VICTORY: Blu-ray (Lorimar, 1981) Warner Archive

Rooted in truth, but otherwise nonsensically flawed, highly romanticized and indestructible idiotic to prove a fairly naïve point about war-time valor, director, John Huston’s Victory (1981) tries to mash together an international cast and one fanciful screenplay by Evan Jones and Yabo Yablonsky (based on a yarn by Yablonsky, Djordje Milićević and Jeff Maguire) into a hybrid of the sports/war movie. It is cinematic gumbo like this that makes me lose interest and faith in the picture-making biz. Bad movies have always been a part of the industry. Indeed, weighing the calculus of art vs. trash, there is far more of the latter than the former produced as fodder for the masses. And Victory, despite its inadequacies aplenty, is far from the garbage heap.  But it does tend to wear out its welcome in implausibility, long before the crowd assembled to witness its fancifully conceived football exhibition between Allied POW’s and a hand-picked elite from Nazi Germany, break down the barriers of the arena and charge the field, thereupon providing the victors with the perfect escape. From top to bottom and side to side, Victory is just one silly movie, and a tad disappointing, as Huston’s trajectory veers from the gritty realities of wartime incarceration – the picture opening with a ‘Great Escape’ styled break-out by a solo prisoner to end with his entanglement in the barbed wire perimeter and machine gun assassination by the camp’s trigger-happy guards, breaking with the Geneva Convention. From this rather ominous start, one might suspect what is to follow will be a harrowing race against time. Surprisingly, not – as soon as we are introduced to Sylvester Stallone’s Robert Hatch – a scrapper ‘type’ with a big mouth, not even the genial Max von Sydow, as Nazi officer, Major Karl von Steiner, would tolerate on his best day.

Also schlepping it for the Allies, Michael Caine as one for the Brits, Capt. John Colby. Von Steiner has long since admired Colby’s days as a professional rugby player, having partaken of the game himself in his youth, and, a devotee of men’s athletics in general. To this end, von Steiner proposes a ridiculous way to settle – if not, the war – then certainly, to satisfy his government’s propaganda machine as to which team is the best; the mixed breed, culled together by Colby from disparate unprofessionals, or von Steiner’s hand-picked master race, representing Germany’s finest. It’s a rigged game and one for which von Steiner is quite certain he cannot lose.  Ah, but the old Nazi has sincerely forgotten the essential quality that always makes the underdog a threat – heart, and guts, and the ambition, or so it seems, to pull off the impossible, just to prove that it can be done. The bulk of Victory is dedicated to this passionate pursuit of a rather preposterous aspiration, as Colby ventures forth to will his team from the rough elements at his disposal, losing sight of the fact that his main objective is to launch a daring ‘broad daylight’ escape by burrowing beneath the stadium inside a labyrinth of tunnels already procured for their benefit by members of the underground Free French resistance, thereupon utterly humiliating the Nazi High Command during this ‘live broadcast’ event with their very public vanishing act.  

I have always admired John Huston, director extraordinaire from Hollywood’s golden age, and, for whom destiny was writ large by his own ambitious hand. Let us set aside, for the moment, the sheer chutzpah of this renaissance man; also, the awe-inspiring girth of his cinematic output, of which The Maltese Falcon (1941), The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), The Asphalt Jungle (1950), The African Queen (1951), The Misfits (1961), The Man Who Would Be King (1975) and Prizzi's Honor (1985), among others, remain legendary contributions to the art of the motion picture. During his 46-year career, this 15-time Oscar-nominated titan (son of Walter, and whose daughter, Angelica has carried on the family tradition) was as noted for his screenplay authorship, his contributions as a fine art painter, and his caustic, razor-sharp wit, that could as easily ingratiate as alienate Huston from the money boys dangling the proverbial carrot before his nose. Not that Huston ever took such guff.  But, all that said, Victory is not Huston’s finest hour – not by a long shot. In fact, it is not even altogether successful as a fable, of which, I suspect is Huston’s primary aim, and, despite some wonderfully staged sequences, breathtakingly photographed by Gerry Fisher.

