THE AFRICAN QUEEN: 4K UHD Blu-ray combo (Horizon/Romulus, 1951) StudioCanal

Fearlessly directed by master craftsman, John Huston, The African Queen (1951) is, at once, an exemplar of the classical Hollywood narrative, and a total departure from the time-honored edict that movies are best served within the confines of a studio backlot and sound stage. Based on the 1935 novel by C.S. Forester, the screenplay by James Agee manages to capture all the harrowing exuberance and spirit of its source material - despite constant meddling from the Production Code of Censorship. In more recent times, Huston’s masterpiece has fallen under far more critical scrutiny, perhaps because it hardly seems like Huston could have directed it, or Bogart – the tough guy, with or without his gun – to have delivered such an empathetic and gently comedic performance where he all but shreds his trademarked insolence, playing the bemused fop to co-star, Kate Hepburn’s thoroughly ‘stimulated’ popinjay, intoxicated on the self-importance of her missionary work.

The African Queen is unlike anything else these two titans of the screen had ever done, each stepping beyond their comfort zone and Teflon-coated iconography. In more recent times, this is what has come to be known as ‘expanding one’s acting range’. The folly of such experimentation is easy to spot when talent is lacking. In the case of Bogie and Hepburn however, there is no cause for concern. By 1951, each was beloved and well-seasoned, accomplished and comfortable within themselves to take the gamble on, and, seriously to see it through to success. Does it work? And how! You have to be as good, if not better than Bogart and Hepburn at the top of their respective careers, to pull off such a coup. Interesting to think of this movie falling between the apex of Hepburn’s teaming with co-star Spencer Tracy for their penultimate battle of the sexes’ rom/com, Adam’s Rib (1949), and its farewell address in Pat and Mike (1952). Hepburn’s career would, of course, continue to mature, evolve and enrich movies screens for another 3 decades. We would lose Bogart much too soon in 1957 to cancer, though not before he illustrated several examples as to why his reputation as a consummate Hollywood star would endure; 1954’s Sabrina, The Caine Mutiny, and 1955’s The Desperate Hours among the lot.  

Assuming many perils along the way, not the least of which was an utter lack of faith from his financiers, John Huston set off on his ambitious sojourn to conquer the wilds of Africa. In any other era, he might have turned to the patronage of kings to bankroll such an expedition. Huston, alas, had to appease the Hollywood establishment to get the cash. Indeed, Huston was happiest, farthest from the studios. Too late to ‘discover’ the world, he settled for reinventing it through the eye of his camera, digging passionately into the particulars of the exercise and thoroughly engrossed in bringing about ‘his’ version of history and art as he perceived them to intermingle.

Unquestionably, there remains a certain je ne sais quoi to Huston’s humanist approach, using Hepburn’s stalwart Rose Sayer as his sounding board for a critique of religious futility. Not man – nor woman – shall conquer nature through God, as Huston has incisively argued divine intervention already at play in the placement of these natural obstacles by which Capt. Allnut is forced to maneuver not only his vessel but also his patience and unanticipated growing affections for this caustic middle-aged proselytizer. By all accounts, Rose Sayer might just as well have been ‘born again’ or reincarnated as the silly little ingénue, unknowing of the world she has great plans to reform. And Hepburn is magnificent as this blind-sided grand dame who has adopted sternness – at first – to cope in the presence of any man not her brother, and under the watchful eyes and ears of the Almighty she reverently serves, though perhaps, questioningly fears.

Making a movie most anywhere in the world today is generally considered a luxury. But in Huston’s time, setting out for the uncivilized ‘dark continent’ was not looked upon as gutsy, rather foolhardy. Huston could find no backers to fund his ‘dream project’ in Technicolor half way around the world. Bankers balked at the logistical nightmares, including delays brought on by the inherent dangers of sickness, injuries, and, volatile weather conditions. However, Huston’s luck was to change as the newly formed/London-based Romulus Productions, eager to lure Hollywood talent overseas, agreed to put up the necessary funds. Consisting of five cars and trucks, Huston’s entourage would make their pilgrimage up a remote mud road and through a jungle-infested pass; 3.5 miles from Biondo to the Ruiki River, only then, loading every last necessity – and a few minor extravagances – aboard ‘The African Queen’ (actually, the L.S. Livingston, a steamer built in 1912 and used by the British East Africa Company for more than 40 years to shuttle passengers and cargo across Lake Albert on the border between Uganda and Belgian Congo).

