The V.I.P.s and The Fog

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton.

The V.I.P.s (1963).  A fogged-in London airport provides the setting—and serves as the catalyst—in playwright Terence Rattigan’s The V.I.P.s. This collage of mini-dramas shares the same structure as films such as Grand Hotel and Rattigan’s own Separate Tables. The principal characters include: an emotionally-withdrawn tycoon (Richard Burton); his ignored wife (Elizabeth Taylor), who plans to leave him; her lover (Louis Jourdan); a businessman (Rod Taylor) fighting a hostile takeover of his company; his secretary (Maggie Smith) who secretly loves him; an elderly, financially-strapped dowager (Margaret Rutherford); and a blustery filmmaker (Orson Welles), who stands to pay a hefty tax bill if he can’t leave the country by midnight. As expected, some subplots are engrossing (Rod Taylor’s dilemma), while others are filler (the plight of Welles’ filmmaker). The standout performances come from Richard Burton and Maggie Smith. Burton’s initially one-dimensional character gains depth as the film progresses, while Maggie Smith shines brightly from start to finish. A scene between Burton and Smith toward the end is a master class in acting. Dame Margaret Rutherford won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar as the befuddled dowager. She’s good, delivering a more reserved portrayal than usual. However, I would have given that award to the luminous Maggie Smith. 

Adrienne Barbeau in the lighthouse.

The Fog (1980). In his theatrical follow-up to Halloween (1978), John Carpenter opts to create a different kind of horror film with a supernatural tale set in an atmospheric Northern California coastal community. The premise is set up with a nifty recounting of a local story in which a clipper ship’s crew of six died in a crash against the rocks after mistaking a campfire for the lighthouse on a foggy night. A hundred year later, as Antonio Bay prepares to celebrate its centennial, a glowing fog engulfs the town—and brings forth the vengeful ghosts of the ship’s crew. But why are the murderous spirits seeking the lives of six town residents? The answer is somewhat interesting, but therein lies the problem with The Fog. It’s a middle-of-the-road effort that rarely lives up to its potential. The ghosts aren’t frightening, the characters lack interest, and Carpenter fails to generate adequate suspense (a surprise coming on the heels of his superbly-crafted Halloween). The cast—which includes real-life mother and daughter Janet Leigh and Jamie Lee Curtis—is game, but just doesn’t have enough quality material. One suspects Carpenter recognized these flaws as he shot additional footage after viewing the rough cut. The director certainly rebounded, with his next two movies, Escape from New York (1981) and The Thing (1982), ranking among his best.

The Wild Geese: Action in Africa

Richard Burton as Faulkner.

When an African dictator's actions threaten to lower British copper prices, influential banker Sir Miles Matheson seeks to discredit the man. Matheson (Stewart Granger) knows that the dictator kidnapped the country's popular president and then spread rumors of his death. So, Matheson contracts with a former Army colonel, Allen Faulkner, to form a mercenary force to rescue the hostage president. 

Faulkner (Richard Burton) reunites with two trusted subordinates: a former captain (Richard Harris), who is an expert at planning complex missions, and an ex-lieutenant (Roger Moore), a highly skilled as a field commander. Their rescue mission goes off without a hitch--until their escape plane lands, turn arounds, and departs without them.

Hardy Kruger.

Made and set in 1978, The Wild Geese is a military action picture along the lines of the superior Where Eagles Dare--which also starred Burton. To his credit, veteran screenwriter Reginald Rose (12 Angry Men) tries to inject some gravitas into the proceedings. For much of the mission, the frail President Limbani (Winston Ntshona) is carried by a prejudiced South African officer (the late Hardy Krüger). Their dialogue inspires the latter to at least reconsider his views. It also elevates The Wild Geese from more conventional run-of-the-mill action pictures.

Roger Moore.

The biggest names in the cast at the time were Burton and Moore (The Spy Who Loved Me came out the previous year). Alas, they're saddled with stereotypical roles: Burton is the crusty leader who inspires loyalty and loves his soldiers; Moore plays the cigar-chewing, devil-may-care adventurer swooned over by the opposite sex. That leaves the juicy roles to Richard Harris and Hardy Krüger.

