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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