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| Vincente Minelli tries to hide Lee J. Cobb and Glenn Ford dancing in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse |
Vincente Minelli's The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, from 1962, never approaches being a good or satisfying film, but its bursts of inspiration make for a spirited viewing. Fatal to the film is the miscasting of Glenn Ford as an Argentine playboy, Julio. Rudolph Valentino was a far better pick for the Latin lover in 1921. Ford is too old for the role. Minelli wanted Alain Delon. Perhaps the producers wanted the feel of Ford's gigolo from Gilda, but those days were long gone. He never seems continental, lithe or debonair. Ford was best suited to roles that tweaked his Anglo wholesomeness: The Big Heat, 3:10 to Yuma, Cowboy, and Minelli's The Courtship of Eddie's Father.
This film opens with a splashy Argentine party with mucho drinking and dancing. Lee J. Cobb plays a Group Theater patriarch with mustard and relish, holding together the film's first act. Minelli uses watermelons, parrots and whatever is at hand to disguise Cobb and Ford's deficiencies as dancers. Minelli's choreographic touch sometimes detract from the drama. A sequence picturing Nazi's rounding up Resistance members in the Left Bank resembles an outtake from The Bandwagon, but such touches distract us from a host of idiocies. Charles Boyer plays Glenn Ford's Dad! Lee J. Cobb was younger than Charles Boyer, but plays his Dad! Yvette Mimieux plays a character named Chi-Chi! Minelli distracts from the hooey with an astonishing array of ladies' hats, shiny uniforms and to die for décor. The mind reels, but the eye is bemused by the glitter and shine. Unlike Two Weeks in Another Town, this film feels impersonal, but Minelli was too talented a window dresser to not make artfully composed films.
Cobb's patriarch is killed off at the end of the first act. After prophesying the forthcoming conflict (World War 2 not 1 as in the original) before the most portentous and pretentious fireplace in cinematic history, Cobb finds out one of his grandchildren is a Nazi. He reacts by slapping said Nazi, storming out through the French doors, getting struck by lightning, or something, and then croaking. The movie tends to sag a bit afterwards. Ford's romantic interest is Ingrid Thulin and their chemistry is zilch. Thulin looks great in smashing outfits, but, since her vocals were dubbed by Angela Lansbury, it is hard to tell about her performance in its disembodied state. Often the best parts of this movie are wordless: a lovers' idyll along the Seine, crowds bitterly watching the Germans march down the Champs-Elysees, the titular figures riding in the sky.
The second half of the film finds Julio joining the Resistance. This version's Julio has morphed into a Bogart-like reformed heel. Paul Henreid is even around to play a cuckold again. Julio must pose as a feckless playboy, like the Scarlet Pimpernel. Needless to say, this ranges far from the original novel where Julio dies in the trenches, part of a wasted generation. The intrigue here is feeble even if it is handsomely mounted. Minelli, or somebody at MGM, tries to jazz things up by superimposing images of carnage and those darn horseman over a swank Nazi banquet while Andre Previn's score blares away. Eventually, Charles Boyer has to declaim, "You tortured my Chi-Chi!"
The original novel, the best selling book in the US in 1919, reflects the wave of pacifistic humanism of the immediate post World War 1 era; like Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front. This version stresses the engagement of the hero in fighting evil. The problems of two people don't amount to a hill of beans here and Julio must die a martyr's death. Most viewers will be too benumbed to care. The Four Horseman has a piecemeal feel to it. Previn's score was a last minute substitute for one by Alex North. Most of the dialogue is looped or dubbed and the film never has a rhythm of its own. Yet, Minelli and his collaborators have given us an object to regard if not contemplate. This film was the final feature for George Dolenz, who is quite good as a Nazi general.
This film opens with a splashy Argentine party with mucho drinking and dancing. Lee J. Cobb plays a Group Theater patriarch with mustard and relish, holding together the film's first act. Minelli uses watermelons, parrots and whatever is at hand to disguise Cobb and Ford's deficiencies as dancers. Minelli's choreographic touch sometimes detract from the drama. A sequence picturing Nazi's rounding up Resistance members in the Left Bank resembles an outtake from The Bandwagon, but such touches distract us from a host of idiocies. Charles Boyer plays Glenn Ford's Dad! Lee J. Cobb was younger than Charles Boyer, but plays his Dad! Yvette Mimieux plays a character named Chi-Chi! Minelli distracts from the hooey with an astonishing array of ladies' hats, shiny uniforms and to die for décor. The mind reels, but the eye is bemused by the glitter and shine. Unlike Two Weeks in Another Town, this film feels impersonal, but Minelli was too talented a window dresser to not make artfully composed films.
Cobb's patriarch is killed off at the end of the first act. After prophesying the forthcoming conflict (World War 2 not 1 as in the original) before the most portentous and pretentious fireplace in cinematic history, Cobb finds out one of his grandchildren is a Nazi. He reacts by slapping said Nazi, storming out through the French doors, getting struck by lightning, or something, and then croaking. The movie tends to sag a bit afterwards. Ford's romantic interest is Ingrid Thulin and their chemistry is zilch. Thulin looks great in smashing outfits, but, since her vocals were dubbed by Angela Lansbury, it is hard to tell about her performance in its disembodied state. Often the best parts of this movie are wordless: a lovers' idyll along the Seine, crowds bitterly watching the Germans march down the Champs-Elysees, the titular figures riding in the sky.
The original novel, the best selling book in the US in 1919, reflects the wave of pacifistic humanism of the immediate post World War 1 era; like Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front. This version stresses the engagement of the hero in fighting evil. The problems of two people don't amount to a hill of beans here and Julio must die a martyr's death. Most viewers will be too benumbed to care. The Four Horseman has a piecemeal feel to it. Previn's score was a last minute substitute for one by Alex North. Most of the dialogue is looped or dubbed and the film never has a rhythm of its own. Yet, Minelli and his collaborators have given us an object to regard if not contemplate. This film was the final feature for George Dolenz, who is quite good as a Nazi general.
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| What a playboy of the Pampas is supposed to look like. |