Huston and Spiegel ‘discovered’ the Ruiki, an inky black tributary to the Lualaba, riddled in mystery and decaying vegetation, after logging more than 25,000 miles during their scouting expedition. In fact, the location was so remote, it did not even appear in most atlases. During filming ‘the Queen’ actually sank – twice – and had to be raised. Huston elected to periodically go off on a hunting expedition during this ‘down time’ and, by one account, narrowly escaped being gored by a rhino. “John wanted to bag an elephant,” Lauren Bacall would later account, “He was absolutely convinced of his own supremacy as the great white hunter.” By 1951, Huston and Bogart were not only good friends but great drinking buddies, a past time of which the tea-toddling Hepburn did not approve. Understandable perhaps, since she had coped enough with her paramour, Spencer Tracy’s frequent bouts of alcoholism and was mildly put off by Huston and Bogart’s vast consumption of imported Scotch whiskey. Exercising her disgust for booze, Hepburn refused to drink anything except plain water, a decision ultimately to afflict her with a virulent bout of dysentery. 

Huston and Bogart would remain the only two members of the crew to escape any illness. Hepburn, famously accounted her nightmarish affliction in the memoir, The Making of The African Queen or How I Went to Africa with Bogie, Bacall and Huston and Almost Lost My Mind. A bucket was placed just out of camera range to accommodate Hepburn’s frequent vomiting. Her loss of appetite equated to a rather severe weight loss. Hepburn’s newfound gauntness is evident during the early scenes shot out of sequence at the makeshift mission. Nevertheless, Hepburn’s stubborn resolve, despite a daily case of the runs, impressed even cinematographer, Jack Cardiff. She was, among her many attributes, a stiff-upper-lipped New Englander at heart and relentlessly stubborn when faced with an obstacle she refused to allow to get the better of her. Much later, Cardiff would recall one of Hepburn’s trips to the outhouse, interrupted by a black mamba waiting for her inside and causing the afflicted actress to tear off through the underbrush.

Cast and crew endured hardships in the spirit of a communal passion to achieve something greater than themselves. “John really loved the jungle,” Hepburn would recall with genuine affection, “Just loved it, God help him. He’d still be there to this day. Crazy man. Hopelessly crazy, and wonderful too.” What Huston idolized was likely the verisimilitude of shooting on location. “I wanted these characters to sweat when the script called for it,” he explained in an interview, “On a sound stage you fake it. But here you don’t have to imagine that it’s hot…it’s so hot, so humid and so wet that cigarettes turn green with mold…and clothes mildew overnight. When people sweat it isn’t with the help of a make-up man.” Bogart and Huston were very much kindred spirits. Bogart would refer to Huston as ‘unpredictable’ and ‘brilliant’; Huston, returning the compliment by suggesting of Bogart “he’s an absolute joy to work with…” While their professional relationship remained intact despite a few instances of tempers flaring, Bogart absolutely abhorred the climate in Africa. He had hoped to cut their initial ten-week shooting schedule short and was genuinely bewildered by Kate Hepburn’s ‘wallowing in this stink hole’. Yet, Hepburn found Africa ‘stimulating’ rather than stifling. The epic humidity and unspeakably primitive conditions brought out the high-spirited adventuress in her. “Kate was in her glory,” Bogart would recall, “While I was griping, she couldn't pass a fern or berry without wanting to know its pedigree, and insisted on getting the Latin name for everything she saw walking, swimming, flying or crawling.”

Hepburn was initially more skeptical about Bogart’s decision to bring along his young wife, Lauren Bacall. Like most everyone else, she had underestimated Bacall’s resolve, as well as the depth of her genuine love for Bogie. Serving in the capacity as something of den mother, hostess, cook and supervisor of their makeshift camps, Bacall garnered the respect of virtually everyone, though particularly Hepburn, who came to regard her with great affection after her quick thinking in taking along antibiotics helped to stave off a crew member’s attack of appendicitis, long enough to rush the man to the nearest hospital in Stanleyville for emergency surgery. The friendship between Bacall and Hepburn would outlast the many ordeals on this daily trial by fire. After the respective passings of Bogart and Spencer Tracy it continued to ripen.

In coaxing performances from his two stars, Huston instructed Hepburn to think of Eleanor Roosevelt putting on her ‘society smile’ under adverse conditions. “It was the best damn piece of acting advice I ever got,” Hepburn would later admit. As for Bogart, the part had originally called for the actor to sport a cockney accent. As Bogart freely admitted he could not do one, Huston had his character’s origins changed from England to Canada. But Huston was rather startled when Bogart refused to partake of a scene in which he is afflicted by leeches. Despite having hired a wrangler to manage the blood-suckers, the thought of attaching a living creature to his flesh left Bogart queasy. Thus, the scene was photographed with plastic leeches glued to Bogart’s body with an insert showing a real live leech in close-up attached to the wrangler’s chest instead.

