THE FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1965) Criterion
Box office bombs rarely get the
opportunity to be reassessed as bona fide classics. And to be sure, when it was
released, director, Robert Aldrich’s costly survival/action/adventure, The
Flight of the Phoenix (1965) was savaged by some critics as ‘grim’ and ‘implausible’
while praised by others. Audiences, alas, were indifferent, the picture barely
earning $4,855,000. It needed to make at least $10,800,000 just to break even
on the ledgers of 2oth Century-Fox. So, a thud it distinctly made. Ah, but
Aldrich would have the last laugh, having preceded the renaissance of all of those
‘classic’ disaster epics from the early 1970’s that would eventually earn
producer, Erwin Allen the moniker ‘master of disaster’. Aldrich had had the
foresight to take his all-star cast into some very bleak survivalist method
acting with his own classy affair, set presumably in the Sahara Desert. Actually,
cast and crew never left the United States, with locations near Yuma and
Buttercup Valley in Arizona, and Pilot Knob Mesa in California’s Imperial
Valley subbing in for the inhospitable African landscape – a reasonable facsimile.
What separates Aldrich’s uber-tragedy
from those soon to follow it is screenwriter, Lukas Heller’s telescopic focus
on character development. Based on Elleston Trevor’s page-turner of the same
name, Aldrich’s Flight of the Phoenix ratchets up the entertainment
value with a sublime and motley crew of desperate people trapped under the sun’s
anvil, some destined to come to no good, while others will never make it out
alive. A weather-beaten James Stewart headlines as curmudgeonly Capt. Frank
Towns. Remarkably, Towns is not the hero of this piece. It’s Stewart’s
formidable drawing power and screen legacy that helps soften the blow of
watching him play Towns as an unrepentant, oft’ vial individual, with little
foresight and zero ability to salvage the predicament into which he alone has inadvertently
plunged this troop of survivors. We don’t entirely buy it, not because Stewart
isn’t acting the hell out of the part, but because it’s James Stewart – repeatedly
lionized during his classic period in Hollywood as the all-American congenial
everyman.
The Flight of
the Phoenix is exceptionally cast: stately and dignified Richard Attenborough as the
slightly gone to seed, Lew Moran, stalwart Peter Finch (Capt. Harris) as a
self-aggrandizing would-be savior, impenetrable and cocky Hardy Krüger
(Heinrich Dorfmann) boorish Ernest Borgnine (Trucker Cobb), prankster, Ian
Bannen (Ratbags Crow), Ronald Fraser (Sergeant Watson), Christian Marquand, (Dr.
Reynolds), Dan Duryea (against type as the shy Stanish) and George Kennedy
(Mike Bellamy). Bannen would, in fact, win the Best Supporting Actor’s Oscar,
one of two afforded the movie (the other, to Michael Luciano’s editing). Tragedy
struck the production when aerial expert, Paul Manz, filling in for his
partner, Frank Tallman (who had injured his leg) was killed while flying his
Tallmantz Phoenix P-1. Performing a touch-and-go landing for the camera, Mantz’s
fuselage suddenly buckled, breaking apart and cartwheeling, crushing Mantz and
seriously injuring stuntman, Bobby Rose. Aldrich would later insist on a
postscript credit that read, “It should be remembered... that Paul Mantz, a
fine man and a brilliant flyer, gave his life in the making of this film...”
Our story concerns Frank Towns, piloting
a twin-engine Fairchild C-82 Packet cargo plane from Jaghbub to Benghazi in Libya
with Lew Moran as his navigator. On this voyage of the damned, Towns’ passenger
list includes Brit military, Capt. Harris and Sgt. Watson; French physician, Dr.