Victory is loosely based on Két félidő a pokolban (Two half-times in Hell), an all but forgotten Hungarian movie from 1962 that, in its time, won the critics' award at the 1962 Boston Cinema Festival. That movie was, in turn, inspired by the nominal ‘death match’ where FC Dynamo Kyiv defeated German soldiers while Ukraine was still occupied by German troops during World War II. As a result of their victory, the Ukrainians were rumored to have been spontaneously assassinated by the losing side. In reality, the Ukrainian team battled the Germans during a series of matches, emerging victorious in all of them. Their banishment to various prison camps thereafter by the Gestapo, resulted in the murder of four players, but long after these games had been played. Hence, none were actually killed as retribution for their skills on the playing field – a rather moot point. Victory makes no such inference the Nazis will ever seek revenge against the winning side. In fact, a note of pleasurable envy is distinctly detected as von Steiner observes the crowd overtake the bleachers and then the field to congratulate Colby and his team mates, in the process, smuggling them out of the stadium. Originally entitled, ‘Escape to Victory’ – Victory casts professional footballers, many from the Ipswich Town squad, one of the most successful teams in Europe. For authenticity, English World Cup-winning goalkeepers, Gordon Banks and Alan Thatcher were hired as consultants and trainers on the picture, the latter working closely with Stallone on his goalkeeping skills.

As Victory is set during the early German occupation of France, world-renown soccer player, Pelé's character, Corporal Luis Fernandez, is from Trinidad, not Brazil, as Brazil did not join the war against the Axis powers until 1943. Similarly, Argentinian superstar, Osvaldo Ardiles (as Carlos Rey) is afforded no nationality, as Argentina remained neutral for most of the war. Legendary film and television composer, Bill Conti scores Victory with a distinct homage – nee riff – on the first and last movements of Dmitri Shostakovich's Leningrad Symphony No. 7, generally associated with the Stalinist regime's overwhelming repression of freedom of expression. For the picture’s finale, Conti switches over to Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 5 – a masterwork, the Russian-born composer originally intended to imply forced rejoicing under authoritarian rule. Invariably, Conti also leans quite heavily on Elmer Bernstein’s iconic efforts for The Great Escape (1963). Alas, like much of the picture itself, Conti’s compositions herein just seem like a hand-me-down instead of standing on their own merits as a comprehensive film score. As a result, Victory inherits a mantel of quality from all like-minded war pictures gone before it, but fails to carry the banner as high or with distinction, other than as a pastiche to all that has gone before it.

Our story begins inside a German prisoner of war camp managed by Major von Steiner. The pre-title sequence might just as easily come from outtakes from The Great Escape as we witness an unnamed POW meet his terrible fate after having skillfully maneuvered through the base came at midnight, only to be caught in the barbed wire on the last length of his escape. Immediately following the main titles, we are introduced to a small contingent of the other inmates, including John Colby, Robert Hatch, Luis Fernandez and Carlos Rey. Life in this camp is presented as a bit too idyllic. Clean conditions and creature comforts abound. Indeed, portions of the camp suggest a ‘country club’ atmosphere, unaccustomed to overcrowding or, ostensibly, the risk of reprimand by their captors. Colby is singled out by von Steiner as a professional sports celebrity who once played magnificent ‘football’ for West Ham United. Von Steiner is so impressed, he immediately proposes a match against his German team. While von Steiner views this setup as German propaganda, Colby initially resists complying until his superior officers, Colonel Waldron (Daniel Massey) and Wing Commander Shurlock (Julian Curry) suggest it would present the newly-amalgamated team with an excellent opportunity for publicly embarrassing the Nazi high command. 

Hatch, arrogant and butch, though not much of a player, is decidedly not Colby’s first pick for the team.  Indeed, Colby has already negotiated the proper supplies, uniforms and better food rations for any man worthy of his game, who agrees to play on his team. He also has access to other camps to secure the best of the best for the match. But Hatch’s defiance, and indeed his tenacious persistence, eventually convinces Colby into letting him in as a trainer. Hatch needs to be with the team to facilitate his own unrelated flight from the camp. When Waldron learns of this, he endeavors to provide Hatch with the perfect opportunity to make it out and unite with members of the French Résistance, including Claude (Jean-François Stévenin) an expert tunneller, whose plan it is to dig an underground trench beneath Colombes Stadium’s change room, from which the Allied team can flee undetected to relative safety during the half time break.  In order to get this message back to the players, Hatch must first make his daring flight from the camp, gain access to the information in Paris, then allow himself to be caught and returned, relaying everything to Colby and his team mates. Alas, Victory’s middle act is woefully fuzzy on such details. Short shrift is given to Hatch’s escape, his passing interest in Renée (Carol Laure) a resistance fighter, and his recapture – briefly glimpsed in the back of a paddy wagon on route to the camp. Because von Steiner is determined to keep Hatch in ‘the cooler’ – solitary confinement – until after the game, Colby feigns his goalkeeper has broken his arm, necessitating he be replaced at the last minute with the only other man, sufficiently honed in his skill set to take over the position. This necessitates having to break the real goalkeeper’s arm, which Colby does in the nick of time. 