Until very recently, the enduring myth was John Huston shot all of The African Queen on location in Africa. In reality, there were too many obstacles to make this feasible. So, Huston settled for the bulk of the footage shot in Uganda where a language barrier with the natives repeatedly resulted in miscommunication, costly delays, and one highly amusing vignette bordering on screwball comedy. Huston’s Art Director, Wilfred Shingleton had built the mission outpost with the express purpose to have it burned to the ground by the Germans. For authenticity, Huston had requested a local chieftain encourage his people to partake in the scene as background extras. Alas, on the day of the torching, not a single native was present. Lost somewhere in translation was the apparent rumor this request was a dark omen, designed to lure the natives to the set where they would be eaten by Huston and his crew, who were mis-perceived to be cannibals!

While Bogie and Hepburn actually did a great deal of their sparring against this rustic backdrop, co-star, Robert Morley (cast as Rose’s doomed brother, Rev. Samuel Sayer) never left London’s Pinewood facilities to shoot any of his scenes, his sermonizing skillfully edited with footage of the native congregation photographed back in Africa. The climactic scuttling of ‘the Queen’ and sinking of the German SMS Königin Luise was achieved using a combination of full-scale action and sizable miniatures, the scenes depicting Bogart and Hepburn waist deep among the reeds and rushes done partly on location, with close-ups shot back at Pinewood, using rear projection plates.

When production wrapped, Bogart retreated to the relative safety and comfort of the Beverly Hills Hotel for a much-needed respite in the lap of luxury. Unapologetic, he had had quite enough of remaining perpetually stubbly and sweat-soaked, sporting the same tattered clothes and careworn captain’s cap day in and day out, and, living off of baked beans and Scotch whiskey. Yet, it is one of Hollywood’s ironies, that the performance Bogart suffered through the most should also win him his only Best Actor Academy Award – and – not the only paradox to be had.  C.S. Forester’s novel, first published in 1935, had been rife for consideration in Hollywood. Yet, somehow, the project languished in turnaround, first at RKO, then later, at Warner Bros., despite such high-profile names as Charles Laughton, Leslie Howard, Bette Davis and Elsa Lanchester repeatedly considered in the title roles.

Then as now, conventional wisdom resisted telling any tale of romance – fateful, fitful or otherwise – in which the protagonists were well beyond the age of thirty (Bogart, a seasoned 53, and Hepburn, a caustic 45 at the time of filming) – Hollywood’s ageism, a chronic bias almost entirely unfounded in the audience’s immediate and overwhelmingly positive response to The African Queen upon its premiere. Nearly all of the picture’s allure can be attributed to its two iconic stars. Despite his long-standing friendship with Bogart, Huston had first approached Hepburn to star, consulting her thoughts on having Bogart as her co-star. “Can you imagine anyone but Bogie playing that part,” Hepburn would later muse, “Ridiculous! There is nobody else who could have done it. Thank God, nobody else did it!”

Yet, imagining The African Queen without Hepburn seems as ludicrous if not more. Who else but Hepburn could have pulled off such an astringent, yet inadvertently comical and ‘thrilling’ performance? In committing to the picture, Hepburn made one request of Huston to have her favorite costume designer, Doris Langley Moore create the dresses she would wear. Alas, the intense humidity and heat never allowed any of these creations to fully dry out from the day’s sweating in them, resulting in pockets of mold infiltrating the fabric. Nevertheless, determined to look her best, Hepburn dragged a full-length mirror around to the various locations where the day’s shooting would take place. When the mirror accidentally cracked in half, an undaunted Hepburn simply continued to drag both halves with her. Huston, mildly amused by Hepburn’s stubbornness, and well aware she objected to the consumption of alcohol, made it a point of exaggerating his own intake, encouraging Bogart to follow suit in order to stir Hepburn’s ire to a critical breaking point. Hepburn endured this ribbing, eventually coming to regard it in the friendly spirit for which she had so obviously been had.