Renaud; German aeronautics engineer, Heinrich Dorfmann, and, an oil company
accountant, Standish along with several workers: emotionally unstable foreman, Trucker
Cobb, self-satisfied Scot, Ratbags Crow, Carlos (Alex Montoya), accompanied by
his pet monkey, and, Gabriel Scanadi (Gabriele Tinti). The flight is routine…that
is, until a violent sandstorm disables both engines in mid-air, forcing Towns
into a crash landing in the middle of nowhere. Gabriel’s leg is badly injured
in the fall. Having veered wildly off course into uncharted territory with no
radio contact possible, Towns and his survivors are left with several crates of
dates, but only fifteen days water rations on which to survive. Recognizing their
peril, Harris sets out on foot, in the hopes of discovering a nearby oasis. Alas,
Sgt. Watson, a bit of a coward, feigns an ankle injury to remain behind. Later,
he will suffer a brief water-deprived hallucination, dreaming of Barrie Chase, appearing
as an Arab exotic dancer. In Watson’s stead, Carlos volunteers to accompany
Harris, leaving his pet monkey in Crow’s care. Harris and Towns refuse to allow
Cobb to go along. Indeed, he is unfit for the travel.
Nevertheless, Cobb stubbornly escapes,
making his pilgrimage on foot, but later dies from exposure in the desert. Hours
turn into days and Town fears the worst. But then, Harris, the lone survivor, suddenly
materializes like a spec on the sand, parched from his sojourn and barely alive,
gesturing to Watson, who blatantly ignores him. Mercifully, Harris is
discovered by the others in short order. Recognizing their suit as hopeless, Dorfmann
proposes to build a prototype aircraft from the wreckage, discarding its
ravaged fuselage, allowing everyone to ride on the new plane’s wings. Harris and Moran discount the concept,
believing sunstroke has gone to Dorfmann’s mind. And Towns, unable to perceive this
engineering marvel on his own terms, fights with Dorfmann, the young buck and
new breed of engineer. Moran is barely able to maintain civility between them.
Eventually, Renaud sways Towns’ opinion, suggesting that, at the very least,
the sustained activity will keep the men’s minds active and instill a sense of
hope in this otherwise hopeless scenario. Dorfmann is placed in charge of the
rebuild. But during the work, Gabriel commits suicide. Meanwhile, Dorfmann is caught exceeding his
daily water ration but justifies his greed by suggesting he is the only one who
has been working around the clock for their salvation. Standish rechristens their
prototype ‘the phoenix’ after the mythical bird risen from its own ashes.
Discovering a tribal band of Arabs nearby,
Harris and Renaud depart to make contact but are later discovered, murdered in
the desert. Even more disturbing for Towns and Moran is their learning Dorfmann
is a designer of model airplanes, not full-sized aircraft. Dorfmann defends
himself, claiming aerodynamic principles are the same, regardless of the size
of the model. With no alternatives, Towns and Moran proceed to complete the
plane, keeping Dorfmann’s real profession a quiet secret from the others, lest
they lose faith in him and the project. At the end of construction, Towns
acknowledges only 7 starter cartridges to get the Phoenix off the ground. The
first 4 miserably misfire. Despite Dorfmann’s vigorous doubts, Towns fires the 5th
cartridge with the ignition turned off to clear the engine’s cylinders. With
only 2 cartridges left, the Phoenix’s sixth attempt proves successful. The men drag
what’s left of their plane to a nearby hilltop and climb onto its wings. Now,
the Phoenix slides down the hill and over a lake bed, but manages to become
airborne. After a successful landing at an oasis with a manned oil rig, the
survivors give thanks. Towns and Dorfmann are reconciled.
The Flight of
the Phoenix is a daring adventure yarn, only occasionally to falter in its middle
act as our survivors make valiant, but futile attempts to find their way out of
the desert. A few of these dialogue-driven sequences undeniably drag. Nevertheless,
Aldrich resists the urge to go for those 2-second shock value moments that
might have typified a more amateur approach to the material, jolting audiences
from their chairs, but afterward to leave no lasting impression. Instead, Aldrich
builds upon the desperation and futility of these men trapped in the stark and
uncompromising desert heat. Some of the incidents that befall our crew are
dealt with rather mysteriously, especially the discovery of the Arab caravan
and later ‘big reveal’ of Harris and Renaud’s bodies. Clearly, each has met
with a terrible fate. But did the Arabs murder them, or did they suddenly
suffer from some sort of sun-beaten hallucination and kill each other in a feeble
attempt at self-defense? Also, Harris’ earlier renegade attempt at faux
bravery, to find an oasis, is a bit of a folly and a MacGuffin, as it comes without
any reprisals for the cowardly, but then menacing Watson, who, presumably, was willing
to let his fellow officer die alone in the desert. Where Aldrich’s picture
monumentally succeeds is in the movie’s penultimate rescue attempt – the seemingly
ill-planned, but nail-biting trials to fire the Phoenix’s engine, as well as
the harrowing final flight to relative safety, are exhilarating beyond
expectation. The other tour de force bookends the picture: the crash landing,
expertly stitched together from full-scale replicas in rear projection,
miniature models in long shots, and, then, state of the art special effects to simulate
a violent sandstorm and crash dive.
