DARK OF THE SUN: Blu-ray (MGM, 1968) Warner Archive

Considered a watershed in screen violence for its time, director Jack Cardiff’s Dark of the Sun (a.k.a. The Mercenaries, 1968) remains a fairly fierce, testosterone-injected action/adventure yarn, with Rod Taylor and Jim Brown at their chest-thumping utmost as barbarous and butch buddy-buddies, hired by a South African potentate to smuggle diamonds from an isolated outpost besieged by political rebellion. It should be noted both Taylor and Brown hail from a golden epoch in the masculine arts, where men were ostensibly men, expected to exercise their inherent manliness without chastisement from postmodern feminism, to be labeled little more than dispensable or worse: muscled-up clod-hoppers. In fact, Brown had recently retired from an envious tenure in pro football to become a movie star, and this, at a time when such career transitions were virtually unheard of, while Taylor hailed from bouts as a professional pugilist and rugby player in his native Australia before trading in his gloves and cleats for a stab in the picture biz. For decades, a rumor has circulated that Brown and Taylor disliked one another – on occasion – intensely, Taylor giving Brown an impressive thrashing during an altercation inside their hotel. Whatever the truth, there is no denying both men were athletically charged guy’s guys, enlisted in this little indie from producer, George Englund, released thru Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.  At times, Dark of the Sun desperately aspires to be a David Lean-esque saga (what, with Jack Cardiff, a monumental cinematographer, herein directing some of the most exotically lush locations in Jamaica - not South Africa), while at other intervals, the picture lists rather heavily for inspiration toward Robert Aldrich’s The Dirty Dozen (also costarring Jim Brown; made and released the previous year, and, to spectacular reviews and box office).

Dark of the Sun is nominally based on Wilbur Smith’s second novel; like his first, a best seller of the same name, reconstituted by screenwriters, Randall MacDougall and Adrien Spies as a hellish jaunt into the sound and fury of civil unrest, with bloodshed and the body count exponentially rising as the minutes wear on. There is some evidence to suggest the final screenplay bent so wildly away from MacDougall’s authorship that he elected to have his name taken off the project – or rather, given credit under the rather suspicious nom de plume, Quentin Werty. In subsequent interviews, when asked about Dark of the Sun, Rod Taylor stated he rewrote a good deal of the movie’s dialogue himself and was even responsible for inspiring ‘a new finish’. Again, whatever the truth, the screenplay keeps tight to the novel’s fictional account of the 1960-66 Congo Crisis when Joseph Mobutu seized power after national independence from Belgium. The novel is far more invested in promoting this anti-colonial struggle. In fact, Smith’s book anchors its drama in the Baluba Rebellion of 1960, based in the province of Katanga where UN peacekeepers were employed to guard the civilian population against secessionist slaughter that, in reality, claimed more than 100,000 lives. Conversely, the Werty/Spies’ screenplay re-positions this action during the 1964-65 Simba Rebellion, when the Congolese government recruited hardcore mercenaries to withstand a leftist insurgency.

Most of Dark of the Sun was shot in cost-cuttingly effective Jamaica; also, to take full advantage of the country’s vintage railway system, including a fully functioning steam engine. For interiors, MGM ushered Cardiff and cast to their Borehamwood British Studios, where certain process shots were later cobbled together, using background plates, shot on location, in rear projection. Some articles about this movie have erroneously suggested Africa was off limits to American film companies during this time. But this is simply not the case, as another MGM production, The Comedians (1967), although presumably set in the Caribbean, was already shooting in Benin. In assembling his roster of supporting players for Dark of the Sun, Cardiff cast renown German actor, Peter Carsten as Capt. Henlein – an ex-Nazi, hiding out (in plain sight) in the jungle. This character is directly based on the German mercenary, Siegfried Müller who actually fought in the Congo during the 1960s; Müller’s affinity for sporting the Iron Cross, herein, switched for Henlein’s proud display of the Nazi swastika as a badge of honor pinned to his chest. When Dark of the Sun was released in Germany, the character of Bruce Curry (Rod Taylor) was speciously re-branded as Willy Krüger, an ex-Wehrmacht officer whose clashes with Henlein over the latter's fanatical Nazism had been legendary. Interestingly, the German version excised the scene where Henlein murders two Congolese children, presumably, to make him an only ‘slightly’ more sympathetic villain.

