DEAD CALM (W.B. 1989) Warner Home Video

Based on Charles William's suspense-laden novel, director, Philip Noyce's Dead Calm (1989) is a mixed bag of melodrama, marginally capitalizing on the isolationism of the open sea for much of its taut thrills. Although it has its moments, the picture never quite comes off as a nail-biter, despite good performances from Nicole Kidman and Sam Neill. The greatest challenge to overcome is a rather turgid script by Terry Hayes, and, an utterly ineffectual turn from Billy Zane - cast as the sulking, but more skulking than sinister, villain. Interesting to reconsider this triumvirate of actors just beginning their American careers – especially Zane as the psychotic, Hughie Warriner – a career path to dog his professional aspirations thereafter; mostly cast as the sexy ‘heavy’ instead of being considered for leading man parts. Kidman, as the ingenue, Rae Ingram shows a decidedly lack of promise here. Of the three, Neill had the most acting experience – though, he too is not entirely afforded enough of an opportunity to distinguish himself.  For several decades, rumors abounded Orson Welles had filmed his own version of William’s novel under its original title - The Deep, costarring Jeanne Moreau, Laurence Harvey, Michael Bryant, Welles and his then-wife, Oja Kodar, the troubled shoot intermittently revived between 1967 and 1969. When Laurence Harvey died in 1973, Welles reportedly shelved all plans to reinvigorate the project with a new cast.

After his death, Welles’ widow, Paola Mori supposedly found enough footage in her late husband’s possession to cobble together a working print for distribution. To date, nothing has come of this. Fast track to 1989, and Dead Calm was having its own issues getting completed. The original ending showed Rae subduing Hughie with a spear gun, throwing his lifeless remains on an inflatable mattress, to be towed at a distance. Warner Bros. balked at this finale, suggesting it did not clarified Hughie was, in fact, dead, and therefore no further threat to either Rae or her husband, John (Neill). But the real problem with the picture remains its lack of ‘chemistry’ between any of these three principals leads. Indeed, we fear not for Rae as her virtue never appears to be in danger, since her willingness to comply with Hughie’s desires registers as marginally distasteful, to simply going through the mechanics of seduction at best. Worse, the supposed marital chemistry between Rae and John is just not there. Are they passionate lovers, or merely two discarded souls set adrift after an earlier tragedy has already struck? These stick figures with no soul are never sure of their feelings, leaving the rest of us with a decided lack of investment in what happens to them.

Our story opens with Capt. John Ingram returning home from a voyage with his crew. However, as their train pulls into the station, Ingram’s wife, Rae is nowhere to be found. As various anxious sweethearts collect their mates on the platform it becomes apparent to Ingram his wife has forgotten to meet him for his homecoming. Unhappy circumstance for the Captain, who quickly discovers Rae and their young son have been involved in a horrific car accident on route to the station. The boy has died after being jettisoned from the vehicle, while Rae is barely clinging to life at the county hospital. From here, Terry Haye's screenplay takes a quantum leap into the future; Rae, fully recovered but still waking up screaming from nightmares about the crash. Now, aboard her husband's plush yacht John comforts Rae with promises of many tomorrows yet to follow, and, all of them free from harm and fear - all evidence to the contrary as their yacht approaches the Orpheus, a black schooner listlessly bobbing in the open waters. Upon closer inspection, Ingram and Rae take notice of a solitary sailor mercilessly rowing for all its worth toward their vessel. The man, Hughie Warriner (Zane) tells of a harrowing escape after his ship's food supply became tainted with botulism. Five shipmates were not so lucky. Unconvinced by his story, John encourages Hughie to go below and rest, then tells Rae he intends to board the Orpheus to conduct his own inspection. What John discovers aboard are the gruesomely dismembered remains of four young women and another man. There can only be one conclusion; Hughie Warriner is a sadistic murderer.