As early as 1947, Huston had expressed his interest to make The African Queen with his producing partner, Sam Spiegel for Horizon Pictures. Huston had already brought writer, and good friend, James Agee, whom he regarded as “sensitive and perceptive” to help brainstorm script ideas. Agee’s participation was cut short when the aspiring screenwriter suffered a severe heart attack that effectively forced him to retire from the fray. While Warner Bros. (then owning the rights to the novel) were willing to sell the property to Huston and Spiegel outright, the asking price of $50,000 was beyond their grasp. However, Spiegel’s quick thinking resulted in a partnership with Sound Services Inc., a company not in the business of loaning money, but rather, renting equipment. Spiegel sweetened the deal thus. First, by signing a promissory note to reimburse the company the full amount of their investment with interest. He also agreed to rent all of the necessary equipment to make the picture from Sound Services. It was enough to get the ink on the contract. However, in the tradeoff, The African Queen would be purchased outright by Sound Services Inc. who would continue to hold the rights thereafter. 

The African Queen opens with a main title sequence stirring with the exotic sounds of this forgotten part of the world. Depending on one’s point of view, what follows is either a beguiling adventure through these tropical boonies or a dreadfully Darwinian descend into a sort of unkempt purgatory from which only the strongest will survive. In short order we are introduced to Bogart’s peevish, but benign Canadian sea captain, Charlie Allnut, whose mail delivery route through the missionary villages of German-occupied East Africa place him in constant contact with brother and sister Brit evangelists, Samuel (Robert Morley) and Rose Sayer (Katherine Hepburn). Charlie forewarns the Sayers their safety is in question. WWI has begun. 

Samuel coolly shrugs off this threat. After all, the war is in Europe. Surely the Germans will respect their presence in this part of the world. Charlie thinks Samuel naïve but reserves his judgment to continue on his mail route. Shortly thereafter, German soldiers torch the Sayers mission, beating Samuel so severely he soon contracts an infection, then fever; eventually succumbing to his injuries. On his return trip, Charlie discovers the stark desolation where once there thrived a community. Charlie helps Rose bury her brother’s body, convincing her to join him aboard the African Queen. In discussion of their situation, Rose learns that the Luisa, a German gunboat, is preventing British counter-attacks in the region. She is resolved to use the African Queen as a torpedo boat to sink the Luisa - thereby avenging Samuel's death. Although Charlie reluctantly agrees to this scenario to placate Rose – merely to take her away to relative safety – his quiet hope is she will become discouraged by the insurmountable odds and folly of her plan and ultimately resign herself to quiet exile.

The nightmares resulting from Rose’s seemingly simple plan of counter attack is what fuels the rest of the film's narrative. Together, Charlie and Rose survive some harrowing rapids, escape harm from dangerous wildlife and elude the constant threat of being taken prisoners of war, either by the Germans or very hostile natives. An early confrontation with German soldiers damages the Queen’s boiler, thrusting the helpless vessel into deadly rapids. Violently pitched, the Queen narrowly survives severe flooding with Rose and Charlie clinging to her bow for dear life. Ecstatic over their good fortune, Charlie and Rose momentarily embrace. Thus begins their awkwardly slow, yet ultimately satisfying – if only platonically realized - romance. Rose’s stubborn resolve softens - somewhat. She shares memories of her life with Charlie. This humanizes Rose and allows Charlie to better comprehend the crux of what he had initially misperceived as her spinsterish and stern spirit. Yet, Charlie’s respect for Rose – as she sports a man’s temperament – begins to slowly mutate into something more. Dare we suggest it? Can it be love?

A third set of rapids cripples the Queen’s propeller shaft. However, Rose's ingenuity and Charlie's steady hands manage to resurrect the ship once again. Unfortunately, the Queen adrift becomes lodged in heavy mud. Despite several valiant attempts to free her, Rose and Charlie quickly discover that they are trapped among the rushes and reeds. Charlie contracts malaria and becomes delirious. Without proper food or water to heal her ailing partner, Rose quietly resigns herself to death and prays both she and Charlie will be admitted into Heaven together. Her prayers are answered by way of a thunderstorm that not only provides the two with fresh drinking water but also raises the river levels, thereby floating the Queen to safety and not too far from the Luisa.

Recovering from his fever, Charlie helps Rose convert oxygen cylinders into torpedoes. On the eve of another violent storm, Charlie attempts to use the Queen as a battering ram to sink the Louisa. Ill timing and a rush of sea water tips the Queen. As she sinks, Charlie is captured by the Germans and taken aboard the Luisa. The next day, Rose resigns herself to a similar fate, confessing to the German captain their plan to sink the Louisa and thereby forcing him to sentence them to death as spies. Charlie pleads before they are hanged, they be allowed to take one another as man and wife, having endured all the struggles sufficient to declare themselves in the eyes of God. The Captain agrees, even as the gallows are being prepared. Fate intervenes moments after the ceremony. The Luisa suffers a mortal wound, having brushed over the submersed hull of the Queen, thereby detonating its oxygen torpedoes. In the ensuing panic, the Luisa is destroyed, leaving Rose and Charlie to float their way to safety up the Belgian Congo.

