Movies in Brief

Born Free. Elsa the lioness, born free, is last seen living free, after living as a pet, then being painfully untamed because Joy Adamson (Virginia McKenna) cannot bear to think of her living in a zoo. Born Free was barely made, on account of obvious difficulties, but Miss McKenna and her husband, Bill Travers, were willing to consort with lions and the result is not a great disappointment except perhaps for the lions, who now live in zoos: the difficulties are only slightly apparent. The score is intrusive, the narration flat, and the whole naturally formless, but the cast is excellent and very little in the movie looks forced. One is inclined to believe the concluding announcement, “This is a true story.” Gerald L.C. Copley adapted the book, and James Hill directed.

Khartoum. Mohammad Ahmad, the Mahdi, threatens Khartoum, and the English are obliged to do something. “I shall entertain suggestions as to how,” says Mr. Gladstone, and somebody says, “Gordon.” It sounds a bit like one of those mock-heroic movies. What can a movie do with a real hero, when heroes are supposed to be a joke? Just to be sure we know that this is serious, Khartoum wastes precious time casting doubt upon its hero’s heroism, asking such questions as “vanity or vision?”, implying deep mysteries of character (but every character is mysterious; why concentrate on common mystery?), before Gordon’s failure is quite certain and he can be compared with Christ. (“. . . I am not Jesus Christ,” he says. You can not miss the point.) In spite of this banality of concept, Robert Ardrey’s script is more accurate and more interesting than most historical spectacles. The complicated exposition may be bald, but it is interesting in itself. Sending Gordon with one aide to Khartoum is a gesture that becomes an irretrievable sacrifice. He will not leave, and while he lives he almost intimidates the Mahdi, and almost shames Gladstone into following the gesture through. . . . Ralph Richardson is Gladstone. Charlton Heston is Gordon. And Laurence Olivier is the Mahdi, who smells the odor of evil in Gordon’s presence and obviously is the Devil himself. As drama, this is extraordinary for a film. As film, unfortunately, Khartoum is not otherwise distinguished, except for the travelogue made by Eliot Elisofon that serves as preface. The usual sort of Cineramic violence was made by Yakima Cannutt, and Basil Dearden made the rest of the movie. Julian Blaustein produced.

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Born Free. Elsa the lioness, born free, is last seen living free, after living as a pet, then being painfully untamed because Joy Adamson (Virginia McKenna) cannot bear to think of her living in a zoo. Born Free was barely made, on account of obvious difficulties, but Miss McKenna and her husband, Bill Travers, were willing to consort with lions and the result is not a great disappointment except perhaps for the lions, who now live in zoos: the difficulties are only slightly apparent. The score is intrusive, the narration flat, and the whole naturally formless, but the cast is excellent and very little in the movie looks forced. One is inclined to believe the concluding announcement, “This is a true story.” Gerald L.C. Copley adapted the book, and James Hill directed.

Khartoum. Mohammad Ahmad, the Mahdi, threatens Khartoum, and the English are obliged to do something. “I shall entertain suggestions as to how,” says Mr. Gladstone, and somebody says, “Gordon.” It sounds a bit like one of those mock-heroic movies. What can a movie do with a real hero, when heroes are supposed to be a joke? Just to be sure we know that this is serious, Khartoum wastes precious time casting doubt upon its hero’s heroism, asking such questions as “vanity or vision?”, implying deep mysteries of character (but every character is mysterious; why concentrate on common mystery?), before Gordon’s failure is quite certain and he can be compared with Christ. (“. . . I am not Jesus Christ,” he says. You can not miss the point.) In spite of this banality of concept, Robert Ardrey’s script is more accurate and more interesting than most historical spectacles. The complicated exposition may be bald, but it is interesting in itself. Sending Gordon with one aide to Khartoum is a gesture that becomes an irretrievable sacrifice. He will not leave, and while he lives he almost intimidates the Mahdi, and almost shames Gladstone into following the gesture through. . . . Ralph Richardson is Gladstone. Charlton Heston is Gordon. And Laurence Olivier is the Mahdi, who smells the odor of evil in Gordon’s presence and obviously is the Devil himself. As drama, this is extraordinary for a film. As film, unfortunately, Khartoum is not otherwise distinguished, except for the travelogue made by Eliot Elisofon that serves as preface. The usual sort of Cineramic violence was made by Yakima Cannutt, and Basil Dearden made the rest of the movie. Julian Blaustein produced.