BILLY BUDD: Blu-ray (Allied Artists, 1962) Warner Archive
“Taking a book off the brain is akin to the ticklish
& dangerous business of taking an old painting off a panel—you have to
scrape off the whole business in order to get at it with safety.”
– Herman
Melville
Herman Melville
was not exactly what you might call an expedient writer. Indeed, the
aforementioned comment, made during his arduous crafting of Moby Dick, led Melville to a nearly 3-decade
hiatus from authorship, concentrating instead on poetry. Yet, this quote could
just as easily have applied to his 5-year gestation on Billy Budd; Melville’s farewell to the literary world. Billy Budd lay dormant and incomplete after
Melville’s death, and then, until 1919, published in 1924 only after Columbia
scholar, Raymond Weaver, posthumously unearthed the author’s notations, left to
molder with the past since 1891. Melville’s widow was ambiguous about this
version of her husband’s critically acclaimed masterwork; the odyssey to decipher
badly muddled transcriptions, leading to more reinterpretation and misdirection
until Northwestern’s Harrison Hayford and Merton Sealts’ re-publication of the
‘corrected’ text in 1962, as prepared by G. Thomas Tanselle.
Yet, even in its
now widely regarded bastardized form, Billy
Budd was hailed by the critics, transposed into a morality play on Broadway
and also, of all things, an opera – debuting together in 1951. Interestingly, 1962 marked the release of Billy Budd – the movie; a superbly
mounted passion project, directed, produced and co-written by Peter Ustinov and
handsomely photographed in B&W Cinemascope by Robert Krasker. Released by
Allied Artists, the picture is a noteworthy personal triumph for Ustinov, also denoting
the first appearance of 24-yr.-old Terence Stamp as the titular hero. Stamp’s
unusually piercing good looks, coupled with a striking presence, earned him a
Best Supporting Oscar nod, as well as immediate international notoriety. Still, Ustinov was taking no chances, casting
himself as Post Capt. Edwin Fairfax Vere, teetering between his devotion to
Budd – as the true innocent of the piece – and his duties to the crown and rule
of law. In the pivotal role of the envious and unscrupulously black-hearted
Master d’arms, John Claggart, Ustinov went with the cinema’s favorite bastard
du jour, Robert Ryan, whose performance is so viciously on point, it makes
Budd’s striking Claggart, and inadvertently killing him with this single-punch
assault, all the more a cause célèbre to effectively divide both the crew of
the Avenger and the audiences’ empathy for the besieged Budd.
Billy Budd is a tale about the ancient crust of prejudice snuffing
out a young man, pure of heart and forthright who, through an act of contrition
for his hasty actions, comes to exemplify the martyred Christ-like figure.
Budd’s selfless display of good sense absolves virtually all the moral
turpitude gone before him. And Stamp, whose moody eyes, half drawn in a
constant quest to understand and illustrate compassion for his fellow man –
however morally bankrupt, typifies Melville’s dangerously liberated, gravely high-minded
and indominable figure of faith; Budd’s strength drawn not from the swarthy
cynicism of male brawn run amuck, rather, a restrained and silent concern,
disseminated to the crew of the Avenger, badly in need of it. For this
memorable enactment, Stamp, in addition to his Oscar nod, also earned the Golden
Globe for Most Promising Male Newcomer, while Ustinov and the movie were
nominated for 4 BAFTAs. Ustinov’s devotion to Melville pretty much follows the
trajectory of author’s book – with noted exceptions; Ustinov, seeing no good
reason to deviate from or ‘improve upon’ literary greatness.
So, it’s 1797: the
HMS Avenger, pressing into service, according to the Rights of War, a crewmember from the merchant ship, The Rights of Man. The new arrival is
Billy Budd (Terence Stamp), whose uncanny gentleness is misperceived by the
Avenger’s shipmates for gullibility. Indeed,
only The Dansker (Melvyn Douglas) seems to be considerate toward the boy. The
others, particularly, maintopman, Enoch Jenkins (Ronald Lewis), gunnery office, Steven
Wyatt (David McCallum) and Claggart’s assistant, Squeak (Lee Montague) are
intent on luring Budd into their web of rank cynicism. They will not succeed.
For Budd’s unwavering hopefulness steadily reveals an impenetrable confidence
that cannot be tainted. Despite the
daily rigors of life aboard ship, general unfriendliness of the crew, and,
Claggart’s constant endeavor to humiliate the new inductee, Budd chooses never
to be defeated and soon, much to Claggart’s chagrin, this wins him many silent
admirers. Claggart firmly believes loyalty is won by ruling with fear of
reprisals. The understanding heart and inherent respect for one’s fellow man
has no place on his watch.
Budd’s only
shortcoming is a stammer, exacerbated when he becomes anxious. Unable to fault the
man who never frowns on them, the Avenger’s crewmen set aside any prejudices
they might have had to favor Budd’s loyalty and discipline. Still, Claggart believes
he can break the new recruit’s quiet resolve through abject humiliation. Budd
repeatedly endeavors to befriend the master d’arms, but to no avail. In fact,
Budd’s unflinching tolerance of Claggart’s contempt for him – reciprocated even
with more kindness – only serves to have the opposite effect. Claggart’s spite
for Budd exponentially mounts. More than ever, he is determined to make an
example of Budd, even if he has to fabricate a situation to justify lashing out
and plying his cruelties. Claggart’s belief in physical punishment to will
loyalty is quietly resisted by Budd. While Claggart repeatedly savages the other
men to cripple their self-worth, Budd elevates the importance of
self-preservation by example. At a stalemate in his revenge, Claggart orders
Squeak to concoct an incident he can use to put Budd on report. Eventually, this
wily pair conspire to implicate Budd in a phony mutiny.
