THE TAMARIND SEED: Blu-ray (ITC Pictures, 1974) Scorpion Releasing
Omar Sharif and
Julie Andrews costar as lovers in peril in Blake Edward’s The Tamarind Seed
(1974) – a stylish, though occasionally sluggish-moving romance epic that, only
in its final act give rise to the notion we might also have been watching a
political thriller for the last two hours. The complications in this Cold War
espionage game of cat…and well, ‘cat’ derives some pleasure from the
utterly sublime John Barry score – rhapsodically plush – and Freddie Young’s unreservedly
idealistic camera work. But otherwise, the machinations in Evelyn Anthony’s
1971 novel have been distilled by Edward’s screenplay into a party for two,
balancing the political harangue in this ‘East beds West’ two-party system, to inveigle
and test the fidelity of just one man and one woman during their
passionate rendezvous in the tropics. The Tamarind Seed is a glossy, yet
guileless entertainment – Edwards, spending the bulk of the middle act of his ‘love
story’ with Sharif’s devilishly playful Soviet military attaché, Feodor Sverdlov rather
blatantly espousing, then transposing the Marxist doctrine onto the shattered
romantic innocence of his paramour, and, offering the otherwise socially
forthright and intelligent, Judith Farrow (Andrews) every possibility to be wary
of his motives. “Let me teach you the first lesson about these little games,”
Feodor explains in Sharif’s unobtrusive – never to be believed as ‘Russian’
– sex appeal, “You must try to tell the truth as long as possible. That way,
when times change and you have to lie, there is a great chance that you will be
believed.” And while Feodor firmly believes in the Soviet doctrine, certain
it will be accepted as the ‘great’ political movement of the 20th
century, he harbors relative disdain for the conspicuous nature of its spy
games that cannot allow the hard party line to make even this exception for two
people in love.
The Tamarind
Seed derives its title from an ancient local history Farrow unearths at a
museum while on holiday in Barbados after a rather lurid liaison with married Group
Capt. Richard Patterson (David Baron). It seems Patterson caught Farrow on the
rebound immediately following the horrendous auto wreck that claimed her
husband’s life. At the museum, Farrow discovers a rare ‘bean’ preserved in a glass
case. The legend, so it goes, is that a plantation slave, having been
wrongfully accused of an affair with the lady of the house, hanged from a tree
until death, yet still professing his innocence. The tree, apparently agreed,
and forever thereafter bore its seeds in the shape of the deceased’s face in profile.
Beyond lending the movie its title, none of this fantasy is particularly
pertinent to the Cold War machinations that bookend our story, and, from this
moment forward, steadily begin to manipulate the ‘affair’ between Farrow and Feodor
with predictably perverse and nihilistic plans to unravel and destroy the
couple’s happiness. It makes for a ‘good yarn’ - but that is all. Blake Edwards’
counterbalance in The Tamarind Seed to the congenial, if largely
platonic (Farrow does not bed or even kiss Feodor until well into the last act),
relationship between these two uniquely clear-eyed people in love is the
morally corrupt debits and credits of international espionage. Edwards’ modus
operandi for making the picture is its ‘nobody wins’ message, to strike
a purposeful chord that, in the final moments, is exonerated by toggling back a
few steps, the lovers reunited on neutral Canadian soil, though only after each
is suspected – at least by the audience – of having paid a dreadful toll for
their pleasure-seeker’s whimsy.
It’s no secret
that Andrews’ marriage to Edwards in 1969 (just two years after divorcing first
hubby, Tony Walton) proved, at least in hindsight, a lucrative ‘career’ move
after the decline and demise of the Hollywood musical in the late 1960’s –
though this, I sincerely suspect, was hardly Ms. Andrews’ motive for their union.
But in hindsight, she did provide Edwards with the perfect muse in at least
four memorable big screen outings yet to follow: beginning with Darling Lili
(1971) and culminating with Victor Victoria (1982). The Tamarind Seed
ranks somewhere between these latter age achievements in terms of quality, refreshingly
void of the usual gushing romantic foolishness that, in less capable hands,
might have afflicted and minimized its potency on the screen. As the object of
affection in this picture, Andrews’ Farrow leans more heavily toward the chastity
of a Victorian-age heroine, unable to entertain even a goodnight kiss from her
suitor without first receiving a proper proposal of marriage. And this, after
the bloom has already been wiped clean by one loveless marriage and an affair
with a ruthless and married scamp. In point of fact, Sharif’s philosophizing
charmer is as married, though his wife remains conspicuously ‘back in the old
country’ and thus, out of view. From the tight-lipped drawing rooms and
swinging nightclubs of London to exotic and burgeoning natural splendors of Barbados,
to the chichi social cafes of Paris, and finally, rugged valleys nestled
between the Canadian Rockies, The Tamarind Seed evolves into a TripTik, inferring
all this couple needs to succeed against even the most perilous obstacles set
in their path – including a failed assassination – are passports and passion.
