BY FRED BLOSSER
Nowadays,
for those of us in comfortable circumstances, traveling to remote, exotic
shores is no big deal. All you need are
a credit card and a reservation at Sandals. If you’re especially eager to shed the daily grind, you’ll even take the
chance of sitting in planes and terminals for hours among scores of strangers,
any of whom may be carrying the COVID-19 virus. (Rest assured, they’ll be equally wary of you.) If you prefer to ride out the pandemic,
Tahiti and Waikiki will still be waiting. In the 1930s and early ‘40s, such luxury was beyond the reach of the
average wage-earner. They had to make do
with a night at the local movie house, where they could vicariously spend time
in Polynesia -- or at least Hollywood’s version, sometimes in Technicolor --
for the price of admission. Usually,
these films were built around stories on the pulp-fiction level of beautiful
Island princesses in sarongs, tribal revolts, volcanic eruptions, and seafaring
heroes, but a few sneaked in more subversive, troubling themes of tropical
paradises despoiled by western greed and disease. One such was Paramount Pictures‘ 1937
production, “Ebb Tide,†based on a novel
by Robert Louis Stevenson and his stepson, Lloyd Osborne. Never released by Paramount on home video,
“Ebb Tide†used to appear occasionally on local TV stations before Late Shows
were edged out by Jack Paar, Johnny Carson, and their successors, but it’s been
largely missing in action in the decades since then. Most people now will identify “Ebb
Tide,†if at all, with the dramatic ballad of the same name, best-remembered
from the 1965 recording by the Righteous Brothers. Ironically, the song was written in 1953 and
has nothing to do with the movie.
In
the Paramount film, Herrick (Ray Milland), Therbecke (Oscar Homolka), and Huish
(Barry Fitzgerald) are three jailbirds in 1890s Tahiti. Herrick is cultured but chronically down on
his luck, Therbecke a disgraced ship’s captain, and Huish a jovial but devious
alcoholic. Stevenson modeled the
characters on real-life drifters and outcasts whom he encountered in the
Pacific islands in the final, far-traveled years of his life. The trio’s aimless existence is disrupted
when a schooner comes into port from San Francisco, bound for Australia with a
cargo of champagne. The captain and the
first mate have died from smallpox, leaving the ship stranded. The authorities try to recruit a captain to
deliver the vessel to its ultimate destination, but fearing that the ship
remains infected, the reputable skippers in town decline to sign on. As a last resort, Therbecke is offered the
job and accepts, appointing Herrick as first mate and Huish as ship’s
steward. Neither man has any maritime
experience, but that doesn’t matter to Therbecke, who doesn’t intend to
complete the assignment anyway. Given an
unexpected opportunity to profit from others’ misfortune, he plans to divert
the ship to Peru, sell its cargo, and pocket the money.
Once
at sea, he makes two unwelcome discoveries. The first is the late captain’s daughter, Faith (Francis Farmer), who
comes out of hiding and insists that Herbecke fulfill her late father’s
obligation. The second discovery is that
the cargo is much less valuable than it appeared to be. Most of the champagne bottles are filled with
water. The late captain, as unscrupulous
as Herbecke, had secretly planned to sink the schooner at sea and collect the
insurance on the invoiced cases of “champagne.†After a storm blows the ship off course, the three partners come across
an island controlled by an American expatriate, Attwater (Lloyd Nolan), who
lives in an elegant bungalow. In short
course, they discover that Attwater is a soft-spoken but trigger-happy
religious zealot who used slave labor to illegally harvest pearls, which now
fill his storehouse. The theme of
epidemic disease reenters, one with its own resonance today. Smallpox has swept through the island and
most of the native laborers have died, leaving only Attwater and three
household servants. “That’s why the
house is empty and the graveyard is full,†he says matter-of-factly. Herrick’s conscience reawakens, and he wants
to get Faith off the island and home to safety. Herbecke and Huish meanwhile conspire to dispose of Attwater and steal
his pearls. Homolka, Nolan, and
especially Fitzgerald are excellent in dark roles that cast all three veteran
actors against type.
The
screenplay makes one concession to formula by adding a new, pivotal character
to Stevenson’s original, all-male story, Francis Farmer’s Faith. Faith provides a conventional love interest
(and eventually, redemption) for Ray Milland’s Herrick. Otherwise, the script follows the bleak novel
almost scene for scene and line for line. This alone should encourage fans of classic fiction and literate scripts
to give “Ebb Tide†a respectful look, not to mention film noir enthusiasts who
will embrace the movie’s morally bankrupt characters, inescapable reversals of
fortune, and pervasive deceptions and betrayals. Unfortunately, mainstream critics and
prospective audiences are unlikely to check out the film since a good, officially
authorized edition doesn’t exist on home video, Netflix, or Amazon. The chances of Paramount stepping up seem
remote to none, given the studio’s apparent indifference to releasing or
licensing the bulk of its older catalog on DVD and Blu-ray. For that matter, has the studio even preserved
the needed elements from which a hi-def print could be digitized, restoring the
“breath-taking Technicolor†promised in Paramount’s 1937 ads and press
book? In the meantime, for the curious,
copies are available on the collector’s market and You Tube.
Apparently
several generations removed from the original prints, they’re watchable but
less than optimal. But they’re what we
have. The YouTube print is posted at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fk6icHLkzl0.
(Fred Blosser is the author of "Sons of Ringo: The Great Spaghetti Western Heroes". Click here to order from Amazon)