THE ROAD TO HONG KONG: Blu-ray (United Artists, 1962) Olive Media

 A finale of sorts to all those glorious ‘road’ pictures made at the height of the studio system, director, Norman Panama’s The Road to Hong Kong (1962) is more than a bit of an anomaly; shot in Britain – not for Paramount, the home of all the other Bing Crosby/Bob Hope ‘road’ pics, widescreen – if in B&W – and, relegating one-time fellow co-star, Dorothy Lamour to a second-class cameo in favor of a new co-star, Joan Collins, as Diane. The Road to Hong Kong has always been misrepresented as a terrible clunker, divorced from the franchise that made Crosby and Hope one of Hollywood’s most beloved comedy teams in film history. In fact, the picture’s not all that bad. Yes, the crooner and the comic are older now and truer still, the gags and songs penned for them hail from another epoch in the picture-making biz entirely, creating a minor disconnect between the dialogue and ‘then’ contempo references to the space race and super-spies. And yes, it is rather shameful to have Lamour as an appendage rather than integral part of this tale. Alas, this was all Crosby’s doing, the actor suggesting that at 48, Lamour had long-since passed her prime as a glamour girl. If not for Hope’s devotion to Lamour, she might not even have made the final cut for this walk-on. But otherwise, the movie is a time capsule, and provides one final opportunity to witness the slick finesse of Crosby and Hope – the grand ‘old men’ of the jest, doing what, arguably, they did best.  

Crosby and Hope’s comedic timing is as impeccable as ever. Even in their prime, stunt men were usually called upon to perform the more ‘athletic bits’ of slapstick. And ‘the boys’, still teeming with vim and vigor, sing, laugh, dance and do an awful lot of their own schtick without the benefit of doubles – generating a real/reel marathon of popular entertainment, arguably, made less so only by the changing times. A bit of artistic license: a ‘wanted’ poster has their characters age 40 – wishful thinking as Crosby was nearing 60 and Hope actually was 60! Some movies are distinctly a product of their time, and the ‘road’ picture in totem have not aged well. Viewed today, the first two – Road to Singapore (1940) and Zanzibar (1941) are a snore, with only minor glimmers of good humor to connect the dots. Utopia (1945) and Bali (1952) hold up the best, with Morocco (1945) – arguably, the one for which the Crosby/Hope magic is best recalled, remains solidly in the race for respectable nostalgia. But nestled between, there ought to be a soft spot, either in the heart or head, for Hong Kong – its delightful jabs of pleasure still relevant today and more than a serviceable footnote in the pantheon of the team’s contributions.

Reflecting on the Road to Singapore briefly, as ‘the far east’ is again a point of destination in The Road to Hong Kong, one can definitely feel the deficit of Dorothy Lamour. Paramount, three decades earlier, had taken the gamble on putting three of its biggest box office dynamos in a single picture (not a regular practice, then). A career in Hollywood is a curious thing, riffing on the old cliché of cyclical popularity, as in, ‘Who is Dorothy Lamour?’, ‘Get me Dorothy Lamour!’, ‘Get me someone who looks like Dorothy Lamour’, ‘Get me a Dorothy Lamour type’…and finally, ‘Who is Dorothy Lamour?’  Lamour’s appeal was rather obvious in 1940; a former model come singer/actress who wore the sarong best of all. In 1962, not so much. But Lamour’s exoticism is what sold her as the perfect counterpoint to the distinctly American charm and good humor of seeing the land’s #1 crooner and comic spar with one another. In lieu of Lamour’s otherworldly sparkle, Hong Kong gets Joan Collins, whose kitten-faced sex appeal, coupled with an enviable slink, is not quite enough to get over the hurdle nor make us forget how integral Lamour was to the rest of the franchise. In the 10-year gap between 1952’s Road to Bali (the only Technicolor feature among the lot) and Road to Hong Kong, the world at large, and Hollywood in particular, had changed a great deal. What was decidedly fashionable then must have seemed vaguely jaundiced and scraping the bottom of the barrel. So, Road to Hong Kong went into theaters with an already built-in expectation it would not live up to the Crosby/Hope/Lamour legacy of yore.