Dark of the Sun is loosely set somewhere in the mid-1960s. But the main titles, with a superb underscore by Jacques Loussier, have the dubious distinction of ripping off Sergio Leone’s The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (1966); black silhouettes, recessed against a blood red background. Almost immediately, we come upon the winning combo of Bruce Curry and his devoted sidekick, Ruffo (Jim Brown), disembarking a plane on a crude landing strip overrun by refugees seeking escape from the civil war enveloping their nation. While everyone else wants out, Curry and Ruffo want in. After a brief verbal skirmish with UN peacekeepers, Curry and his cohort are let through and chauffeur-driven through the impoverished city streets to the rather posh digs of Congolese President Mwamini Ubi (the sadly underrated, Calvin Lockhart). Ubi is a wily sort, living off the backs of his people. Outwardly, he reports to have hired Curry for a 3-day mission to liberate and rescue a small contingent of residents trapped in an isolated village surrounded by rebel Simbas in the Congo. However, Ubi also demands that Curry come back with the real pirate’s booty of $50 million in uncut diamonds, so far secure inside a mining company’s vaults. Curry is unimpressed by Ubi’s faux concern for the villagers; even less excited about his offer of $25,000 for his lion’s share of the effort. Agreeing upon a fee twice that, Curry and Ruffo depart for a nearby watering hole to assemble their forces.

With a bottle of cheap scotch, Curry woes an old campaigner, the disgraced and alcoholic, Doctor Wreid (Kenneth More) to accompany them – in case they require his surgical skills. Wreid calls Curry out as an unscrupulous bastard, but agrees to his terms, provided Curry furnishes him with a whole crate of scotch. Curry also reluctantly recruits ex-Nazi, Henlein, strictly for his military expertise and leadership skills. Curry and Brown encounter the racist attitudes of the local press, quickly dispatched by Curry, who exercises his general contempt towards those who quietly sit on their assets, waiting for real men to do the heavy lifting so they can write about it. Meanwhile, Ubi furnishes Curry with the necessary papers, the use of a steam train, and, a contingent of his soldiers to complete the mission. The journey is fraught with dangers. Almost immediately, the train is under siege from a dive-bombing United Nation’s peacekeeping plane. A little further up the rails, Curry and his entourage encounter a decimated homestead, the house ablaze, with bloody bodies strewn about the porch and adjacent fields. The lone survivor, Claire (Yvette Mimeux) is quickly rescued by Curry, tearfully relaying the tale of this horrific carnage by the Simbas that also claimed the life of her husband.

Curry and Ruffo’s friendship is strained by their diverging purposes; Ruffo, personalizing the mission as his part in the liberation of his people. Curry can only see the monetary value to be gained. Recognizing this split in their investment, and Curry’s general lack of principles, the wholly unscrupulous Henlein begins to plant the seeds of further dissent between Curry and Ruffo. Having unearthed the real purpose for their ‘mercy’ mission – the recovery of the diamonds – Henlein suspects two innocent children of being Simba spies. Without remorse, he brutally slaughters the pair, incurring Curry’s wrath and Ruffo’s utter repulsion; Ruffo, illustrating his compassion by collecting their bodies in his arms to an unmarked grave. Ratcheting up this mutual animosity, Henlein inveigles himself romantically into Claire’s good graces. But she is wise to his oily charm and rejects it outright. Confronting Henlein, Curry is unexpectedly attacked with his swagger stick, and then, a chainsaw. However, Henlein has underestimated Curry’s ability to snap on cue.  Instead, Curry beats Henlein into submission and then, attempts to crush Henlein’s skull beneath the metal wheels of the moving train, narrowly prevented by Ruffo’s intervention.

