DONOVAN'S REEF: 4K UHD Blu-ray combo (Paramount, 1963) Kino Lorber
A rudderless
comedy, tricked out in exotic locales that, alas, pale to the colorless
performances set before them, director, John Ford’s Donovan’s Reef
(1963) should have had everything going for it; everything, that is, except a
competently rendered screenplay. The one cobbled together by Frank S. Nugent and
James Edward Grant is awash in false starts and a thoroughly flawed romantic
entanglement between saloon proprietor, Michael Patrick ‘Guns’ Donovan (Ford ‘good
luck charm’, John Wayne) and reformed Bostonian blue-blood, Amelia Dedham
(Elizabeth Allen, giving one of the most leaden rom/com performances in all of
film history). Not even Ford had faith in
the project, calling it a ‘whammy’ ‘spoof’ not about to win ‘any prizes.’ Good
call on Ford’s part. But by the time cameras rolled, Ford was so ill he all but
handed over the directorial reins to Wayne, whose drawing power as a
Teflon-coated Hollywood sun god helped make Donovan’s Reef the 24th
highest grossing pic of the year.
Alas, today, it barely
registers as a ripple in the sea. Based on original material authored by James
Michener (who received no screen credit, but whose prior novel, Tales of the
South Pacific made him the ‘go to’ for all things associated with south sea
exotica), Paramount hoped to capitalize on the enduring legacy of Michener’s earlier
prose that eventually became the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, South Pacific
(the movie version released in 1958), by naming Donovan’s Reef, ‘South
Sea Story’. As with the movie version of South Pacific, Donovan’s
Reef would make extensive use of Hawaiian locations on the isle of Kauai
subbing in for French Polynesia, the music, including the iconic titles set to ‘Pearly
Shells’, also deriving its inspiration from Hawaiian chants. With exceptions
made for a few process shots, most of the exteriors were lensed on location
with virtually all of the interiors built on soundstages back at Paramount.
Yet, for all its
glamour, there isn’t much of a point to Donovan’s Reef. No trajectory to
its plot either. And very little, if any, entertainment value to be excised from
its cardboard cutout characters who yawn and yack their way through a mountain
of misdirection. The Nugent/Grant mishmash merely drags its audience through
ill-conceived vignettes, thoroughly to waste the talents of such Hollywood stalwarts
as Cesar Romero (as the wily, Marquis Andre de Lage), Dorothy Lamour (as aged
exotic, Miss Lafleur, croaking like a toad through a thoroughly forgettable
nightclub act), Marcel Dalio (as bumbling cleric, Father Cluzeot), crusty Jack
Warden (as Amelia’s estranged father, Dr. William Dedham), and, noir thug/fav, Mike
Mazurki (Sgt. Monk Menkowicz). As Donovan’s rival, Thomas Aloysius 'Boats'
Gilhooley, we get the irrepressible Lee Marvin, giving one of his most
bombastic and mesmeric, but awful take on an uber-violent/oversexed loon, whose
sheer delight derives from repeatedly beating the living tar out of his former
shipmate, and, also, to destroy the saloon he eventually inherits from Donovan
for making an honest gal out of Lafleur, ever-pining for his affections.
Donovan’s Reef has the
acting/directing pedigree to have become a bona fide classic. And certainly, William
H. Clothier’s plush cinematography makes for some eye-catching escapist holiday
fluff, though it would have looked far more appetizing in vintage VistaVision
(the short-lived, but infinitely superior Paramount patented widescreen
process, all but abandoned by the studio at this juncture). Alas, the story
goes nowhere – fast. Despite being stocked with a veritable who’s who of big
stars and great actors, virtually every performance herein settles into mid-range
plunk and blandness.
Plot wise: we are
introduced to U.S. expat’, Thomas Gilhooley on a freighter. Upon learning there
will be no stopover at his native, Haleakaloha in French Polynesia, Gilhooley viciously
attacks the ship’s captain, before jumping overboard to swim ashore. Meanwhile,
on the picturesque isle we meet Michael Donovan, Gilhooley’s former shipmate.