It perhaps, needs to be pointed out Evelyn Anthony’s novel was hardly above
such cliché-riddled and dewy-eyed indulgences; her heroine, reeling in
pearl-like and diamond-esque imagery about the moon and stars, breathing in the
swaying palms and singing crickets through her own rose-colored apparatus.
Yet, in his
transposition of Anthony’s word-smithing to celluloid, Edwards has given us a
rather awkward imbalance between reality in the movies - circa 1974, and, the decidedly
sentimentalized statutes of classical Hollywood story-telling he so
transparently prefers. So, The Tamarind Seed develops a rather queasy disconnect
between its truths in fiction, the darkness of its Cold War subplot never
settling in to become a genuine threat. So, the political machinations stirred
by British home office intelligence puppet master, Jack Loder (Anthony Quayle) and
General
Golitsyn (Oscar Homolka) his KGB counterpart become moot – both men, interested
in exploiting our couple’s burgeoning love affair, merely to prolong the game
and unearth an insidious mole working against them in their midst. After Farrow
and Feodor’s ‘cute meet’, Edwards keeps us guessing as per the latter’s motives
in orchestrating ‘the affair’ – again, very antiseptically laid out, with never
the hint of a seduction in play – much less the offer of sex on the table
(underneath it, or more conventionally speaking, in a comfortable bed). The
couple’s frankly political discussions are played out as montage in the stark
sunlit realities of daylight, separated by moonlit strolls along the beach where
Feodor attempts – mostly in vain – to chisel away at Farrow’s resistance to
love by chronically bringing up her failed romance with Patterson. Having proven
itself a disastrous commodity in the past, who needs love now?
The Tamarind
Seed opens with cryptic imagery of a car diving off a steep cliff and
exploding into a hellish fireball. We meet our fearless heroine, Judith Farrow,
stylishly attired and strolling along an absolutely ravishing stretch of beach
in Barbados at sunset. The sophisticated widow has just ended a disastrous
six-month affair Patterson, a married rogue, utterly void of scruples. So, how
could a woman as smart and sexy as Judith have been so easily duped? Better
question: has she learned her lesson? The answer would appear to be ‘no’ as
shortly thereafter Judith encounters the world-savvy traveler, Feodor Sverdlov.
He is fine-looking, intelligent and makes no apology - or even secret - for
being a Soviet attaché on holiday from his home base in Paris – a red flag (literally)
for Judith, who holds a key position with a high-ranking British official back
in London. So, did these two casually meet by accident? Or is Feodor trying to
recruit Farrow for his boss, Gen. Golitsyn? Stationed in Paris, jaded Brit Intel
officer, Jack Loder seems to think the worst. And he is probably right, having spent
a lifetime uncovering other people’s dirty laundry. At present, Loder realizes
his point man, George MacLeod (Bryan Marshall) is indulging in an affair with
Margaret (Sylvia
Syms), the wife of Home Secretary Fergus Stephenson (Daniel O'Herlihy). Fergus is hiding
two secrets: first, he is a closeted homosexual (well-known to his wife, who
gets her kicks elsewhere), and second, he is the mole Loder already suspects of
nervously working for the communists.
As Farrow suggests
to the new man in her life, “This whole thing has gotten out of proportion.”
And indeed, almost immediately upon her return to London, she is confronted by
Loder and MacLeod, ordered by the former to report all of her activities
involving Feodor. While Judith refuses to be candid with the particulars of her
private discussions, she faithfully promises to inform Loder, should Feodor attempt
to ‘recruit her’. Meanwhile, Feodor suggests to Gen. Golitsyn that his engagement
of Farrow in Barbados was the first deliberate step to turn her into a KGB
informer. But was this really his motive, or is Feodor playing both sides
against the middle? Farrow and Feodor are nothing if refreshingly honest with
one another about their objectives. He tells her about his conversation with
Golitsyn and she informs him of her meeting with Loder. So, are these lovers genuine
to each other or toying with the affections of each other’s wounded heart for ulterior
purposes? Again, Blake Edwards keeps the variables in play without disclosing
much of anything to the audience. Meanwhile, Fergus begins to grow antsy. Perhaps
his cover in on the verge of being blown. It would certainly appear so,
especially when Feodor daringly steals a few pages from the blue book in the
Soviet file room, revealing Fergus to be his government’s chief contact in
London. And Margaret, rather sloppily having leaked intel from her lover back
to her husband, who thereafter reveals as much to Loder, now finds Loder has
put the kibosh on her romantic dalliances, forcing George to sever all ties
with her. Poor Maggie – scared another one away!
Meanwhile, Gen.
