends from the mountain and wanders through the crowd. In response to queries from the crowd, He answers their questions which make up the remainder of the Sermon It’s a beautifully staged scene and much more effective than Jesus just standing on top of a hill. Instead the scene becomes a conversation rather than a sermon. The scene ends when someone asks Him how to pray and He recites The Lord’s Prayer. Backed by Miklos Rozsa’s stirring music, it’s a moving and memorable moment.

Rozsa’s music is one of the true highlights of the film. Trendy types may scoff at the heavenly choir that accompanies certain scenes, but that’s their loss. The music is there not to tell us what to think, but to add an extra layer of emotion to the scene. The wealth of absolutely gorgeous melody on display here makes the film a feast for the ear as much as the eye. Even more impressive is that Rozsa had scored several identical scenes in “Ben-Hur” (1959), such as the nativity and crucifixition scenes, and was loath to repeat himself. The fact that he succeeded is testament to his genius.

The famous trial scene is also played off-screen. Barabbas is shown sitting in his cell when he is told that he has been freed. Pilate offered to free Jesus but the crowd chose Barabbas instead. Again, the film seems bent on showing us Jesus’ effect on other people rather than portraying famous events in His life.

Such an approach keeps us somewhat at arm’s length from the film. It’s a very impressive film on many levels, but the emphasis on other characters ultimately leaves us wanting.

Special honors, though, go to the DVD transfer. This is one of the most impressive DVD pressings I’ve ever seen. The colors practically jump off the screen and I’ve never seen blue skies rendered so, well, blue. Director Ray uses deep focus photography in key scenes, where characters in the foreground are shown in close-up while other characters or actions take place off to the side or in the background. It’s a very effective technique.

I’ve never seen the mini-series “Jesus of Nazareth” but for me the definitive version of Christ remains Cecil B. DeMille’s silent version “King of Kings” (1927). It’s one of the most visually impressive of the silent films, and beautifully acted by all, yet still retaining the DeMille over-the-top spectacle that make his films so compelling. Fans of “It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) may get a kick out of seeing H.B. Warner (Mr. Gower, the pharmacist) play Christ.

Rating for “King of Kings” (1961): Three stars.

El Cid

“El Cid” (1961), is one of the greatest spectacles ever made, a feast for the eyes and ears. It tells the tale of Spain’s greatest hero, a knight who lives by a code of honor that would bend most other men.

Though made in the early 1960s and dealing with a medieval hero, its story and message echo what is occurring in today’s world. Consider the following:

The film’s opening scene shows the fundamentalist Moslem chieftain Ben Yussuf (Herbert Lom) from Africa exhorting his followers to conquer Spain, the land across the waters, and from there the rest of Europe and eventually the entire world. Allah has willed it to him that the world be made a Moslem one. He is willing to spare no Christian man, woman or child from fulfilling his mission. Sound familiar?

Conquering eleventh century Spain could be easily accomplished, as it is a patchwork of feuding kingdoms, boasting petty rulers with even pettier heirs more concerned about their tiny fiefdoms than the enemy scourge that is gathering across the waters to sweep over Spain.

The knight Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar (Charlton Heston) is on his way to his wedding to his betrothed, the beautiful Chimene (Sophia Loren) when he engages the Moors (not the Moops) in a battle. He captures two Moorish prisoners and since he is their captor, their fate is in his hands. Rodrigo says Moslem and Christian have been killing each other for centuries and to what end? He secures a solemn vow from them that they will never raise a hand against his king, Ferdinand.

One of them, Moutamin (Douglas Wilmer, from “Jason and the Argonauts” (1963), by the way one of the greatest films ever made) tells him a man who shows great compassion towards his enemies is a worthy man and gives him the title “El Cid” which means “The Lord.” Rodrigo and Moutamin become great friends and allies.

Word gets back to Ferdinand’s court that he let Moorish prisoners go. Disapproval and censure is swift, and Rodrigo is dubbed a traitor. To avenge his honor, he engages in a duel with the king’s champion and kills him. The king’s champion is Chimene’s father, and the love story on display here becomes a truly memorable one. Their deep loves turns into a hateful marriage, but that hate melts away years later when she realizes what a man of deep honor her husband is.