Tough sell, indeed. As with most franchises, Hong Kong closes out the franchise on a snivel instead of a smash, throwing plot device after plot device at the screen, mangling mysticism and mystery, seemingly to no point. Crosby and Hope have retained their chemistry as cons on the lam, but in hindsight, the best bits in this movie revolve around its various cameos, of which Lamour’s is the most prominent.  But look closely and you will find Peter Sellers – positively hysterical as a whacked out Indian neurologist, David Niven, a lama who remembers Lady Chatterley’s lover, and, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, as ‘the grape’ and ‘twig’ of plutonium respectively. Yet, if anything, the real/reel charm of seeing such megawatt star power briefly turn up here is more to underscore how much time has gone by since the glory years of Crosby and Hope in their prime, rather than gild a lily already in grave danger from frostbite.

Plot wise: Road to Hong Kong finds Harry Turner (Crosby) and Chester Babcock (Hope) as…wait for it… ex-vaudevillians working a con in Calcutta. Things go awry when Chester is struck on the noggin while demonstrating a ‘fly by yourself’ device. He promptly suffers from amnesia. A weird and wonderful concoction of herbs from the local lamasery restores his memory but also induces Chester with the mental acuity to memorize anything at a glance – the “slope-nosed UNIVAC” as Harry nicknames him. To this end, Chester stumbles upon, and photographically absorbs a formula for rocket fuel, with sinister implications involving the despotic Leader of the 3rd Echelon (Robert Morley). Determined to delve into Chester’s memory and mine the formula for evil purposes, the leader assigns his most devout follower, Diane (Joan Collins) to seduce Chester. Alas, Diane has a change of heart after learning the Leader intends to put both Chester and Harry to death once the formula has been retrieved.  And thus, a laborious plan of escape begins. While the then ‘of the moment’ fascination with spy movies and the space race would suggest Road to Hong Kong has tapped into the popular zeitgeist of the times, it actually muddles this advantage on a series of lifeless vignettes. The picture’s saving grace is its last 20 minutes, when Lamour suddenly appears to warble ‘Warmer than A Whisper’ and then proceeds to give as good as she gets from Crosby and Hope – the old triumvirate back in action as in the good ole days.  

Until then, we have to content ourselves with Joan Collins after a roster of foreign beauties, to include Brigitte Bardot, Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren, turned the part down. It is a shay unrealistic – and more than unkind – to blame the lack of chemistry entirely on Collins, as the 10-year gap between Bali and Hong Kong likely impeded the momentum of the franchise from the outset. And truth to tell, the screenplay by Norman Panama and Melvin Frank has not grown up with the times so much as it desperately tries to take a few talking points of interest to contemporary audiences and then uncomfortably wedge them in a pastiche of better fluff from another vintage entirely. Road to Hong Kong did more than conclude the ‘road’ series. It also marked the beginning of final bows for Crosby and Hope. Crosby departed first, after only 2 more pictures: Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964) and Stagecoach (1966) – neither of which he was required to carry, while Hope marked his swan song in 1972 with the forgettable, Cancel My Reservation (in which Crosby also briefly appeared). Viewed today, The Road to Hong Kong is a rather careworn chestnut. Its appeal is mostly for completionists, eager to see the last chapter in the Hope/Crosby cycle unfold – however lackluster the results may be. On the plus side, shot entirely at Shepperton Studios in England, The Road to Hong Kong sports that laissez faire verve of an early-sixties’ Brit/coms and has some absurdly lavish sets created by production designer, Syd Cain.

Olive Media’s debut of The Road to Hong Kong, in 1.66:1 is impressive, featuring excellent contrast, deep and velvety blacks and a crispness to the overall image that shows off the sets and costumes to their best advantage. The only drawback here is occasionally we can see the trip and suspension wires used to create some of the special effects. These would likely not have been noticed in projection. The DTS 1.0 mono sounds fabulous too, with clear dialogue and an uncanny sonic resonance that, at intervals, almost performs as though some re-channeled stereophonic effect has been added to sweeten the track. Not true. The only extra is an original trailer. Bottom line: The Road to Hong Kong is not vintage Crosby/Hope. It’s okay, and intermittently charming, but that is about as far as things go. The Blu-ray is as good as it should be. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

0