THE BERMUDA DEPTHS: Blu-ray (Rank/Bass, 1978) Warner Archive

A boy, played with doleful consternation by Leigh McCloskey, a near mute girl, ineffectually realized by one-time ‘was-been’ Connie Selleca, and, a painfully over-the-top performance by Carl Weathers, prolong the melodramatic agony in director, Tom Kotani’s The Bermuda Depths (1978) – a lavishly photographed made-for-television programmer about a guy, a girl and really big sea turtle. In this fractured fairy-tale scripted by William Overguard, McCloskey is Magnus Dens, the strong and mostly silent type of blonde bo-hunk with no apparent life calling. Despite a prologue to suggest Magnus’ childhood was idyllic, his life as a young man has been anything but, haunted by memories of Jenny Haniver (Selleca), the girl who, after witnessing the birth of a baby tortoise along with her childhood playmate, apparently swam out to sea dangling from its fin, never to be heard from again. Before this anti-climactic departure, Jenny helped to carve their initials on the floating reptile’s shell. Alas, and despite these many years to have since cleaved the optimism of childhood from a young man’s loneliness in the present day, Jenny has never been very far from Magnus’ heart. And thus, an unearthly bond stretching to the very depths of the Bermudian sea – and beyond – continues to prevent Magnus from entirely growing up.

The Bermuda Depths is such a woefully undernourished drama, clumsily hewn from folklore and the ambitions of its co-writer/producer, Arthur Rankin Jr. (whose stop-motion animated Christmas classics, Rudolph The Red-nosed Reindeer, Frosty’s Winter Wonderland, The Year Without Santa Claus, and, T’was The Night Before Christmas have remained inviolate rites of passage in our annual television viewing) the story, meant to be serious and mystical, instead evolves into silly sci-fi of the ‘Journey to the Bottom of the Sea’ ilk, if never entirely to satisfy its aspirations as a fantastic love story. Magnus, may very well have been bewitched by a mermaid from long ago. But Sellica’s brutally bad performance makes us sincerely wonder whether she captivated Magnus or merely bored him to sleep. Evidently, a major selling feature for Rankin was to shoot the picture in Bermuda. Indeed, he became so enamored with the location, Rankin relocated there after filming was completed and remained a resident of its sunny shores until his death in 2014. After the demise of Rankin/Bass, much of the company’s holdings fell to Warner Bros. who have remained the custodians ever since. But Warner also has some very fine television properties, either home-grown or acquired from the Lorimar Pictures library. Aside from such primetime programming as The Dukes of Hazzard, Dallas, Falcon Crest, and, Knots Landing, I would sooner have seen the studio tackle a Blu-ray release of, say, The Thorn Birds (1983) or John Jakes’ North and South (1985-94) than The Bermuda Depths – a contagiously disposable nothing to have quickly faded into obscurity, and only more recently acquired its odd ‘cult’ following.

Co-produced with Japanese/American investment, of which Rankin and his partner, Jules Bass straddled a curious chasm with their own company, Rankin/Bass, having perfected the ‘animagic’ stop-motion process, with visual effects and other creature elements handled by Tsuburaya Productions, previously featured in their wildly popular, Ultraman serial. The Bermuda Depths was given a theatrical release in Japan, but only a ‘movie of the week’s consideration in the U.S. Frankly, that is about all it deserves. By the time The Bermuda Depths found its way to NBC, Rankin/Bass was, in fact, already winding down its lucrative business. Ostensibly, it had been a good run, begun in 1960, with its patented stop-motion process created by animator, Tadahito Mochinaga, and farming out hand-drawn animated features to several other studios, including Eiken, Mushi, Toei and Topcraft. Rankin/Bass’ early sound recordings were otherwise recorded in Toronto, Canada under the supervision of CBC announcer, Bernard Cowan, with Maury Laws as their musical director, and, Romeo Muller, the sole screenwriter, responsible for Rudolph, Frosty, and, The Little Drummer Boy. The company eventually became known for this Christmas fare, instant classics of our collective imagination.