Harris was the second choice to play Captain Rafer Janders after Burt Lancaster turned down the role. As Janders, a single father devoted to his young son, Harris shows his character's sensitive side--a effective contrast to his military bearing in the field. His nuanced acting reminds one that Harris could be a fine performer when he wasn't slumming in movies beneath him. As for the always reliable Krüger, he creates a believable, interesting character in just a few scenes. It's a model of concise acting. (Incidentally, Krüger and another co-star, Ronald Fraser, appeared together in the earlier classic Flight of the Phoenix).

Richard Harris as Janders.

Andrew V. McLaglen directs with a sure hand, which is unsurprising since he follows a formula similar to his earlier World War II effort The Devil's Brigade (1968). He reteamed with Roger Moore, playing against type this time, in the following year's action picture ffolkes (aka North Sea Hijack).

Although The Wild Geese flopped in the U.S., it was a big hit in Great Britain and easily recouped its cost. A sequel, Wild Geese II, came out in 1985. Burton had agreed to star as Colonel Faulkner again, but died shortly before production began. Edward Fox came on board and played the lead role (but as Faulkner's brother). Roger Moore declined to appear in the follow-up.

An Interview with Audrey Dalton on Olivia & Joan, Bob Hope, and William Castle

Born in Dublin in 1934, the beautiful and talented Audrey Dalton fashioned a film and television career that spanned three decades. In the 1950s, she acted alongside screen legends such as Olivia de Havilland and Richard Burton (My Cousin Rachel), Bob Hope (Casanova's Big Night), Barbara Stanwyck (Titanic), and Alan Ladd (Drum Beat). She also starred in cult film favorites The Monster That Challenged the World (1957) and Mr. Sardonicus (1961). In the 1960s, she was a frequent guest star in classic television series such as Wagon Train, Thriller, Perry Mason, and Gunsmoke. Ms. Dalton recently appeared at the Williamsburg Film Festival in Williamsburg, Virginia, and graciously agreed to an interview.

Café:  How did you get into acting?

Audrey Dalton at the 2016
Williamsburg Film Festival.

Audrey Dalton:  I had always wanted to ever since I was very little. I was fortunate enough that my family moved to London when I was 16. I later auditioned for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London and was admitted. I was trained there and, while still at the Academy, a scout from Paramount Pictures saw me in a theater production. That led to an audition for a film in Hollywood. I came over for six months...and here I am. I'm not going to tell you how many years later (laughs).

Café:  So you had a contract with Paramount?

AD:  I was on contract to them for two years. I did loan-outs to Fox and then I became a free agent--not under contract anymore.

Café:  One of your first film roles was My Cousin Rachel. What was it like starring opposite Olivia de Havilland and Richard Burton?

Audrey Dalton and Richard Burton.

AD:  Olivia de Havilland--I was awestruck. It was Richard Burton's first movie in Hollywood. He was a character, such a raconteur. He'd talk and talk. I think he was a little intimidated by Olivia de Havilland, too. She was always so gracious for a major star. It was Richard Burton's first film and he had trouble shooting, as we do, in segments. He wanted to do the whole scene. He didn't like to do it again for different shots and different cuts. But he learned to do it. I saw My Cousin Rachel for the first time in about 30 years just the other night on television. I sat and watched it when I should have been packing to come here. It was a good movie and Richard Burton's performance was wonderful--all that fire and energy and with that wonderful speaking voice.

Café:  His character should have stuck with you instead of Rachel.

AD:  Well, who knows what might happened later after Rachel died? It was all shot on Twentieth Century-Fox's backlot except for the ocean scenes, on what is now Century City. If you have been in Beverly Hills, that's a huge shopping center. So, the place where I shot Titanic and My Cousin Rachel is now all buildings and hotels.

Café:  You starred with Olivia's sister, Joan Fontaine, in Casanova's Big Night. Did you get a feel for the relationship between the sisters? I have read where it was very cool.

AD:  I have heard that, too. But the subject never came up. Those were the kinds of things you didn't talk about. They were so different, in looks and personalities. Joan was very effervescent and a great match for Bob Hope. They just traded barbs all the time and laughed and joked.

Café:  What was it like playing in a Bob Hope comedy?

AD:  It was fun. On the set, he always had the same group of small-part players with him. He knew all these people and would make sure that they were included somewhere in his movie so they always had a job. He took care of people. He was very, very sweet. In fact, when I first came here, I was 18 and on my own. He had a son and a daughter, who were a little younger than me by a couple of years. On Sunday evenings, he would sometime take me to dinner with his wife. They would come pick me and take me to dinner because they figured I needed a little looking after. He and Dolores were kindness itself.

