HARUM SCARUM: Blu-ray (MGM, 1965) Warner Archive

The woeful and pathetic denigration of Elvis Presley is ripe with the stench of formaldehyde in director, Gene Nelson’s glib and gauche Harum Scarum (1965) – a thinly veiled reboot of Valentino’s The Sheik (1921) with all of its eroticism, fire and sex appeal left on the cutting room floor. Seeing Presley masquerading as an Arab with interminable tedium is about as appealing as singing 'Sweet Adeline' with one’s own drunken mother. This one was shot on the antiseptic Paramount backlots where De Mille once lensed his silent classic, The King of Kings (1927) with some additional footage on location at the Iverson Movie Ranch in Chatsworth, Los Angeles. You can hide a lot of sins in B&W. Not so much in anamorphic/color. Eight disposable ditties are shoehorned into Harum Scarum. But are any of them memorable – even for the bobbysocks hit parade? And Presley rattles off the album, merely to divert attentions from the fact Gerald Drayson Adams’ screenplay is a lethal retread of escapist nonsense. By the mid-sixties, it was pretty obvious Elvis’ future in the movies was designed to fatten the pockets of his wrangler, Col. Tom Parker – and, artistic sentiment or even Presley’s own ambitions to be great, be damned.

Gone are the top-tier leading ladies like Ann-Margaret (Viva Las Vegas) and Barbara Stanwyck (Roustabout) that at least provided camouflage and ground cover for the clumsily stitched together machinations in those movies. After their exit, came an endless spate of disposable fluff, sewn into sequins or poured into polyester, so feather-weight, as to make cotton candy blush; everything, capped by a scrubbed and tubbed Elvis, shorn of his hip-swiveling sexuality, occasionally to sport more Aquanet and mascara than his leading ladies. Presley was, understandably, not pleased by this turn of events. However, contractually obligated, he gave Parker and the studios what they wanted. Intermittently, however, Presley’s displeasure became transparent on the screen. And hence, the tensions between Presley and Parker grew, as did Presley’s girth of self-loathing, to manifest in his over-indulgences with food, alcohol and later, drugs.

Plotwise, Harum Scarum has Elvis playing action movie star, Johnny Tyronne, famed for his karate chop. This, apparently, can disable any man in seconds. Touring the Middle East to promote his latest flick, Johnny is naively seduced by Aishah (Fran Jeffries) – a vamp, who sets him up to be abducted by Sinan (Theo Marcuse), head of an assassins’ ring, tasked with murdering King Toranshah (Philip Reed). It’s either that or Johnny’s life. A momentary reprieve: Johnny is liberated by Zacha (Jay Novello) – a Robin-Hood-esque figure, though not above re-selling him into bondage to Sinan. Whatever! Predictably, Johnny falls for Shalimar (Mary Ann Mobley) whom he assumes to be a slave girl. In reality, (wait for it), Shalamar is Toranshah’s daughter. Confiding in Shalimar, the revelation of Johnny’s truer purpose causes her to bolt into the night. Aishah forces Johnny’s hand. So, he makes ready to assassinate the king. Instead, Johnny and Zacha’s men are ambushed by Shalimar, corralled and sentenced to death. Mercy follows in the form of Baba (the ever-reliable ‘little person’, Billy Barty).

So, Johnny breaks into the king’s private quarters to plead his case and expose Sinan. He also confesses a deep and undying love for Shalimar. Toranshah’s heart softens. He provides cover for Johnny to infiltrate Sinan’s den, learning the real usurper is none other than Toranshah’s bitter brother, Prince Dragna (Michael Ansara). Though Johnny is successful at taking Sinan his prisoner, he also learns too late Dragna has placed the entire town under his forced command. What to do? Johnny, Toranshah, Shalimar, and, a recalcitrant Zacha ward off Dragna’s army. Driving Dragna’s forces into submission, a benevolent Toranshah resists the urge to put his wayward brother to death. Instead, he banishes Dragna from his kingdom forever. Johnny professes his love to Shalamar. Predictably, they wed and decide to honeymoon in Vegas.

Harum Scarum is such an artistically bereft affair, it begs the query as to how much Elvis was willing to tolerate to satisfy Parker’s greed. A bad movie is a bad movie. But Presley’s acquiescence to perform like a trained seal has led to a performance that is especially leaden.  Yet, it is all too easy, and misguided, to think of Elvis’ as the victim here. His lack of contribution, either as placation to Parker’s aspirations ahead of his own, or to deliberately tank Parker’s influence by making a picture destined to lose money, simply to prove a point, makes very little sense. Elvis just doesn’t care here, one way or the other…and it shows. If Gerald Drayson Adams’ screenplay is awash in cliché, stereotypes and silliness (and it certainly is!), all this pales to Presley’s monumental apathy to do anything beyond showing up in the make-up chair, thereafter to appear before the cameras as nothing more animated than a Disneyland E-ticket, animatronic, fit to be pelted with stale popcorn from the cheap seats. It’s painful to watch ‘this’ Elvis give as little as 10% of his formidable talents to this meandering and moronic mangle. Mary Ann Mobley, likewise, is an elegant waxworks; pretty - but pretty dull to boot. We’ll lean in Mobley’s favor. She isn’t exactly working with Oscar-nominated material to challenge whatever acting potential she may possess. Yet, like her co-star, she is not all that ambitious to try and ply this dreck with her actor’s finesse. Did we mention eight wasted opportunities for Elvis to do what, arguably, he ought to have done best – sing?!?  Fred Karger’s tunes have zero staying power and are among the worst to be had in any Elvis pic, with only the slight ‘Harum Holiday’ lingering in very distant memory. Fred Jackman Jr.’s cinematography is colorful, yet flat, and, lit with all the exoticism of an ‘I Love Lucy’ Goes to Egypt TV special.  Not much else to go on. Harum Scarum is a ‘Moron, Don’t Adore-um’ – even for Elvis fans.

Warner Archive’s new-to-Blu delivers the goods in 1.85:1 Metrocolor. A handful of shots look soft-ish. In fact, there are several that suffer a built-in anomaly – two characters in a single frame, but only one in focus. Overall, the image here is pleasing enough. Colors pop and contrast could not be better. Fine detail abounds.  This is Elvis singing in glorious 2.0 mono. Really?!? There were no stereo masters of the songs that could have been dumped in for this Blu release? Odd too, Jay Novello’s performance appears to have been post-synched in its entirety. This does not blend well into the remainder of the track. WAC gives us two Tom and Jerry shorts. There’s also a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Harum Scarum is so tastelessly dumb it really should not have been up for consideration as anything better than a relic to be left buried with the past. Pass – and be very glad that you did.

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

0

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

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