Rodrigo redeems himself when he fights in a jousting contest and is awarded the city of Calahorra for his king. This is one of the cinema’s great action sequences. Filmed on the grounds of a real castle, hundreds of spectators stand among colorful pennants as the two champions engage in a grueling lance and swordfight. The sequence took five weeks to film and lasts almost ten minutes long.

Ferdinand dies and the kingdom falls into the hands of his bickering children Urraca (Genevieve Page), Alfonso (John Fraser) and Sancho (Gary Raymond, also from “Jason and the Argonauts”). Rodrigo tries to warn them of the growing threat overseas and brings his Moorish allies to court, saying they need to band together to fight Ben Yussuf. Appalled at the idea of having Moors in their Christian court, the Moorish assistance is rejected by the new rulers.

Rodrigo is exiled and the legend of El Cid begins. Still loyal to the kingdom that has forsaken him, he wins territories and battles for his king while unifying the Spanish kingdoms against Ben Yussuf.

That’s just the barebones of the movie, as it runs almost three hours long, but so well paced is the movie that the 184-minute running time just flies by.

Producer Samuel Bronston independently financed the movie and no expense was spared in recreating medieval Spain. Actual cathedrals and castles were used, and thousands of extras are on display to enact the spectacular battles. No CGI here, and the costumes, sets and props are exquisitely detailed and appointed. I don’t how historically accurate those sets and costumes are, but it sure is a beautiful film to look at.

Equally glorious is the score by master composer Miklos Rozsa. There are background scores and then there are musical scores and Rozsa’s “El Cid” is definitely one of the latter. It’s a stunning symphonic achievement, with the love theme being one of Rozsa’s most heart achingly beautiful.

Heston was born to play roles like this and Loren is exquisite as his wife, as their relationship becomes a roller coaster of emotions. Reportedly, Heston and Loren did not care for each other offscreen, but that doesn’t come through.

Heston is perfect playing the big emotions, but he always seems uncomfortable in his love scenes (in all his movies, not just “El Cid.”). I’ve always been struck by the parallels between “El Cid” and his performance in “The Ten Commandments” (1956). In both movies, they enjoy strong relationships with their wives, but in the second half when they become legendary figures, and the beards become longer, they become such grand figures, that you can’t picture Moses or El Cid sitting down with the wife for a relaxing dinner. They’re too busy changing history. Heston’s performance in these latter scenes in “El Cid” is so good you forgive the awkwardness of his earlier scenes with Loren.

Director Anthony Mann was a master of wide-screen composition and he uses it beautifully. Rodrigo’s and Chimene’s initial meeting from opposite sides of the room until they come together in the middle bathed in a golden light from a skylight above is a particular highlight.

There are a few other minor demerits. While the huge climatic battle scene at the end is an awesome spectacle, with the two armies charging towards each other on the beach, and Rozsa’s furious music propelling them forward, once the armies have clashed, I don’t feel the battle isn’t as exciting as it could be. A director like DeMille was great at capturing individual moments in his action scenes, but here the actual battle could use a little more oomph.

A risible moment is the song that comes up as the exit music, with words sung by a huge chorus set to Rozsa’s indelible love theme. The song is called “The Falcon and the Dove.” Ugh. Rozsa didn’t want a song at the end, but was overruled by producer Bronston, who hoped to have a hit record from it. When Rozsa re-recorded the score for the soundtrack album, he omitted the chorus and gave us his the exit music he wanted, a glorious full blown rendition of the love theme. I wish Rozsa had convinced Bronston to keep his original idea.

But all is forgiven when one thinks of the film’s final scenes, with El Cid riding into legend. I don’t want to spoil it for those that haven’t seen it, but that sunlight, Rozsa’s incredible organ music and that final image of El Cid riding along the shoreline is one of the greatest movie endings of all time.

And one of the film’s messages, that Christians and Moslems can learn much from each other but must join forces to defeat fundamentalist evil in their midst, is needed today more than ever before.

The two-disc DVD is a real treat. I had heard stories about the bad transfer, but it looks splendid to me, albeit a little brown in spots. Due to the film changing ownership hands over the years, much of the original master material is missing, so the film probably looks as good as it ever will. I wish the film’s intermission music, “The El Cid March” (a wonderfully stirring piece) had been placed at the beginning of the second disc instead of the end of the first, but that’s a minor quibble.