Were that The Bermuda Depths had even half the spark of originality – or life, for that matter -these animated specials possessed in spades. Evidently, teaching real-life aspiring actors to emote on the screen was more of a challenge than breathing genuine heart and soul into the puppetry to populate these hearty holiday specials.  Leigh McCloskey’s participation herein belies the fact he was classically trained for better work at Julliard. Alas, almost immediately upon graduation, the lanky 6 ft. 4-inch moon-doggy Adonis would come up decidedly short as a gristmill fav on TV, appearing in several nighttime series before landing a reoccurring role as Lucy Ewing’s hubby, Mitch, on Dallas from 1980 to 1982, and later to crop up intermittently in the series between 1985 and 1988. From this inauspicious start, McCloskey found work as a daytime heartthrob on various soap operas. And if all this makes McCloskey’s tenure in Hollywood sound like a road company Rock Hudson for hire, his efforts appear almost Shakespearean when compared to those of his two co-stars. Connie Sellecca, for one, never made it out of Tinsel Town alive. An ex-lingerie/fashion model, pitching Pantene shampoo sexy, Selleca seemed poised for stardom as the gal/pal in TV’s short-lived, but memorable, The Greatest American Hero (1981), then, as an employee of Arthur Hailey’s Hotel (1983). In a wiser executive move, Sellica wed square-jawed, one-time Entertainment Tonight cohost, John Tesh in 1992 – a union to endure to this day.  Completing the triumvirate of mediocrity: Carl Weathers, whose undeniable screen legacy remains his Apollo Creed in 1976’s sleeper hit, Rocky – a role reprised in 3 more installments of that film franchise. Tragically, outside the ring, Weathers had grave difficulty making his acting chops stick, even as an action star. Thus, his aspirations to become a ‘serious actor’ eventually took a backseat to his alliance with Big Brothers Association and the U.S. Olympic Committee, managing the career of athletes in gymnastics, wrestling, swimming and judo.

Looking back on The Bermuda Depths it is easy to see why none of the aforementioned ever went on to have long-lasting careers. Each lacks the intangible flint of genuine staying power to outshine their surroundings. A good story with bad acting might have survived such a savaging critique. But William Overguard’s fantastic plastic, turtle tall tale is about as dull and dim-witted as made-for-TV movies get. Poster art infers a harrowing adventure akin to Jaws (1975). What we get instead is an unprepossessing ‘monster flick’ whose focus suddenly shifts from horror into a buddy/buddy narrative gone bad, then stale, and, to conclude on a note of highly cryptic tragedy, meant to leave the audience questioning all that has gone before this ‘big reveal’.  We begin on a picturesque Bermuda beach. Magnus, asleep and quite unaware of his surroundings, is approached by Jennie Haniver, rising like Venus from the sea.  In his dreams, Magnus recalls watching a baby turtle egg hatch with his friend, Jennie.  The timeline advances several years. Magnus carves their initials into the turtle’s shell as Jennie strings together a cowrie shell necklace for her childhood sweetheart. As a boy, Magnus observed Jennie ride the turtle out to sea, disappearing beneath the waves. Now, Magnus’ nocturnal fantasy turns into a nightmare. He relives the destruction of the seaside villa he shared with his late father, destroyed during a hellish storm.

