MISTER ROBERTS: Blu-ray (Warner Brothers, 1955) Warner Archive

The just recipient of 3 Academy Awards (winning for Best Supporting Actor – Jack Lemmon), at a glance, Mister Roberts (1955) may seem like an odd picture to be directed by John Ford. Indeed, Ford would not last out the picture, replaced by Mervyn LeRoy, and Joshua Logan (who received no credit for his involvement, but was instrumental at plying some key finishing touches). And if the results proved seminal as well as satisfying, behind the scenes, it was hardly ‘joy galore’.  Ford fought like hell to have Henry Fonda as his star; Fonda, at 49, much too old to play the ‘average’ lieutenant junior, Douglas A. Roberts, and, due to his 8-year hiatus from both stage and screen, no longer considered bankable box office by Jack Warner, who pressed Ford to consider either William Holden or Marlon Brando in his stead. Ford won that battle, though arguably, lost the war, regrettably clashing with Fonda almost immediately - and frequently on the set. He also did not much care for James Cagney (cast as Lieutenant Commander Captain Morton). In later reflections, Cagney referred to Ford as that ‘goddamn, mean, old, son of a bitch’ who road buckshot over everyone from the moment cameras began to roll, creating an atmosphere of rank animosity in constant conflict with the otherwise lighthearted performances emerging on the screen. And Cagney, used to dealing with challenges, decided to test a theory by arriving slightly late on set for his first day’s shoot. When Ford became incensed, Cagney beat Ford to the punch, saying “When I started this picture, you said we would tangle asses before this was over. I'm ready now – are you?” The caustic Ford backed off. “I would have kicked his brains in!” Cagney later mused. And, knowing Cagney as we do, there is little doubt he would have done it too!

After Ford was replaced by LeRoy, due to a particularly heated altercation in which he socked Fonda in the jaw, only to suffer his own gall bladder attack, necessitating immediate surgery, LeRoy endeavored to reproduce Ford’s inimitable style by screening all the rushes Ford had already completed. Alas, in Ford’s absence, co-director, Joshua Logan, prodded by Fonda (who had directed him in the stage adaptation), undertook to re-take many scenes, employing his own static use of the camera, somewhat at odds with Ford’s more fluid style. For Jack Lemmon, the making of Mister Roberts proved a fortuitous springboard for a lifelong friendship with James Cagney who surprised Lemmon during their ‘cute meet’ on the set when he inquired whether the actor was still trying to ‘fool’ his audience into believing he was left-handed. Apparently, Cagney had seen an early performance from Lemmon on television in which Lemmon, to spice up a dull part, had decided to challenge himself by learning to play all his scenes left-handed. The exercise was so convincing, not even Lemmon’s wife had picked up on the change. But Cagney, with decades of experience already behind him, had spotted the ruse at a glance. Cagney and Lemmon would remain lifelong friends until Cagney’s death in 1986.

Ironically, Mister Roberts proved the final film for Cagney at Warner Bros., the studio to have fostered his ‘tough guy’ persona and shape a career for nearly 3 decades. It was also the swan song for co-star, William Powell (cast as Doc), whose participation in the movies dated all the way back to the silent era. Known for his urbane wit and sophistication, Powell, who had charmed several generations with his devil-may-care detective, Nick Charles, and been a beloved of MGM’s throughout the 1930’s and 40’s, still had many years ahead of him. He died in 1984. But Powell was also acutely aware that the sun had set on his ability to command a picture on his star power alone, and, seemingly contented, retired from the picture-making biz with no animosity for the fact the parade in his popularity had suddenly passed him by. The original Broadway production of Mister Roberts, staged by Thomas Heggen and Joshua Logan, had been a whopping success, running 1157 performances and winning a Tony in 1948 for the Best Play. And while the movie would go on the ledgers as a hit, raking in an impressive $21,000,000 for Warner Bros., Fonda and Logan both claimed it as a wan ghost flower of the Broadway original.

Nevertheless, some 65 years after its debut, Mister Roberts remains an outstandingly first-class bit of showbiz razzamatazz, its proficient blend of corn and comedy, melded onto flag-waving patriotism and yen for all-out chaos, infectious and compelling. In keeping with the Eisenhower-generation’s homogenized view of America ‘the beautiful’, the original locker-room badinage, a main staple of Heggen’s novel and stagecraft, is a touch more genteel in the movie – emasculated, even – diffusing the most ribald bits into a sort of quaint exchange of only slightly ‘blue’ jokes and ideas. But otherwise, much of what Heggen had written has survived the transition from page, to stage, and finally, to the expansive Cinemascope screen. The real/reel gem of the picture remains Jack Lemmon’s Ensign Frank Pulver - an indolent and slick skirt-chaser, moored on the U.S.S. Reluctant for 14 months, managing the laundry and ship’s morale in tandem. In Lemmon we find ourselves, or that is, anyone who has had to use his wits and creativity to endure a ‘dull as paint’ job to maintain his sanity. Pulver’s antithesis is Henry Fonda’s Roberts – the person we would most likely wish to be, though so often are not – a man of conscience, who just wants his opportunity to do the right thing and partake of the war. After all, why else is he in uniform? The other joyously observant performance here is owed William Powell, as the introspective and philosophical ‘sage’ - Doc.

