MIDAS RUN: Blu-ray (ABC/Cinerama, 1969) Kino Lorber

A tedious crack, cooked up by the Cinerama Corp. for ABC Films, and unambiguously preordained to benefit from the James Bond craze, alas - with its impressive all-star roster unreservedly misspent in faux espionage, played strictly for kicks and giggles, Alf Kjelin's Midas Run (1969) is about as ill-favored as the spy genre gets. How any movie with the combined talents of Fred Astaire, Cesar Romero, Adolfo Celi, Ralph Richardson, Roddie McDowell and Richard Crenna could be anything less than a spectacular entertainment is principally the fault of a very ham-fisted script by Ronald Austin, James Buchanan and Berne Giler.  Aside from Astaire's beguilingly spry spy master, John Pedley, much of the cast is misused in walk-on parts that are as dead-end as having absolutely nothing of distinction to contribute, either within the tepid exchanges in dialogue, or the invalided plot. Such as it is – the story involves a deliberately botched frame-up of an enterprising, if not terribly bright American writer, Mike Warden (Crenna) and his accidental paramour, Sylvia Giroux (Anne Heywood - who also warbles the poppy ‘Connie Francis-esque’ title tune, written by Elmer Bernstein and Don Black). Midas Run would have star power to recommend it. If only it were not otherwise a horrific hodge-podge of scenes, snippets and sound bites, seemingly excised from Bond writer, Richard Maibaum’s bargain annex in creative dearth.

Pedley's entire excuse for orchestrating this elaborate hoax stems from a grudge against the crown - never recognized for a knighthood throughout his many decades of sterling service.  So, Pedley plots to have a consignment of Britain's gold ingots stolen, arranging for Warden to accidentally/on purpose bump into the elegant Sylvia, married to Paul (Jacques Sernas), an ineffectual wimp, who thinks nothing of pimping his wife out to rich Italian playboy, Carlo Dodero (Romero). The wrinkle: Sylvia is nobody's rent-by-the-hour fool, even if she falls ass-over-tea-kettle for the inebriated and practically penniless Warden from the moment he chivalrously puts her up in a hotel room adjacent his own.  Before long, we are vetted by some soppy-wet montages – nude loins pressed tightly together, in the throes of rather passionless sex, complete with Freudian symbolism - flower ‘buds’ blossoming ripe cherry red. Ugh! Can we just have an American movie that dispenses with the roaring fireplaces, waves breaking upon the sand, and, other glories of burgeoning nature, metaphorically speaking for the flame of desire, that isn’t afraid of a little on-the-nose strong sex between consenting adults? This love scene is so archaic it belongs in the Smithsonian, sandwiched between the petrified mummies and extinct reptiles. And what is with the orchestral flourishes; Elmer Bernstein’s ode to deep penetration, an especially gushing, brash and bawdy glissando?  With so much under-cooked chum being peddled as Grade A chuck, the machinations by which Pedley inveigles – then, with as little involvement – disentangles his star-crossed lovers from spending the rest of their lives in prison, is hardly worth mentioning.

Midas Run’s plot is worse than nebulous and incoherent. It is a pointlessly putrid omnibus of banalities; the textbook movie-maker’s guide on how to squander so very much and come up with so very little. Kenneth Higgins’ cinematography, taking full advantage of the glamorous Venice, Rome and London locales, can only do so much to stave off the general tenor of ennui that exponentially mounts as these 106 minutes of dreck un-spool. Richard Crenna has publicly laid the blame at Anne Heywood’s supple feet, claiming that “the original screenplay was marvelous, but it was probably surprising that the movie didn't turn out worse, considering the script changes our leading lady made.” Midas Run was reportedly made as part of a 2-picture deal with ABC, inked by Heywood and her producer/hubby, Raymond Stross; the other property, the infinitely more rewarding ‘art house’ pic, The Fox (1967) - based on the scandalous novel by D.H. Lawrence.  Reportedly, hedging their bets, just in case The Fox proved a stinker, Midas Run was conceived as the more ‘commercially’ viable property to shore up the red ink.  What a relief, The Fox actually made money, because Midas Run barely recouped half of its $1 million plus outlay.