Café:  Did Bob Hope stick with the script when filming?

AD:  Oh, no! He drove the writers and the director crazy. He kept twisting lines to try to make them funnier. He would say "gon-dole-la" instead of "gondola," which the writers wanted him to say. It goes back and forth a bit in the movie.

Café:  How well did you get along with Alan Ladd on Drum Beat?

With Alan Ladd in Drum Beat (1954).

AD:  Alan Ladd was wonderful to work with--very professional. He was very quiet off the set, very much a gentleman. I knew his family in Los Angeles. My father had known Alan because they were both into race horses. When I came here, Alan was asked to keep an eye on me. He took me into his family. He had a daughter who was a student at UCLA and she and I became good friends. We're still friends.

Café:  Delmer Daves is one of my favorite 1950s film directors. How would you describe his working style as a director on Drum Beat?

AD:  He was very tall and gregarious. He had a wonderful background of stories. He knew every day what he was going to shoot and he coaxed and pulled to get people to do what he wanted. He was very upbeat, never down, and always smiling. The world was wonderful. I was so sad when I heard that he had passed away.

Café:  The Monster That Challenged the World has become a well-regarded science fiction film of the 1950s. What was your initial impression when you read the script?

That's not Audrey on the poster!

AD:  I was puzzled by it. I was a working actor. I believed that was my job and you did your job. In those days, I was not picking and choosing. I never really did, unless it was offensive or something I didn't want to do. I thought it was a very interesting experience--as all my movies were in different ways. The director, Arnold Laven, had formed a production company with Jules Levy and Arthur Gardner. The monster stuff was fun, crouching behind a desk with a monster breaking down the wall. But you had to play it very straight. Once you start seeing the funny side of it, it doesn't work. Tim Holt had come out of retirement to do this movie. He was a quiet, very nice man--the most "unactor" actor that I ever worked with. The film's poster features a woman in a bathing suit. People think it's me, but it was the actress whose character was drowned in the opening sequence. She's pulled into the water by the monster. We shot down on the beach for that. I think the rest of it was filmed along the California Aqueduct.

Café:  You and Jacqueline Scott both worked with William Castle on different films. What was it like working with William Castle on Mr. Sardonicus?

Dalton in Mr. Sardonicus.

AD:  William Castle loved those kinds of movies. He got such a kick out of enticing the audience. He would literally giggle and laugh. I even have shots at home of him in the torture chamber of Baron Sardonicus. One of the devices was called an iron maiden, which was like a sarcophagus tomb standing on end. But when you opened it, it had all these nails sticking out. I have a picture of William Castle going into it. Oscar Homolka was the butler and had this face that he could pull in five different directions and he'd threaten young maidens. The clothes, especially the gowns, were beautiful. I had a very good time making that movie.

Café:  You've appeared in a number of fine films and classic TV series. What are some of your favorite roles?

AD:  Usually, I loved the one I was in at the time...which is not giving you an answer. I loved going back to Wagon Train, because I knew everybody. I think I did eight episodes of Wagon Train. There was one where I had to sing an aria from La Traviata. I am one of those people who has been blessed with not having a voice to sing with...at all. I can't carry two notes. I needed to be singing this aria. So, the studio gave me a recording of it and I had to learn it by rote so you could see the throat muscles work during the scene. Later on, of course, they substituted a singing voice for mine. But the poor crew had to listen to me sing it on the set. They deserved some extra money for having to put up with the awful screeching.

Café:  I recently saw one of your Wagon Train episodes. It was one where you fell in love with a man who may have been John Wilkes Booth. We never know for sure.

AD:  I also remember "The Liam Fitzmorgan Story" episode, which had an Irish feel to it.

Café:  Can you still do an Irish accent?

Audrey Dalton and her daughter Tara.

AD:  Well, it's not too hard (spoken in an Irish accent). In fact, if I'm talking on the phone to people at home, it comes without even trying.

Café:  When people come up to you at conventions like this, are there one or two roles that they ask you about the most?

AD:  Titanic (1953) is a big one. People are interested in it and, of course, the Westerns. One of my favorites was a Bonanza episode with Mercedes McCambridge (1962's "The Lady from Baltimore"). I was trying to marry Little Joe and big brother knew what I was up to.

Café:  Were you bad?

AD:  Oh, I was bad! And with a scheming mother.