Frank Towns has to be one of James
Stewart’s most vial screen creations – a chance for Stewart to step outside of
his ‘everyman’ image and portray a real bastard. And Towns is simply that, a repugnant
and obstinate man without any redeeming qualities other than what our
preconceived notions about James Stewart – the actor, brings to this character.
Hardy Kruger’s academic Heinrich Dorfmann, full of himself, but able to make
good on his ego, is the other standout performance. A close third, is Richard Attenborough’s expertly
evolved, if chronically inebriated peacemaker. Apparently, blessed are the meek
and the drunk. The rest of the cast are given mere moments in which to shine.
Peter Finch distinguishes himself with little to say or do, and Ernest Borgnine’s
Trucker is an empathetic loose cannon. Interesting that of all these performances,
AMPAS singled out Ian Bannen’s quipster, Crow for the Oscar nod. He’s good. But
I think Kruger had the better hand for real/reel consideration here. In the
final analysis, The Flight of the Phoenix is an oft absorbing movie, teeming
in quality character parts. Those anticipating an action-packed, SFX-laden
spectacle of the latter-age seventies’ vintage in disaster epics should seek
their cheap thrills elsewhere. The Flight of the Phoenix hails from a
dying epoch, establishing good solid characters over go-for-the-jugular crass
commercialism. Aldrich was an expert at this sort of storytelling. So, permit
us to worship.
The Flight of
the Phoenix arrives on Blu-ray via Criterion in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. With
a 1080p transfer on loan for the now defunct 2oth Century-Fox, the image here
has been culled from a new 2K scan of the OCN. It’s crisp and spotless, though curiously, the
first half of the movie supports a subtly desaturated color palette. Several years ago, Eureka! Home Entertainment released their own Blu-ray with a starkly different color palette, favoring the warm and sunburnt hues of the desert. Criterion's disc leans to a much cooler palette and deprives us of that golden sand. Never having seen The Flight of the Phoenix theatrically, I am unable to quantify which home video reincarnation best recaptures the original theatrical presentation of the film. To be clear, there is no blue or teal bias on this disc that afflicted a good many hi-def presentations of Fox's stellar back catalog. But the image is decidedly skewing towards a much cooler palette then perhaps even I anticipated. It just looks slightly off, perhaps tweaked or reimagined, and, decidedly untrue to this vintage in picture-making. Skin tones on the Criterion reveal the expert
make-up applications designed to appropriately weather the cast as their hours
in the desert turn into hellish days, presumably spent baking in the sun. Contrast
is excellent throughout, and black levels, especially during scenes shot at
night, are very impressive with zero crush. Criterion goes for their usual LCPM
1.0 mono mix. Dialogue and effects have been expertly mixed, along with Frank
De Vol’s memorable score. Fattening out the extras, a conversation between Alain
Silver and director, Walter Hill on Bob Aldrich’s career, with specific
attention paid deconstructing the power and glory of this movie. We also get
Donald Dewey, James Stewart’s biographer, discussion Stewart’s highly decorated
military service and its influence on his performance in this movie. Both
featurettes run just under 20-minutes. There’s a theatrical trailer, a
cardboard model of the Phoenix, and a critical essay by Gina Telaroli to round
out the extras. Bottom line: 57-years on, and despite its deplorable 2004
remake, The Flight of the Phoenix remains an accomplished and daring survival
disaster epic. The Blu-ray, while strangely not perfect, is better than
expected and rightfully deserves a place on every collector’s shelf. Bottom
line: highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
3.5
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