And so, we come to the plot…such as it is: with old-hand agent on her Majesty’s secret service, John Pedley, peeved at being overlooked – yet again – for a knighthood by the Queen, despite his many years of sterling service.  Cool customer, that Pedley – a fey old soul, trotting down King’s Road in his bowler and umbrella – a paragon of poise and respectability.  He hides his animosity well. Only now, Pedley decides to get even with the crown and prove his mettle by hijacking a government shipment of gold ingots - $15 million all told, being flown from Zurich to Tanzania via Italy. Propositioning failed American writer, Mike Warden, recently unemployed from his Cambridge lecturer’s post, due to his pacifist political views, Mike is lured by Pedley to Venice on the pretext that a publisher, Wells (John Le Mesurier) is interested in his novel.  Instead, Pedley has arranged for a rather brutal humiliation that drives Mike to the bottle and a ‘chance’ encounter with the luscious and leggy, Sylvia Giroux – actually, Pedley's accomplice. Together, Sylvia and Pedley convince Mike to partake of their gold heist. While Pedley orchestrates the particulars from a safe distance, retreating to London, Sylvia and Mike work out the kinks of the plan in Italy, taking refuge in an abandoned villa where, predictably, they fall in love and have sex.

Hiring nervous ex-Luftwaffe officer, Mark Dietrich (Karl-Otto Alberty) to pilot a Messerschmidt that will threaten to shoot down the British passenger plane carrying the gold, as well as ex-Fascist, Gen. Aldo Ferranti (Adolfo Celi) to smuggle and sell the ingots on the black market, Mike and Sylvia prepare for the big day. At the last possible moment, Pedley’s superior, Lord Henshaw (Ralph Richardson), orders him to accompany the shipment, along with middling executive officer, Wister (Roddy McDowell), who is slightly skeptical of Pedley’s motives.   In mid-air, the Messerschmidt attacks. Pedley instructs the pilots of the passenger plane to land at a nearby abandoned airfield where, as planned, the gold is carried away by a pair of innocuous-looking petrol trucks, driven by a trio of forgettable fops hired by Mike and Sylvia, and one mobile home, chauffeured by Mike and Sylvia themselves. Pedley, whose modus operandi for the crime is to capture Ferranti, thus proving his merits to the Queen – and therefore, guaranteed to receive the knighthood – deviously orchestrates the capture of the first two vehicles. Not long thereafter, Sylvia and Mike are arrested by Italian police at a checkpoint. Attempting escape, Pedley now thwarts even this, claiming to the authorities that both Mike and Sylvia are his undercover agents.  Mike and Pedley exchange a package of ingots in return for half the compensation Pedley will likely receive from the insurance company. Hailed as a hero by Lord Henshaw, Pedley is fast-tracked for the knighthood. As he prepares to receive his just rewards, Sylvia and Mike announce their plans to marry.  

Midas Run is a disastrously ineffectual entertainment. The cavalcade of stars herein emerges as a waxwork that simply never click as they ought, to add spark or chemistry and sell this misadventure as fabulous farce or fun-filled fantasy.  Anne Heywood is lovely, but wooden; her performance, towering above Richard Crenna’s unremarkable stick of kindling. Crenna has neither the sex appeal nor rugged animal magnetism to carry this one off. Astaire’s Leprechaun-ish Pedley is the lithest of the lot. But even Astaire is relying more on his built-in decades of charm as the grand old man of the dance, whom we sort-of expect to see doing a supple soft shoe down Abbey Road, yet whose jaunty strut, even as he crosses the street, using his folded umbrella as a crossing-guard’s stick, will surely stir the memory sufficiently for many. And while the movie employs other great stars, it rarely gives any of them the opportunity to shine, applying the Michael Todd ‘cameo’ approach to casting, although with none of Todd’s ‘who’s who’ finesse to exact a quaint and fuzzy feel-good for the exercise itself. In the last analysis, Midas Run never crosses the finish line in either its presumed high stakes thrills or middling comedy respites. It simply fails to attain any sort of lasting appeal once the house lights have come up and falls fruitlessly flat on its celebrated assets.

Kino Lorber’s custodianship of ABC’s forgotten follies has yielded a competent Blu-ray, derived from a 4K source, no less. The 1080p image has an appropriately grainy and slightly dated look. Overall, color fidelity is quite good, with minor fading, intermittently scattered throughout. Contrast is a little weak. But close-ups reveal an impressive amount of fine detail. Flesh tones tend to lean, just a tad, toward the overly pinkish hue. Nothing egregious. A few of the establishing shots look rough – as though either to have been excised from ABC’s stock library before being inserted into this movie, heavy grain and a barrage of age-related artifacts. Otherwise, those interested in collecting this clunker will find very little to complain about here. The 2.0 DTS audio is weak, with music cues amplified, but dialogue sounding tinny, and, mostly inaudible without bumping up the volume considerably. Historians, Lee Gambin and Emma Westwood chime in on a veritable potpourri of factoid info in their winning audio commentary that is far better than the movie. We also get several trailers for other Kino Lorber product. Bottom line: Midas Run is such a colossally disheartening claptrap of missed opportunities I cannot imagine anyone eager to collect it on Blu-ray, despite the fact, this 1080p offering is pretty solid and worth your coin – at least, from a technical standpoint. Regrets.

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

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VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

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