Arriving in the remote outpost, Curry encounters the benevolent Bussier (André Morell) who, alas, having overestimated the hour of their arrival, has mis-set the timer on the safe containing the diamonds for 3-hours ahead of their schedule. With nothing to do but wait, Bussier encourages Curry to help rescue Father Dominic (John Serret) and some nuns, presently isolated inside a mission hospital in the hills. Borrowing a jeep, Curry and Claire make their pilgrimage to the mission. Meanwhile, Henlein gets Doc Wreid miserably drunk. The two cohorts behave like drunken fools, shooting up a local watering hole. Unable to convince Father Dominic to abandon his hospital, especially since a local expectant mother requires immediate Caesarian surgery to spare her life and that of her unborn child, Curry returns to the outpost to collect Wreid. He is disgusted by Wreid’s behavior. Shamed for the last time, Wreid returns to the mission hospital to perform the necessary surgery. There are complications. Now, the Simbas advance. Wreid instructs Curry to take Claire and flee for their lives. He will remain behind and fulfill his duties as a medical officer.

Knowing he will likely not survive the advancing onslaught, Wreid bids Curry and Claire goodbye. Back at the outpost, the Simbas assail the village before the vault can be opened. Unable to delay this ambush, Curry has no alternative but to escape with Bussier, his wife and the rest of the town’s folk by train without his small fortune in diamonds. Alas, the Simbas are organized beyond even Curry’s expectations. They bomb the train, dislocating the coup link and separating the car carrying Bussier, his wife and most of the town’s people. They also derail the locomotive further up the tracks. As Curry and his men narrowly avert being murdered, the abandoned train car with Bussier in tow slumps back into the village where it is brutally attacked; Bussier, shooting his wife and then himself with a small pistol to spare them a worse fate. As night falls upon the village, Curry and Ruffo elect to launch a daring retrieval of the diamonds, now being held inside the hotel bar where the Simbas looting and revelry continues. Feigning his own death, Curry instructs Ruffo to carry his ‘lifeless body’ into the thick of the debauchery. What they encounter within is sickening: male and female rape, murder and unspeakable torture of the remaining civilians. Staging their daring diversion, Ruffo and Curry manage to steal a pair of assault rifles from these captors. Now, they begin to obliterate the Simbas stronghold. Curry seizes the diamonds and together with Ruffo, they escape into the hills. Regrettably, the fuel truck is sabotaged.

To make it to safety, Curry instructs Ruffo to drain the gasoline rations from their two remaining trucks carrying the soldiers and pour it all into the jeep. Ruffo dutifully complies, but then has his doubts about whether Curry will come back for them once he has the diamonds, as well as the means to escape. Angry and wounded by this inference, Curry hands over the sack containing the diamonds to Ruffo and instructs him to fetch the Captain of the Army, Kataki (Bloke Modisane) to accompany him in Ruffo’s stead. Surely, this is enough to convince Ruffo of his integrity. Ashamed of his suspicions, Ruffo secretly tucks the diamond sack into the back of the jeep without Curry’s knowledge to illustrate his faith in Curry. Unaware of the switch, Curry and Kataki depart for the outpost to acquire their rations. Left to his own devices, Henlein quietly murders Ruffo in an attempt to steal the diamonds. Unable to locate the sack, Henlein next assaults Claire by the river’s edge, nearly drowning her before endeavoring a frenzied escape up the nearby river on a makeshift raft.

Discovering the diamond sack in the back of the jeep, Curry realizes Ruffo’s faith in him has not been shaken. After retrieving their rations, Curry proposes a toast with Kataki to Ruffo. Bittersweetly, Curry finds the soldiers preparing to bury Ruffo. Claire informs him of Henlein’s complicity. Enraged, Curry pursues Henlein down the river by jeep. Eventually, Curry manages to corner his nemesis, resulting in a perilous chase on foot along the craggy shores, up a steep ravine and down an even more slippery and jagged embankment where Curry bludgeons and stabs Henlein to death. Witnessing this hellish brutality being unleashed on Henlein, Kataki refuses to follow Curry’s lead any longer. He has lost all credibility as ‘an officer’. Awakening from his blind rage, Curry concurs with Kataki’s assessment of his crime. He turns over control of the mission, as well as his weapon to Kataki, leaving Claire to an uncertain future as Curry demands a court-martial for his actions. Kataki salutes Curry before escorting him into the back of the truck convoy.