Café:  Do you have any upcoming projects you'd like to share with our readers?

AD:  I enjoy events like this and do them every once in awhile. We have great grandchildren now and I love to take care of them. My life is more domestic now.

My Cousin Rachel: Is Olivia de Havilland a Murderer?

Can you name two real-life sisters who each starred in a Hollywood adaptation of a Daphne Du Maurier novel? The answer, as you may have known, is Joan Fontaine and Olivia de Havilland. Joan naturally starred in Rebecca, Alfred Hitchcock’s 1940 Oscar-winner. Olivia portrayed the title role in 1952’s lesser-known, but equally compelling, My Cousin Rachel. It’s not surprising that Rebecca was the bigger hit of the two, given its all-star cast and the collaboration of Hitchcock and David O. Selznick. Also, it boasted a happy ending. But while I admire Rebecca, I find the intentionally ambiguous My Cousin Rachel to be the more intriguing film.

Richard Burton (in his first major screen role) plays Philip Ashley, a young man raised by his older cousin Ambrose on an isolated estate along the Cornish coast. The two men have a close relationship, as evidenced by Philip’s description of Ambrose as “father, brother, friend--everything in the world to me.” Thus, Philip is surprised when his cousin departs for an indefinite holiday in Italy for health reasons. That surprise only grows when he receives a letter from Ambrose announcing his marriage to Rachel Sangalletti, a widowed distant cousin. Weeks later, Philip receives a series of disturbing letters in which Ambrose accuses Rachel of trying to kill him. Philip rushes to Florence to see his cousin, only to learn that Ambrose has died and Rachel has vanished.

Philip confronts his cousin's widow.

Shortly after Philip’s return to Cornwall, Rachel (Olivia de Havilland) appears on an apparent pretense to deliver some of her late husband’s possessions. Philip wants to accuse her of Ambrose’s murder, even though there is medical evidence that a brain tumor may have caused his cousin’s paranoid behavior. However, Philip—like everyone else—finds Rachel to be completely charming. In fact, he begins to fall in love with her, despite rumors of questionable behavior on her part.

Philip searches for murder evidence.

There have been numerous films built around the “did they or didn’t they” premise (Suspicion, anyone?). But I can’t think of a movie that plays on that premise more skillfully than My Cousin Rachel. At various points during the film, the viewer is equally convinced that Rachel is a clever, money-grubbing murderer or an innocent woman coping with conflicting emotions. Her actions ensure that she remains a enigma. Rachel appears to return Philip’s affections, but she coldly turns down his marriage proposal. She nurses him when he is gravely ill, but rejects him again when he recovers. She announces her departure from Cornwall, but confides to a friend her strong feelings for Philip. We’re never sure if she’s wrestling with her emotions or just very devious.

As for Philip, there is no doubt that he is naïve and prone to quick decisions. He ignores sound financial advice from his solicitor. He rejects all criticism and acts peevish when he doesn’t get his way. One explanation for his behavior may be his desire to replace Ambrose with Rachel, as if the thought of being alone is more than he can bear. He dismisses any romantic interest in Louisa, his pretty neighbor and long-time friend. It’s as if only Rachel can fill the lonely void left by Ambrose.

Richard Burton and Olivia de Havilland excel at playing these complex characters. Daphne Du Maurier recommended Burton for the part. It’s not a subtle performance, perhaps because the stage-trained actor was still adjusting to the medium of film. However, his tendency to sometimes overplay works to his advantage, imbuing Philip with an almost manic personality. Burton earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor.

Richard Burton at age 27.

Some sources claim that Burton and de Havilland did not get along well. In his biography Richard Burton: Prince of Players, Michael Munn quotes de Havilland: “(Burton is) a coarse-grained man with a coarse-grained charm and a talent not completely developed.” However, in an interview with Irene Kahn Atkins, My Cousin Rachel’s director Henry Koster claimed there was no friction between his two stars. In reference to the young Burton, he stated: “Without him, this picture wouldn't have been what it was.”

Olivia de Havilland as Rachel.

For her part, Olivia de Havilland gives one of her best performances. She had not made a film in three years, but was still basking in the glow of critical acclaim for The Snake Pit (1948) and The Heiress (1949). Still, she was not the first choice for the title role in My Cousin Rachel. George Cukor considered directing the film at one time, with the goal of bringing Greta Garbo out of retirement to play Rachel. Vivien Leigh was also a candidate for the role before Olivia de Havilland was cast.