Meanwhile, Hughie awakens below deck. Realizing what John must have discovered aboard the Orpheus, Hughie takes command of Ingram’s yacht, abandoning John to the black schooner and kidnapping Rae, setting sail for uncharted waters. What follows is supposed to be a heightened game of cat and mouse with John employing his vast maritime knowledge to resurrect the Orpheus from sinking so he can pursue Rae and Hughie. Instead, John discovers the black schooner is mortally wounded and destined to sink, leaving Rae as his only hope for survival. Here, however, the tale becomes quite convoluted and slightly ridiculous. For although Rae has a double barrel shotgun and harpoon at her disposal - and well as ample time to sneak either or both away from Hughie to use them in her own defense - she instead spends the first two thirds of the movie whimpering in corners, or indulging in half-hearted and badly bungled escapes, allowing Hughie many opportunities to ravage her sexually as each bides their time. At the last possible moment, Rae harpoons Hughie in the shoulder before tossing his unconscious body into an inflatable raft, then cutting him loose from the yacht. As the Orpheus sinks further into the sea, John learns from the ship's video log Hughie was a mate hired to take photographer, Russell Bellows (Rod Mullinar) and four aspiring female models for a cruise to shoot some nude photographs.

Meanwhile, as night falls, John douses the Orpheus in petrol, setting it afire as a beacon for Rae to find. She does, and John is rescued. The next afternoon, Rae and John come across the inflatable raft. But there are no signs of Hughie, except two bloody palm prints imprinted against their yacht that neither Rae or John see. John goes below deck to prepare breakfast for his wife, leaving Hughie to make his last-ditch effort at strangling Rae with her own towel. Mercifully, John returns, catching Hughie in the act of murder and fires a solitary flair into Hughie's head, thereby effectively killing him. Thus ends, Dead Calm on a rather blissfully dark note - without pomp or much of a resolution for that matter. The greatest folly here remains the badly knotted together plot with too many loopholes to make any of it plausible. Are we to believe Hughie murdered Bellows and his beauties after being ruthlessly badgered by Bellows and made fun of by the models - hardly a decisive or plausible reason for all of the carnage? And if Hughie is, in fact, the sort to manically fly off the handle at a moment’s provocation, why does he wait so long to make his moves of Rae and John, instead of storming their yacht and instantly dispatching with them to make his escape. Presumably, Hughie has some notions about self-preservation. I mean, he does want to see land again, does he not?

The scenario behind Hughie’s madness would make sense if he exhibited more psychotic episodes after being left to his own devices with Rae. However, upon ditching John in the middle of nowhere, Hughie makes every attempt to be a rather amiable ‘replacement’ for Rae. No threats, or even menacing to rape her. Only after Rae plays along with his romantic advances does Hughie decide to engage in intercourse with her. Hence, when Rae finally decides to try and poison and harpoon Hughie a queer sort of empathy brews for Hughie instead of Rae. She has misled him and he becomes as a confused and wounded animal – misunderstood and begging for love, who is instead unceremoniously put to death. The other tragedy from which Dead Calm never recovers is Billy Zane's abysmally dull central performance. Zane is much more the fop than the romantic interest and ever so much more the lover than the fighter, leaving the audience to speculate just how it is he was able to murder the Orpheus' entire crew single-handed when he cannot even manage one half-terrorized woman. In the final analysis, Dead Calm has its moments. But there is far too much 'calm' between them to make any impact one way or the other.

Warner Home Video's Blu-Ray is good enough reason to rejoice. Dead Calm was one of the studio’s earliest DVD releases back in the day, and was, an abysmal failure in terms of image quality then. For nearly a decade thereafter, no viable home video master existed. But then, came the Blu-ray. Here, the image throughout is bright, sumptuous and beautifully contrasted with a quantum leap forward in fine detail. Flesh tones looks gorgeous. The subtleties in Dean Semler’s cinematography, particularly within the low-lit interiors of the Orpheus, exhibit exceptional contrast, and exquisite amounts of fine detail. Age-related artifacts are nonexistent for a smooth and satisfying visual presentation. Only occasionally does film grain tend to veer ever-so-slightly towards a look of digitized grit. The audio is 5.1 Dolby Digital and adequately reproduced herein. Save a cropped theatrical trailer, there are no extras. Bottom line: Dead Calm is a snore. However, for those who remember the movie fondly, the Blu-ray is an excellent way to experience it again.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

0