The African Queen is exuberant old-school film-making at its finest. Herein, Huston concentrates on two aspects of the storytelling. First, the evolution of his central characters, who embark as moderate adversaries, but ultimately arrive to an understanding, unequivocally devoted to one another. The film also exposes the futilities of war and thoughtless revenge. Rose’s heart is softened by love. Her confession to the Germans redeems her in the eyes of God and thus spares both hers and Charlie’s lives at the last possible moment by an act of possibly ‘divine’ intervention. In assessing the picture’s appeal, The New York Times astutely surmised, “(Huston's) lively screen version...is a slick job of movie hoodwinking with a thoroughly implausible romance, set in a frame of wild adventure that is as whopping as its tale of offbeat love. And the main tone and character of it are in the area of the well-disguised spoof...there is beauty and excitement...While the hardships were said to be oppressive, he and his producer, S.P. Eagle (Sam Spiegel), have been repaid. Their picture is doubly provided with the insurance of popularity.”

“The movie is not great art…” Time Magazine suggested, “…but it is great fun!” Undeniably, The African Queen endures today because of the reputation of its three monumental talents: Huston, Bogart and Hepburn with the latter two giving unfettered adult and deeply moving performances. Invariably, Bogart’s is the more showy, his transformation from unshaven/ crotchety rummy into a forthright man, forced into rediscovering his heart, is quintessentially among the best work Bogart ever did. The picture also survives as one of the most sublimely gorgeous 3-strip Technicolor experiences – a real Cook’s Tour through the salamander-winding Belgium Congo. With only two days left on location, John Huston announced he would need an additional three more to complete his masterpiece, almost inciting a mutiny. By then, everyone was eager to return to the relative safety and comfort of their homes. Ultimately, Huston retained only a skeleton crew and his principles for the remaining three days. Decades later, Huston would reflect fondly on the time spent in Africa as “a wonderful experience…one of the happiest I've ever had”. But by then, Huston may have been reflecting through rose-colored glasses. He never did bag his elephant.

After nearly a decade since its 4K restoration, arriving only on standard Blu-ray in the U.S., The African Queen finally gets a native 4K release from StudioCanal in the U.K. Mercifully, the 4K is region free, allowing it to be screened anywhere in the world. Not so, for the accompanying Blu. It is ‘region B’ locked. Important to note, this release is cribbing from a 2009 4K restoration, done in conjunction with Paramount Pictures and ITV Entertainment. As the film’s cinematographer, Jack Cardiff was still alive at the time, he supervised the delicate rebalancing of the original Technicolor elements. These were inspected, scanned and intricately recombined back in 2010, with a frame-by-frame digital clean-up to remove age-related wear and tear.  

It really comes as no surprise this native 4K edition looks spectacular, as the aforementioned Blu was among the highlights from 2009. Where the 4K bests the old release is in overall color saturation and density. That said, you really have to look for the improvements on screens smaller than 65 inches. Yes, the Blu-ray is still ‘that’ good! The lushness of the location work is subtly improved in 4K and looks breathtaking in projection. Flesh tones are slightly more robust. HDR color grading is the perfect upgrade to vintage 3-strip Technicolor. This is positively luminous.  Contrast is excellent and film grain is kept to a minimum, which is how vintage Technicolor should look. The audio here is LPCM 2.0 mono and sounds solid. Studio Canal has included an archival audio commentary from Cardiff, but has also shelled out for a new track featuring script supervisor, Angela Allen and critic, Ian Christie.  We also get producer, John Woolf waxing for barely 5-mins. on the making of the movie, and the hour-long documentary, Embracing Chaos: Making The African Queen. Interviews with screenwriter, Peter Viertel and a Q&A with Anjelica Houston, plus an archival audio only with John Huston follow. Finally, there are featurettes with critic/writers, Kim Newman and Neil Sinyard, the Lux Radio adaptation, stills gallery, and trailer. As Paramount’s Blu contained only the hour-long doc, StudioCanal’s host of goodies is definitely the way to go for this classy classic. Very highly recommended!

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

5