The ruse works. Hatch is freed to partake and the match begins to a packed audience in attendance. The penultimate exercise between Allied and German teams is magnificently staged for maximum nail-biting effect. But the first half goes very badly for Colby and his men, outclassed by the hand-picked Germans who pummel them and easily rack up four points in rapid succession. At half time, Colby and his beleaguered men are sequestered in their changing room to rest and recuperate. Claude, having tunneled beneath the stadium through Paris’ sewer system, breaks through the shallow floor of the men’s shower, draining the water and hurrying the team underground to a waiting group of resistance fighters who will escort them to safety at the river’s edge. Instead, one of the players, Doug Clure (Russell Osman) suffers an acute attack of valor, claiming he believes they can still win the game and thus prove to the world the German stronghold is not of superior stock, despite all their propaganda being promoted to the contrary to the outside world. While Hatch is vehemently opposed to sticking around – indeed, he just wants to be free – he is coaxed by Colby and the rest of his mates to return to the field, thereupon sacrificing the team’s only chance to flee undetected.

The Allied team returns to the playing field where, predictably, they begin to rack up the necessary points to at least tie the German team, much to von Steiner’s chagrin. The draw is achieved by Luis Fernandez, Carlos Rey and Terry Brady (Bobby Moore) with Hatch, previously debilitated in his goalkeeping prowess, suddenly renewed and performing many saves on the team’s behalf.  It all boils down to a penalty kick, in a rather cliché movie-land fashion, shot in slo-mo, with Hatch saving the goal and thus causing the Allied team to win 5 to 4. The crowd, previously disenchanted by their initial poor performance on the field, are now overcome with hysterical cheers, chanting ‘Victoire’. Unable to silence their praise, von Steiner and his contingent of officers retreats from their bleachers as all hell breaks loose. The crowd storm the field, breaking down barriers and rushing Colby and his mates. Shielding the players from discovery, by offering them their plain clothes to throw over their uniforms, the crowd, with the Allies in tow, charge the gate, easily overcoming the Nazi soldiers on the other side. As this stampeding throng pours into the streets, still wildly shouting, the screen suddenly fades to a pale blue. The echoes of their wild excitement dissipate; Huston, presenting us with his final cattle call for the cast through a series of title cards.

Victory is a tolerably senseless, if unimportant, fetching folktale. Waiving most of the privations of war and the fact that life in a POW camp is certainly no bowl of cherries, Huston is invested – nee besotted with this preposterous scenario; that the whole of wartime conflict can be settled on a soccer field. If only.  Sly Stallone is the movie’s weakest link.  His performance as Hatch is threadbare convincing at best, looking fairly unprepossessing in his soccer gear, and otherwise, emoting about as much brute tension as a wet stick of kindling. Let’s be honest. Stallone was never a great actor. However, afforded the right part to test more his brawn than his brain – especially after the steroids kicked in – he could hold his place card proudly as an ‘action star’ of significant merit. But in Victory, Stallone is expected to act for long stretches of time. Comparatively, in his scenes with Michael Caine, Stallone shows up as the novice/apprentice to a master craftsman. Given his star-ascending turn in Rocky (1976), Stallone is afforded almost as much screen time as Caine, but is incapable of commanding a quiet moment or scene on his own. This distinctly affects our appreciation for our invested suspension of disbelief in the movie as a whole. It also leaves the heavy lifting to Caine and co-star, Max von Sidow, who have no difficulty sustaining their loaded exchanges; ditto for Caine’s brief, but brilliant interactions with the sadly underrated, and under-utilized Daniel Massey. In the last analysis, Victory is earmarked for the undiscerning movie goer who merely desires a rousing popcorn muncher to fill his/her leisure in lieu of a really good story.

The Warner Archive (WAC) delivers the goods yet again on this vintage title. Victory looks very impressive on Blu-ray. This 1080p image is brightly colored, exceptionally nuanced and layered with oodles of fine detail that pops as it should. The blood-red swastikas that adore the arena, as well as the bright red sweaters of the Allied team, explode onto the screen with a lurid brilliance. Flesh tones can occasionally lean a bit to the ruddy orange, but otherwise, color fidelity is flawless and flattering. Contrast is spot on and film grain is presented with a genuine texture that feels indigenous to its source. The 5.1 DTS audio is a beautifully sustained rendering of the original Dolby Stereo mix. Apart from the climactic match, there are few opportunities for a real aggressive sound field. But the penultimate game, with its crowd sequences, and Bill Conti’s score are the real benefactors here. The only extra is a badly worn theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Victory is a disposable third-tier effort at best – and very disappointing, considering it was made by John Huston – an eminent filmmaker who still had several good years, and better movies ahead of him. This Blu-ray is flawless. But this isn’t a great sports movie, a good war movie, or even an admirable effort to combine these disparate genres into a nondescript mash-up. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

0