Proudly
asserting his authority, Claggart brings the charges to Captain Vere’s
attention. Vere, however, is not so easily fooled. Indeed, the Captain recognizes
Claggart as a shameless brute, and, barring definitive proof (of which Verve is
certain none exists) he absolutely refuses to entertain the Master d’arm’s inference
Budd is a despicable mutineer. Although Claggart cannot implicate Budd directly,
he nevertheless pursues a campaign to manufacture the necessary proof. Claggart
cannot abide Budd, who stands in relief from his own cold heart for his unwavering
regard for human frailty; a quality Claggart not only despises, but ostensibly
possesses no firsthand knowledge. Budd is therefore an anathema to his
wickedness and must be made an example. But how? Budd’s reputation is sterling.
Furthermore, he has already proven that his buoyant self-confidence, although
greatly tested, cannot be broken. To settle their differences once and for all,
Vere elects to hold a private meeting with Claggart and Budd. Inadvertently,
this will become the catalyst for Budd’s undoing. Although Vere does not
believe for a moment Claggart’s implication Budd is a mutinous conspirator, he
is nevertheless eager to hear Budd’s defense. Alas, shaken by such unbridled
wickedness that could accuse him of treason, Budd’s stammer gets the better of
him. Unable to speak, he lashes out with a single, solid punch, sending
Claggart backwards. It is a lethal blow, as the Master d’arms strikes his head
on the nearby block and tackle, dying instantly.
As a point of
law, Vere must now convene a court-martial. The Captain and his officers are
acutely aware of Budd’s humility and Claggart’s malevolence towards all. But Vere is bound by the rule of law. Budd ought to be found guilty simply for
striking Claggart – his superior – let alone, for killing him. Hence, as the
testimonials given begin to favor Budd, Vere is forced to intervene against Budd
and find him guilty - a very bitter pill for Vere to swallow. His heart would
have preferred to side with those leaning toward Budd’s exoneration. Instead,
he is condemned to hang from the ship’s yardarm at dawn. Undaunted, Budd
bravely concedes this is the correct decision and utters his final words, “God bless Captain Vere.” Budd’s forgiveness overwhelms Vere. As he is
hanged from the ships rigging, the crew, appalled by the loss, teeter on the
verge of mutiny, with Vere conflicted by his deed. Before any more
contemplation can occur, a French vessel appears on the horizon and fires on
the Avenger. Vere retaliates. But a
heavy crossbeam is loosened by the resultant canon fire, plummeting to the
Avenger’s deck and killing the Captain instantly. The Avenger’s figurehead is
also blown to bits as a voice-over narration heralds Budd’s sacrifice as truly
heroic.
The tragedy in Billy Budd is resplendently sobering;
innocence, denied its better angels by the best of intentions put forth in an
insincere world, bound by legality. Any law that would allow a manifestly
iniquitous individual the authority – if not the right – to have a solid
citizen destroyed over a moment’s indiscretion, is arguably a law not worth
having…or, at least, so Melville’s novel and, more pointedly, Ustinov’s movie
emphasizes. The victory of Billy Budd, the character, is more enduring; an
exercise in devout kindness for its own sake, self-governance, and, the moral
clarity of character itself, accepting personal responsibility for a situation Budd
may not have begun or even directly inspired, but ultimately created during his
moment’s lapse in judgement. The performances throughout Billy Budd are as thought-provoking and memorable; particularly,
Terence Stamp’s subtly nuanced sacrificial lamb. Ustinov’s direction tends to
favor Capt. Vere on an even counterpoint – as is the decision-making power
afforded a movie star who steps both behind and in front of the camera. Even so, Ustinov’s formidable presence neither
detracts nor strangely augments the picture in any significant way.
Ustinov is a
very fine talent. That much is certain. And he adds yet another compelling characterization
to his ever-expanding pantheon of character studies for Billy Budd. But it is not Ustinov’s story to tell, so to speak, and
Vere’s loss at the end is played up a bit too dramatically, ever so slightly to
impugn Melville’s focus. Nevertheless, as a movie, Billy Budd is superb entertainment, the lion’s share of the credit
owed Stamp and Robert Ryan as sustained adversaries; the former, denying evil
at every turn – except in the last; the latter, ultimately misjudging the
untimely outcome of his brute temptations.
Billy Budd is not a ‘flashy’
picture; nor are the performances in it show-boating for dramatic effect. The
power and the glory of the piece is derived from its pursuit of goodness and
truth, calculatingly inquired and answered for a world where neither goodness
nor truth is a particularly valued commodity, except, perhaps after both have
been lost.
Warner Archive
brings Billy Budd to Blu in a
stunning 1080p transfer, showing off Robert Krasker’s B&W cinematography to
its very best. This is a pluperfect effort from a studio known to preserve
cinema heritage for future generations to study and enjoy. How does one
quantify perfection? Well, judging by WAC’s results herein, quite easily:
solid, rich, velvety blacks, crisp/clean whites that never bloom, bang-on
excellent contrast, a modicum of film grain, looking very indigenous to its
source, and, what else is there to say? Oh, right. No age-related artifacts or
edge enhancement either. The 2.0 mono is adequate and, in spots, subtly
nuanced. Billy Budd looks and sounds
as good as it ever did – possibly even better, after all the digital bells and
whistles have been applied. You are going to love – LOVE – this disc. It’s that
simple.
Terence Stamp and Steven Soderbergh offer up an audio commentary, ported over from the old DVD release. I have to say, it's not as engaging nor as comprehensive as I would have preferred, the two frequently veering off into sidebars that have little to do with the movie. We also get a theatrical trailer - ho-hum! Bottom line: Billy Budd is a powerful
and illuminating story about human sacrifice, exquisitely remastered in hi-def.
Own this one? By God – yes!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
1
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