Golitsyn, has deduced Feodor has no intention of ‘recruiting’ Farrow. He also
suspects Feodor is very near defecting to the West for his love of this good
woman. To this end, Golitsyn engages a hit squad to take Feodor out. Having
proven his fidelity to the West by offering Loder proof of Stephenson’s
espionage against the state, straight from the KGB’s files, Loder sends his men
to guard and protect Feodor while he and Farrow return to Barbados for a
holiday. Alas, the hit squad arrives by yacht and firebomb their bungalow with
napalm. The entire structure is engulfed in flames. On the beaches, Loder’s men
engage the Russians in a gun fight with multiple casualties incurred on both
sides. Farrow is miraculously pulled from the inferno, having sustained only mild
burns. But it appears Feodor was not as fortunate. A short while later, while
recuperating in hospital, a tear-stained Farrow hears the cover story planted
by Loder, suggesting Feodor Sverdlov died in the firebombing. But Farrow need
not have taken the news to heart. Loder arrives with the truth. Feodor was saved
and taken abroad to Canada where he is patiently awaiting Farrow to rejoin him.
In the movie’s penultimate scene, a car drives Farrow to a remote rural
location, somewhere in the Rockies where she is reunited with this man she
truly loves.
The Tamarind
Seed is a lushly photographed, though somewhat turgidly reduced tale of
espionage, the high-stakes political drama chronically delayed by Blake Edward’s
love affair with his wife, and his determination to refocus the story around
the character of Judith Farrow. So, the particulars of the novel’s cloak and
dagger get almost entirely submerged in the first and second acts in favor of the
nascent involvement between Farrow and Feodor. We get only thumbnails of Loder, and, even
more so, Golitsyn whose counterpoint status as two-sides of the same Janus-faced
coin in international espionage were detailed as more intricately involved key
players in the novel. The last act of The Tamarind Seed is where Edwards
brings it all together, and, in an unanticipated/uncomplicated, yet thoroughly
compelling way, as he realigns and advances the political hotbed of the Cold
War’s cruel and insidious intervention in these affairs of the heart. Julie
Andrews and Omar Sharif have good solid on-screen chemistry; engaging one
another – and the audience – on an intellectual plateau into which Edwards’
screenplay introduces not only the discrepancies but even more uncannily, the
parallels between Soviet and American political doctrines, perhaps even to
suggest, at their core, they are not as uniquely at odds with each other. In the
end, the picture remains unevenly focused, and that’s a shame, because there is
much here to admire.
The Tamarind
Seed arrives on Blu-ray in the U.S. via Scorpion media; a company I
thoroughly confess to knowing absolutely nothing about. But if this release is
any indication of their overall quality, then fans of this movie are in for a
sincerely treat because The Tamarind Seed looks positively exquisite in
1080p. This transfer has obviously been afforded some clean-up and restoration.
Colors are fully saturated and beautifully balanced with natural-appearing
flesh tones and some gorgeous reds – either blood, or slightly orange, lemon
yellows and vibrant greens, of which the exotic local takes full advantage.
Fine detail abounds and a light smattering of film grain, looking very indigenous
to its source, has been consistently rendered. There are no age-related
artifacts and/or digital anomalies. Wow! and thank you! The 2.0 DTS audio
thoroughly shows off John Barry’s plush score to its full advantage. Dialogue
and effects, while never straining, present themselves properly with excellent
tonality. Please note: U.K. label ‘Network’ released a competing ‘region B’
locked disc of The Tamarind Seed that features Barry’s score on an
isolated track in 5.1 stereo.
We lose this on
the Scorpion release; also, the film and soundtrack liner notes from Geoff
Leonard and Pete Walker. But we do retain the three ‘interviews’ from Brit-based
Russell Harty’s talk show, circa 1972-74; the first two, providing only
snippets of Omar Sharif, the last, Harty’s show in its entirety, only briefly
to dish the dirt with Blake Edwards, but whose primary guest is Peter Sellers.
We also get an original trailer. Harty, who died in 1985 at age 53 from hepatitis-B
is a rather obsequious interviewer, and, on occasion, not even well-informed
about his subject, asking Sharif if he is Egyptian even though Sharif has
already told him, he was born in Cairo only a few seconds earlier. These ‘interviews’
are a wonderful time capsule of sorts, but really do not enhance our overall
pleasure of the movie itself. Personally, I would have preferred an audio
commentary in their stead. Bottom line: The Tamarind Seed is proof
positive Blake Edwards could direct more than that interminable stream of Pink
Panther yarns that seemed to dominate the latter half of his output,
but quickly wore out their welcome in terms of quality, much to the detriment
of his own and star, Peter Seller’s movie careers. Solid stuff on tap here, if
not quite A-list. The Blu-ray is top-notch and comes very highly recommended.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
3
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