From a production standpoint, My Cousin Rachel looks impressive and believably recreates the Cornish coast (although some footage was shot in Cornwall). It’s no surprise that the film’s crew earned Oscar nominations for art direction, costume design, and cinematography (black & white).

Daphne Du Maurier’s novel was remade as a four-part British miniseries in 1983 with Geraldine Chaplin as Rachel and Christopher Guard as Philip. Alas, I’ve never seen it so I cannot make a comparison. It would have to be very good, though, to rank with the splendid 1952 version.


This review is part of the CMBA's Fabulous Films of the 1950s Blogathon. Click here to check out this wonderful blogathon's complete schedule.

Bad Movie Theatre: Liz and Dick in "The Sandpiper"

Richard Burton dominated the silver screen in the mid-1960s, delivering several of his finest performances in films such as: The Night of the Iguana (1964); Becket (1964); The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (1965); Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966); and The Taming of the Shrew (1967).

Then there’s The Sandpiper.

After the disappointing Cleopatra and the banal The V.I.P.s, Burton and then-wife Elizabeth Taylor were due for a successful pairing. Unfortunately, they chose a mushy, poorly-written soap set in Big Sur. Perhaps, they just wanted an expense-paid vacation on the beach.

Liz plays Laura Reynolds, a free-spirited artist who lives in an ocean-front cabin with Danny, her nine-year-old son. The home-schooled Danny has “issues” that prompt Judge Thompson (Torin Thatcher) to place the boy in a boarding school run by Episcopalian priest Dr. Edward Hewitt (Burton).  Laura and Edward clash immediately, with her shouting that Danny is “a healthy normal boy who hasn’t been brainwashed yet.” Keep in mind that this is the same lad who went before Judge Thompson three times for offenses such as killing a yearling.

From their first meeting, it’s apparent that the married Edward is very interested in the young, single mother. Even Laura’s beatnik friend (Charles Bronson) notices Edward’s frequent gazes when he asks her: “Are you gonna seduce him?” Still miffed at having her son taken away, she retorts: “It would serve him right if I did.”

Along the way, though, she falls in love with Edward and the couple spends a blissful week cavorting on the beach. Are we supposed to feel happy for these characters and then sad when—inevitably—they are torn apart? Surely not, because Edward is cheating on his dutiful wife (Eva Marie Saint) and devoted mother Laura seems to have forgotten about her son. Indeed, the weakest aspect of The Sandpiper is that it’s built around two characters that never gain audience sympathy.

The poster makes the film look steamier that it is.

The film’s failure is surprising given its pedigree. Vincente Minnelli directed from a script written by former blacklisted writers Dalton Trumbo (Spartacus) and Michael Wilson (Lawrence of Arabia). One can blame them for the dreadful pacing and the stilted dialogue (poor Robert Webber has to end almost every sentence with “baby” to show he’s a “player”). 

Still, everyone involved in The Sandpiper needs to share the blame for the general air of disinterest and gaps in logic. For example, Laura and Edward are having a clandestine affair, but gaze lovingly at each other in a local, very public restaurant. Laura’s “shack” on the beach turns out to be a charming private cabin with an amazing view—perfect for a starving artist. Finally, I assume that the little bird (a sandpiper) with a broken wing was supposed to be symbolic—though I’m not sure what of.

As for the cast, Burton walks through his role and Liz alternates between being mellow (in a groovy way) and going into histrionic mode. Eva Marie Saint isn’t in enough of the movie to make a difference. Charles Bronson probably comes off best as Liz’s cynical fellow artist (supposedly, Liz wanted Sammy Davis, Jr. cast in that role).

The Flight of the Sandpiper, as it was originally called, was intended as a vehicle for Kim Novak. She allegedly had a falling out with producer Martin Ransohoff, but it also could be that she felt the ill-fated affair plotline was too similar to her earlier (and far better) film Strangers When We Meet (1960).

Of course, before I dismiss The Sandpiper altogether, I need to point out that it received a well-deserved Academy Award for Best Original Song with “The Shadow of Your Smile.” It beat out “What’s New, Pussycat” and “I Will Wait for You” (from The Umbrellas of Cherbourg). It just goes to show that watching a bad movie can be like panning for gold. There may be a lot of wet sand, but sometimes there’s a nice little nugget hiding in there.