The extra features are particularly generous, with segments devoted to producer Bronston, director Mann, composer Rozsa, the making of the film and film preservation. The extra features alone run almost two hours!

Though it’s early in the year, the DVD release of “El Cid” looks hard to top as the DVD event of the year. Let’s hope that the next Bronston release, “The Fall of the Roman Empire” (1964), is equally impressive.

Rating for “El Cid”: Three and a half stars.

Eye of the Needle

“Eye of the Needle” (1981) is a crackerjack thriller starring Donald Sutherland as Henry Faber, aka The Needle, a top German spy during World War II who discovers the Allies’ D-Day invasion plans and attempts to transmit the information back to Berlin. On the run from the authorities, he attempts to cross the English Channel by boat during a storm. His boat is wrecked and he washes ashore the isolated Storm Island, where he is taken in by the lonely and vulnerable Lucy (Kate Nelligan), who lives on a sheep farm with her crippled, embittered, often drunk husband David (Christopher Cazenove) and their young son.

Lucy soon falls in love with Henry, but doesn’t know his real identity. The Needle and Lucy begin a love affair, before she realizes he is not who he appears to be and The Needle is willing to do anything, or kill anyone, to achieve his mission of letting his superiors know where and when D-Day will occur. “The war has come down to the two of us,” Faber tells her during the climax.

I remember how excited I was when “Eye of the Needle” came out. Like millions of others I had read, and enjoyed, the best selling novel by Ken Follett, one of those books that was impossible to put down. I’m a sucker for World War II movies, as well as thrillers set in isolated areas, where help cannot be reached by picking up the phone and calling the local police station down the street.

But most important, it boasted a new score by the great Miklos Rozsa, my favorite composer. I was giddy at the idea of hearing a new Rozsa score, as he was in the twilight of his career and new scores were few, though he had scored a triumphant trifecta in 1979 with scores to Billy Wilder’s “Fedora”, Jonathan Demme’s “The Last Embrace” and the time travel romance/thriller “Time After Time” which has one of the greatest end titles of all time. Hearing it makes you glad to be alive.

I remember seeing “Eye of the Needle” during a summer afternoon matinee at the River Oaks Theater in Calumet City. I was taking summer classes at the local community college and after morning classes would often throw my books in the trunk of my car and drive to the River Oaks to catch a flick.

I was not disappointed, as “Eye of the Needle” is a terrific thriller, with a fine sense of time and place. Wartime England is well portrayed as a land of rations, overcrowded trains and military personnel hurrying to and fro. Sutherland superbly portrays The Needle, a man with ice water in his veins who, with his stiletto, dispatches anyone who remotely suspects him of not being who he says he is. It’s a wonderful performance.

The Rozsa score does not disappoint, though it could have been better dubbed. Apparently, large chunks of it were thrown out in post-production, which is a shame because there are large portions of the film that go unscored and the film tends to drag a bit. The end credits, however, do allow Rozsa to develop his rapturous love theme to near operatic heights with a nifty little coda that never feels to bring a smile to my face. I remember a good number of the mostly elderly audience members staying in their seats to hear the music. It did my heart good, but such is the power of Rozsa.

That summer I also saw, at the same theater, “Dragonslayer” with its difficult but ultimately rewarding Alex North score. I remember thinking how fortunate I was to hear the latest works of two master composers. I may not have been able to hear them in their heyday, but considered myself very lucky to hear their later scores in the theaters. Unlike athletes past their prime, at the end of their film careers Rozsa and North were still at the top of their game.

That summer of 1981 was a remarkable one, one of the best I can remember, both for the movies and their scores. There was also Ray Harryhausen’s last film, the Greek mythology fantasy “Clash of the Titans”, a now forgotten film called “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, one of the best 007 movies ever “For Your Eyes Only”, one of the few John Carpenter films I like “Escape from New York”, and “Victory” the rousing World War II soccer movie with Michael Caine, Sylvester Stallone and Pele, with a gloriously loud Bill Conti score that more than lives up to the film’s title.

Would that we would have another summer like that one.

Rating for “Eye of the Needle”: Three stars