I don't have all the words right now but this film is a work of art.

Good concept, poorly executed.

Don't Believe the Hype

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

Adaptation of Romain Gary's 1956 novel by the author and Patrick Leigh-Fermor has a British environmentalist in French Equatorial Africa fighting the slaughter of elephants by ivory poachers for their tusks. He amusedly shoots a bragging broadcaster (Orson Welles, in a colorful cameo) in the rear-end with buckshot, he has a society shark publicly humiliated...but when the mercenaries get serious, so must he, accumulating his own small army and becoming a guerrilla fighter for the elephants' cause. Something of a surprise coming from director and real-life big game hunter John Huston, who opens his film with lugubrious character introductions that do little for the audience; however, once the preliminaries are out of the way, the handsomely-produced picture becomes an engrossing dramatic story of a (possibly unintended) martyr sharing and expanding his cause while taking it the ultimate distance--death before dishonor. Trevor Howard is excellent in the central role, supporting performances from Juliette Greco as a loving bar hostess, Errol Flynn as a hard-drinking military officer and Eddie Albert as an opportunistic photojournalist are equally good. Huston's sense of humor (droll at times, acerbic at others) is welcomed, while the finale catches one off-guard with its deeply-felt emotion. This appears to have been a rigorous film for all involved to make, but Huston's heart is in it, and he does amazing work. **1/2 from ****

A very odd film like no other, with a startlingly modern and timeless argument and therefore conveying an urgent message for all times. Romain Gary, married to Jean Seberg, was a superior genius, and all films made on his books are on a special level of quality and interest. The argument is what already Walt Disney dared to introduce in "Bambi" - the outrageous abuse of nature by man.The character Morel, aptly played by Trevor Howard, who must have found this sort of character a special treat, takes a stand against man for the elephants and actually starts a crusade against poachers. He is supported by Juliette Greco, who gives the film a very fitting female extra dimension. Orson Welles is perfect as usual in a particularly revealing character of a parody on Americanism, like also Eddie Albert as the final photographer, while Herbert Lom makes a perfect villain. The final touch is Errol Flynn in his last bow as a failed soldier who nevertheless in spite of his exaggerated and pathetic alcoholism succeeds in ending honourably. This is the only film he mentions in his autobiography as a film to be proud of.Objections have been raised against John Huston's direction. The rhythm of the film is very slow, as focus is more on the important dialogue than on any action, but nevertheless he succeeds in sustaining a constant suspense throughout the film although very little happens. In fact, the story in its wild but monotonous settings never ceases to came up with new surprises.It didn't cause much attention in its day, although its problems should have been of concern to all humanity even then almost 60 years ago, few really understood it, since it was so far ahead of its time, but the story with its argument is a compelling work of genius which today is more imminent in its message than ever, and John Huston definitely secured the message.

Trevor Howard would like you to sign his petition to save the elephant. The elephant is one of Africa's biggest creatures. Yet, he is usually gentle. His only enemy is that of man. Man hunts elephants for his skin, his tusks, for the sport. All this is what Trevor Howard stands up for and wants others to join in his quest to save the elephant. Unfortunately, no one has signed it. Even a man of the cloth rationalizes a reason not to sign it. When someone makes the rather unique remark, that he's going about it the wrong way, he tries another tactic, a more hands-on approach. Featuring a very good supporting cast that includes Errol Flynn, Eddie Albert, Herbert Lom, Paul Lukas and Orson Welles, this should have been better than it was. It does contain a rather earnest performance by Trevor Howard, Errol Flynn with his usual cavalier style, an odd fascination about it (maybe due in part to the mystique of Africa and the elephants) and great photography/cinematography of the elephants themselves, particularly near the end with a dramatic stampede of them. But other than aforesaid attributes, this safari of wannabe criminals gets tiresome by the end and frankly wore me out. If you're watching this just for Errol Flynn, don't!

Spoilers. It's always convenient for scientists to treat the brains -- not to say the "minds" -- of animals as black boxes. We know what goes in ("stimuli") and we know what comes out ("responses") but we don't know what's inside. But anyone who has owned a pet knows that the black box has a good deal of personality inside it. (I once had the world's nastiest canary.) The study of animal consciousness is beginning to take form. Elephants in particular have curious traits that are difficult to interpret without being "anthropomorphic", a bad word in science. But Jeffrey Masson's "Why Elephants Cry" provides a good survey of their quirks. As described in this movie, one of the characters pumps shot after shot into an elephant before killing it. There was just such an historical event in which a hunter, having wounded an elephant and caused it to lean against a tree, put several deliberate bullets into it as an experiment, to see which one would most effectively bring it down. Observers noted that as the animal absorbed these shots he was weeping. They are curious indeed. They take care of their ill or disabled offspring. That much we can identify with. But when a group comes across a long-dead elephant carcass, thoroughly skeletonized, they get extremely excited and noisy, and they try to actually pick up the scattered bones and carry them away. And this we cannot understand -- not you, not me, and not ethologists. But we WILL go on killing them, and other "game" animals, for the most trivial of reasons -- trophies, money, folk medicine. Morrell, the idealist in this film, says of elephants that they are the largest land animals on earth, but nothing fears them, and they fear nothing. They eat only tender greens and are harmless. The movie makes Morrell and his followers look like loonies in the context of what was then French Equatorial Africa. And sometimes the movie makers turn him into a rabid visionary, the John Brown of the environmentalists. But he's right of course and the rest of Homo sapiens who do not recognize this are self-destructive fools. The movie doesn't come together as it should. The plot outlines are clear enough. Morrell is waging a lonely battle to save the beasts. Cheswick, a famous American hunter and journalist popularizes his cause. Morrell is then joined by other figures, some idealists and some exploiters who need the notoriety. A number of his valuable colleagues are killed in a shootout with ivory poachers. Morrell and the few survivors march off to carry on their fight. We don't find out what happens to them. And there is a girl, Juliet Greco, whose place in the narrative is uncertain. If we think about it, it seems as if Morrell may go on, but that his cause is lost, which means that the elephants lose as well. The director, John Huston, has inserted some welcome humor. A snobby boastful and very tall white huntress, Madame Orsini, gets thoroughly spanked on her bare bottom for having killed so many elephants. The funniest episode is Cheswick's visit. Orson Welles struts around his well-appointed African camp, that sonorous baritone more pompous than ever -- "Oh, it's dangerous," he tells the audience through his microphone, "and it's tough". (Here he grabs a bottle of Vat 69 scotch with his free hand.) "But I like the danger. I'd rather be here than in the crumbling ruins of Greece. Because here is where you stand face to face with the big ones. Yes, they're big alright." (Here, he bends over a table, exposing his broad-beamed rear, which then receives a blast of shotgun pellets.) The performances are pretty uniformly good. It's nice that Trevor Howard, as Morrell, wasn't chosen because of his prettiness but because his face has character. On the whole, despite the humor, and the open-ended final scene, designed to maintain hope, it's a sad movie. It's a shame that, in going about making their livings, human beings can't confine themselves to eating water lillies and green shoots.