Awakening alone on the beach, Magnus now ventures to the dockside abode of his good friend, Eric (Carl Weathers). In short order, Magnus learns, in his absence, Eric has wed Doshan (Julia Woodson), and is, at present, completing his Master’s Degree in marine biology under the tutelage of Dr. Paulis (Burl Ives). Accompanying Eric and Paulis on a seemingly routine sailing expedition, their boat is rocked by an unseen force, tearing a very large hole in their nets. That evening, the men regale Doshan with their harrowing afternoon. Magnus takes particular notice of the cowrie necklace Paulis’ hired cook, Delia (Ruth Attaway) wears.  Magnus departs Paulis’ home and is compelled to follow a shadowy figure into the sea. He is spared from drowning and revived by a woman who identifies herself as Jennie Haniver before vanishing beneath the waves. Alas, Magnus’ description of this mystery lady is dismissed by Paulis who informs him ‘Jennie Haniver’ is a name given to the sea creature from local folklore. Later, Delia regales Mangus with the actual legend. Jennie Haniver was a stunningly handsome woman who bartered with the god of the sea to save her from certain drowning during a hurricane. Granted eternal life, she was nevertheless doomed to remain a sea creature, incapable of ever living on land again.  The next morning, Eric is brought in by the police to offer his expertise regarding enormous tracks found on the beach. Meanwhile, Magnus recognizes the adult Jennie as his childhood playmate and takes her to the abandoned remains of his late father’s house. Sometime later, Eric calls Magnus to attend Paulis on his boat. The men encounter the mysterious sea creature and Magnus prods Paulis to discuss his father’s death.

Paulis reluctantly reveals Lionel was conducting experiments on mutant sea life, apparently to have rebelled and devoured him. Magnus recalls the turtle from his childhood, the one he carved his initials into, for himself and Jennie and is later awakens by Eric and Dr. Paulis arguing over the use of a harpoon-firing bazooka. Eric attempts to use the harpoon on the mysterious creature lurking just beneath the waves whom he cannot quite make out. Now, Eric and Magnus resume their trawling. Only, their line snags the turtle. Eric blasts the reptile with his harpoon. Jennie, who has somehow managed to come aboard, pleads with Magnus to free the turtle. At Doshan's insistence, Paulis attempts to intercept their boat by helicopter. Instead, the turtle lurches from the sea, crashing the helicopter. Now, Eric is confronted by Jennie whose eyes begin to glow an ominous green.  The turtle destroys the boat and Magnus climbs into an inflatable raft. He is unable to save Eric. Tangled in the lines, Eric is dragged under by the turtle. Now, Jennie finds an unconscious Magnus lying on the beach. Affectionately, she kisses him, returning to the sea for the last time. Doshan and Magnus reunite at Eric’s grave where Magnus informs Doshan he will be leaving Bermuda shortly, unaware of a statue nearby, dedicated to ‘Jennie Haniver, 1701- , Lost at Sea.’ Aboard the ferry pulling out of harbor, Magnus casts the necklace Jennie made for him into the sea. As it slips beneath the waves, we pull in on a close-up of the turtle with Magnus’ initials still carved into its shell.

The Bermuda Depths is a thoroughly waterlogged and ponderous tale of lost love.  Outside of Jeri Sopanen’s sumptuous cinematography, there is very little here to recommend. The acting is anemic to nonexistent and the plot meanders from one pointless vignette to the next, incapable of generating even the cheapest thrills as an enigma wrapped inside a sci-fi yarn, tinged in a sprinkle of the supernatural. The Warner Archive has remastered The Bermuda Depths to perfection – not once, but twice, in its original 1.33:1 broadcast ratio, and, as an open matte in 1.78:1 widescreen. Image quality on either incarnation is superb, with minute detail and razor-sharp clarity abounding. Colors are fully saturated, showing off Sopanen’s visuals to their very best effect. Contrast is exquisite and a light smattering of film grain appears very indigenous to its source. Age-related artifacts have been eradicated. Truly – nothing to complain about here. The 1.0 DTS mono audio is adequate for this presentation. There are NO extras. Bottom line: The Bermuda Depths is an hour and thirty-six minutes of my life I can never get back. I cannot even rightfully suggest it for nostalgia’s sake. WAC gets top marks for their due diligence in remastering original elements in hi-def. But honestly, their television holdings, like their film archives, are an embarrassment of riches far more worthy of the honor and care paid this disposable little nothing. Pass, and be very glad that you did!

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

1

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

0