Upon discovering through De Lago’s telescope that Gilhooley is inbound, Donovan
plots to intercept him. The boys meet up at Donovan’s Reef – Michael’s bar, strangely
to be perpetually closed for business. Gilhooley’s early arrival allows him to
slip into Donovan’s freshly pressed white linen suit, momentarily to embrace
his former amour, LaFleur, before being assaulted by Donovan in a needless,
knock-down/drag-out brawl. This ends, but only with the intervention of mutual
friend, William Dedham, the only medical doctor in the archipelago. The crux of
Donovan and Gilhooley’s animosity? The two share the same birthday. Dedham asks
Donovan to watch over his three young children, teenager, Lelani (Jacqueline
Malouf), prepubescent, Sarah (Cherylene Lee), and, Luke (Jeffrey Byron, billed
herein as Tim Stafford), while he is away on a circuit of the islands, administering
to the native population.
Meanwhile, in
Boston, tight-laced Amelia Dedham becomes chairwoman of the Dedham Shipping
Company. William Dedham, the father she has never known, has just inherited controlling
stock in the family-run trust – an inheritance he might be denied if Amelia can
prove Will has led a debaucherous life abroad. Thus, she makes her pilgrimage to
Haleakaloha to exercise the morality clause in the will. Concerned the discovery
of Will’s three children by a Polynesian mother who has since died will derail the
inheritance, Donovan, Gilhooley and De Lage conspire to suggest Donovan is the
father of Leilani, Sarah, and Luke. They move the kids from the family estate
into Donovan’s humble abode while Donovan romantically pursues the increasingly
reluctant Amelia, much to De Lage’s otherwise lascivious chagrin. Eventually, Amelia
unearths the truth: William, Donovan, and Gilhooley were marooned on the island
during WWII and waged their own private war against the Japanese after their destroyer
was sunk. William made a new home on the island after the war, unaware Amelia’s
mother had given birth to his child back in the U.S. After some years, word
arrived of the child’s birth. But by then, William firmly believed Amelia would
be best served in the care of those she had come to know as her family.
As the years
passed, William established himself as an island doctor, building a hospital of
some prominence with the aid of the locals. In his home, there hangs a portrait
of his late Polynesian wife, Manulani, who died in childbirth. Oddly, this painting
bears a striking resemblance to Amelia too, even though she is not of the same womb.
The rigid resentment initially festering between Donovan and Amelia, thanks
primarily to the clash between his liberal and her conservative mindsets, only
grows more intense, though there are periodic respites where Amelia softens in
her belief Donovan is a good father to ‘his’ children. She is also mildly
impressed when her initial assessment of Donovan as an uncouth islander is disproven
by his disarming intelligence, and business savvy. Conversely, Amelia surprises
Donovan by shedding what he misperceives as her slum prudery to go water-skiing.
Rather insidiously, De Lage launches a counter-amour to gain access to Amelia’s
$18,000,000 by revealing that Donovan is a bachelor. Ergo, ‘his’ children are
bastards.
When William
returns from his island mission, he is reunited with Amelia and confides all
but the truth to her about his Polynesian children – her half-siblings.
Suspecting as much, Amelia confronts Father Cluzeot, who has resisted Donovan’s
repeated philanthropy to pay for the badly needed repairs to his church. Amelia
learns Manulani was the granddaughter of the last hereditary prince of the
islands. Leilani — Manulani's daughter — is, therefore, Amelia's half-sister.
Donovan and Amelia quarrel over his deception and she makes ready to depart for
Boston immediately. Having reconciled with her father, Amelia now takes William’s
advice to go and see Donovan before taking her leave. Donvan makes a wedding
present to Gilhooley of his bar so Gilhooley can wed LaFleur. He also arranges
for his ‘broken’ gambling machine to pay out to Cluzeot who, regarding this as
a good old-fashioned Christmas miracle, accepts the money to fix the church.
Once again, Amelia and Donovan quarrel. But this time, he conquers her resistance
with his brute masculinity. She cancels her plans to return home. In the final
moments, we see Donovan, Amelia, and, the children, moving into William’s palatial
home.