Dark of the Sun’s finale is as apocalyptic and unsettling as the nearly 2 hours of carnage we have just witnessed on the screen. Released, as it was, at the tail end of an era in film-making that, despite the demise of the Production Code just a few short years before, still valued something of the proverbial ‘happy ending’ – or, at least – injecting a nugget or two to moralize all that had gone before it – Dark of the Sun’s betrayal of these time-honored Hollywood edicts deprives its audience of their cathartic release. Is it any wonder the picture failed to catch on in 1968 when entertainment was still regarded as an ‘escapism’ from reality? From our current vantage of ubiquitous ethical ambiguity – where goodness, often slips into a marginalized and very muddy grey area from which it cannot even be entirely perceived as such – Dark of the Sun plays with a startling frankness, even a sobering foreshadowing for all the perversions in the human condition yet to be committed to celluloid, but long since come to pass; steadily, to reflect and further promote the appalling turpitude we now consider as mainstream and acceptable in contemporary film, as in society.

Rod Taylor and Jim Brown lack the traditional buddy-buddy chemistry anticipated from this sort of war-themed action/drama. Still, in the moments before Curry’s wounded reaction to Ruffo’s passing turns to blind rage, Taylor offers us as genuine and manly remorse. Besides, Taylor and Brown are stars in their own right. Mostly, they deliver the goods; Taylor, through a portrait of brainy brawn, tested to its breaking point, and Brown, a nobler reflection, meant to personalize the narrative with an undercurrent of political activism, albeit, repeatedly diffused in the Werty/Spies’ screenplay. One sincerely wishes cinematographer, Edward Scaife had avoided his periodic reliance on transparently obvious rear-projection during various action sequences. These departures from the immaculate location photography are distracting and seem, in hindsight, arbitrarily inserted, merely to extend certain sequences. Jack Cardiff’s direction exhibits the confidence of a seasoned pro who – let’s face it – shot some of the most exotic and stunningly handsome visuals ever conceived for the movies. But in last analysis, Dark of the Sun remains a minor programmer: a good, though never truly great movie.  

Dark of the Sun arrives – finally! – from the Warner Archive (WAC). This title was promised all the way back in May of 2018, but was then quietly delayed for no explicable reason, and then, pulled from the studio’s slate, only to resurface for a pre-order in October; again, put on the back burner until late December. But now – it’s here and looking absolutely immaculate in 1080p. As with most deep catalog releases via WAC, Dark of the Sun bears the hallmarks of due diligence paid to every last step in the remastering process; yielding exquisite color fidelity, much fine detail, a modicum of perfectly preserved film grain and gorgeous contrast. In short, there is nothing to complain about here. Those familiar with Dark of the Sun only from its endless reissues on badly worn VHS and DVDs, riddled in age-related artifacts, are in for a huge treat.  It should be noted, there is some minor gate weave – especially during the process shots and woefully obvious in the main titles. Nevertheless, its influence on image stability overall is negligible at best. The 2.0 DTS audio is what you would expect: clean, subtly nuanced (for a mono mix) and perfectly preserving the integrity of the original theatrical experience. Extras are limited to a rather lackluster and meandering audio commentary from Larry Karazekski, Josh Olseon, Brian Suar, and Elric D. Kane. I suppose this is as good a time as any to illustrate my general disinterest in these ‘group discussion’ commentaries, as they deviate from their aimed rationale, with zero context beyond anecdotal schmoozing and ‘in’ jokes. The aforementioned quartet involved in this particular exercise is obviously having a very good time. But they fail to engage the listener with their banter. Instead their musings, threadbare on fact, displaced and overlapping, merely fill run time. The only other extra is a badly worn theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Dark of the Sun on Blu-ray will surely please its litany of die hard fans. Others may not be as easily impressed. 

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1