Our story begins during the waning days of World War II, aboard the U.S. Navy cargo ship, Reluctant, stationed somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Executive officer/cargo chief, Lieutenant Douglas A. Roberts is apoplectic the ship has not seen any action, but does his utmost to safeguard the crestfallen crew from the punitive and disliked captain, Lieutenant Commander Morton (James Cagney). Roberts’ repeated requests for a transfer are begrudgingly forwarded on by Morton, even as he refuses to endorse them. Hence, Roberts stays put, sharing his quarters with the one man who is an anathema to his passion - Ensign Frank Thurlowe Pulver. Pulver is a clever idler, spending most of his days relaxing and staying out of Morton’s range, and thus, under his radar. Once discovered, Pulver cowers before Morton, although behind his back he is often adamant in expressing his desire for mutiny against the tyrant. Roberts underhandedly applies for, and, is granted crew liberty from one of Morton’s superiors, as recompence for meeting their arduous resupply schedule. The liberty is supposed to take effect once they reach their next resupply depot. But once anchored in the picturesque South Sea port, Morton denies the crew their much-anticipated shore leave. In private, Morton informs Roberts no one will get liberty as long as Roberts continues to write his letters objecting to disharmony aboard the ship, as these have endangered Morton's chances for a promotion. In exchange for Roberts’ compliance, Morton is willing to ease up on his restrictions. So, Roberts relents, and the crew is let loose on the unsuspecting inhabitants of the island. Alas, their wild antics land the lot in jail, carted back to the Reluctant, which is ordered to set sail immediately. Morton is reprimanded by the port captain, leaving him speechless but enraged. Now, Morton deceives the crew into believing Roberts is using them to get a promotion. But when Roberts is informed of a new Navy policy that might assist his getting a transfer in spite of Morton’s stonewalling, Roberts refuses to take advantage of it.

Roberts is deeply disheartened, knowing the war may end without his ever being called to serve in combat. Inspired by the radio broadcast during VE Day, Roberts tosses Morton's prized palm tree overboard. Discovering the loss, Morton demands the culprit step forward. No one does. But Morton knows only Roberts could have done the deed. Via an open microphone, the rest of the crew also learn of it. Oddly enough, not long thereafter Roberts receives his transfer. Doc quietly reveals to Roberts that he requested the change of venue on Roberts’ behalf, forging Morton’s signature – an act that could get him court-martialed. As he prepares to leave ship, the crew presents Roberts with a handmade medal: The Order of the Palm, for ‘action against the enemy’. Not long thereafter, Pulver, newly appointed as the cargo officer, receives two letters. The first, from Roberts, expresses great enthusiasm for his appointment aboard the USS Livingston, preparing to go into the Battle of Okinawa. Alas, the second is from Pulver’s college classmate, also aboard the Livingston, who informs Pulver, Roberts was killed during a kamikaze attack shortly after the first letter had been posted. Infuriated, Pulver pitches Morton’s replacement palm tree overboard, marching into Morton's cabin to brag about it and demanding an explanation regarding the cancelation of a previously planned ‘movie night’ for the crew. Morton shakes his head. One thorn in his side - removed, another has poked through to take its place.

While the driving force behind the picture’s success back in the day was likely audience anticipation to see a great play adapted into a movie, in Cinemascope no less, the main reason to see Mister Roberts today is to admire its superior acting on all accounts. The cast here is superb and do justice to both the drama and comedy on tap in Frank S. Nugent and Joshua Logan’s screenplay. But Logan’s static direction here is pretty lethal. The whole idea of Cinemascope – especially in its early years – was to expedite the process of shooting a picture by creating moving tableaus in which ‘cutting’ would become an unnecessary byproduct of the picture-making process; the actors, instead, positioned within the frame to allow for a certain amount of movement within it and thus, ensuring longer takes. But watching Mister Roberts today, one is struck by two elements – first, how competently the cast come together and interact in such sustained moments on the screen, but also, by how rigid some of these tableaus seem to appear, even with quality acting on tap. No aspersions cast: Mister Roberts is still a very fine film. But I think I will concur with Henry Fonda’s assessment here (and never having seen it on Broadway), probably, as a play, it had a more lasting – and engaging – impact than as a movie. Just a guess, on my part. But Fonda ought to know, having starred in the stage version for 1,157 performances!

Mister Roberts arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) and in the first quality home video release ever. For decades, home viewing has been hampered by image harvests from dupes, shoddy bootlegs, and, just the shortcomings of vintage WarnerColor – a disastrous color process the studio continued to push in lieu of more expensive Technicolor. For its 65th anniversary, WAC has gone back to original elements and done one of the most miraculous remastering jobs in recent times – which is saying quite a lot for a company solidly committed to its deep catalog releases in hi-def. Point blank: Mister Roberts has never looked more stellar on home video – period. And while vintage ‘issues’ with Cinemascope’s anamorphic process and WarnerColor do persist, they now seem to be within their proper ‘margin of error’ – the anomalies looking very indigenous to the source, and not the result of fades, flaws or other age-related warping with the passage of time. So, colors are rich – mostly – and fine detail pops as it should. Indeed, at times, the WarnerColor palette even suggests an image shot in vintage Technicolor – very impressive indeed. Contrast is excellent. A light smattering of film grain has been expertly reproduced. The 2.55:1 image, shot in the Midway isles, Hawaii and on the Warner backlot by cinematographer extraordinaire, Winton Hoch, is film-like and fantastic. The 5.1 DTS audio also gives a very fine reflection of vintage ‘scope’ 6-track magnetic stereo. For a dialogue-driven movie, the subtle nuances here are extremely noticeable. The only extra is Jack Lemmon’s audio commentary, carried over from the 1998 DVD release, and well worth your time. Mr. Lemmon has a lot to say, and says it with class – a true gentleman in the classical sense of that word! Bottom line: consider your DVD a coaster for your drink. Mister Roberts on Blu-ray is another ‘blue ribbon’ winner from WAC. Buy with confidence. Treasure forever!

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

1

 

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