Donovan’s Reef is a real mutt
of a movie. Problematic too, the screenplay allows for no genuine moments of
passion between Donovan and Amelia. There is not a kiss administered that does
not begin or end with a slap or bitter comment; not one moon-lit pas deux for
the lovers to set aside their differences and find common ground on which to
build their life together. So, their sudden – and rather idiotic –
reconciliation in these malingering moments before the final fade to black come
out of nowhere. It's the proverbial ‘happy ending’ tacked on for good measure. Except
nothing about Donovan’s Reef is as good as its scenery. Kauai is
gorgeous, and, cinematographer, Clothier takes full advantage of its glistening
coastline and sumptuous mountain greenery. That said, a great locale does not a
good movie make. And without it, Donovan’s Reef is well below par for a
John Wayne flick, though particularly one supposedly directed by the imminent
John Ford.
Lest we
remember, Ford gave us a half-century’s worth of some of the most iconic
westerns, heartrending dramas and occasional comedies ever put on film. Donovan’s
Reef is not among any of these gemstones. At times, it’s not even a
competent Ford film. There is nothing beyond John Wayne’s star presence to
recommend it. And, seemingly knowing this,
even Wayne succumbs to sleepwalking his way through the show. We are given a
rather weary reincarnation of the John Wayne we know and love, or rather, his
Cole’s Notes version of a character contented to fall back on prior, cemented cliché.
Lee Marvin’s blunt instrument begins strong enough. His assault on the captain
of the freighter is shocking. But then, Lee’s Gilhooley swims into uncharted waters,
emerging bedraggled, as just another silly goon out of Central Casting, who likes
to break things apart – even the things he owns – just because he cannot think
of anything better to do with his time.
It is rather
insulting how indiscriminately the Nugent/Grant screenplay introduces, then
jettisons these top-tier talents from our story. Why, as example, do we open
with Lee’s Gilhooley? He isn’t going to be the driving force in this narrative.
Not even a secondary character of any minor importance. Just a thug, endlessly
remade, then watered down, as a modestly appealing figure of fun. Why is
Dorothy Lamour in this one? She stumbles through an embarrassingly second-rate
song written by Cyril Mockridge, is presented as Gilhooley’s love interest,
then disappears from view. The plot, such as it is, remains that of the run-of-the-mill
‘boy meets girl’ franchise Hollywood simply cannot resist. Only Wayne remains a
constant. The rest of the cast floats in and out of the story, only
occasionally to impact the plot, and more often than not, in very mechanically
designed narrative arcs that stumble and fade from consciousness long before
their feeble purpose for merely existing can be ascertained. In the end, Donovan’s
Reef is a reunion for some of the great talents Ford once assembled to create
true cinema art, though, on this occasion, are not even interested in making good
escapist entertainment. How sad.
Donovan’s Reef arrives on 4K
UHD/Blu-ray via Kino Lorber, cribbing from remastered elements supplied by
Paramount Pictures. Paramount’s done good work here…mostly. Age-related debris
has been eradicated. Colors pop as they should. The verdant tones of Kauai
sparkle. Flesh tones lean toward burnt tones, presumably, sun-kissed. There are
a handful of scenes that exhibit a sudden loss of image crispness and fine
detail, and, where color fidelity registers in muddier hues. The scene where
Gilhooley arrives at Donovan’s Reef for the first time, as example, looks as
though it were sourced from a 3D negative that has been mis-registered, weirdly
out of focus. Film grain toggles between practically nonexistent, to slightly
clumpy. Long shots throughout are less refined. There are also moments when
only the center of the frame appears in focus while the outer edges look
distortedly blurry, though I could find no information cinematographer, William
Clothier used diffusion filters to create such an effect. The 2.0 DTS audio is
impressive enough, with well-delineated dialogue and effects. The 4K and
standard Blu both contain new audio commentaries; the first by historian Joseph
McBride, the second by historian, Dwayne Epstein. Neither is particularly
engaging, though McBride has more to say than Epstein about the overall
production. The Blu also sourced from the native 4K, contains the nearly
half-hour ‘The Growler Story’ (1957) also directed by John Ford. It’s in
standard def, and is largely forgettable. Bottom line: Donovan’s Reef is
a tired chestnut; its humor - monotonous, it’s acting - tedious, and its
entertainment value registering somewhere between forgetting your dentures at
home and watching fresh paint dry. The 4K is well-represented, if hardly
perfect. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
2
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
1
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