BY LEE PFEIFFER
The widescreen "roadshow" films of the 1950s were so profitable that studios kept grinding out prestigious productions in hopes of making the next "Ben-Hur" or "The Ten Commandments". However, the sad truth is that more of these mega-budget spectacles tended to lose money than fill the studio coffers with profits. Indeed, some films that might have made money if they were shot as standard budget productions ended up being elongated to fill the running time of a roadshow presentation. One such film was director John Sturges' "The Hallelujah Trail", a visually sweeping production released in the Ultra 70 Panavision process and marketed under the banner of a Cinerama movie. (By then, the traditional 3-panel, multi-projector presentation process had been simplified, making such films easier to shoot and screen to audiences.) The story was based on a comedic novel by William Gulick. In addition to the prestige Sturges brought to production, an impressive cast was signed up by United Artists with Burt Lancaster getting top billing. However, Lancaster was dragooned into doing the film as part of financial commitments he owed the studio stemming from losses incurred by his own production company. Consequently, he had to make multiple films for United Artists at the bargain rate of $150,000 per picture. Lancaster was said to be in a rather foul mood during production and the mood was only dampened by the death of a stuntman during a wagon chase, a tragedy that cast a pall over the production.
The story is set in 1867 when the boom town of Denver is going through a crisis. It seems the local miners are rapidly depleting the local supply of whiskey. If they can't get a new shipment, they will have to suffer through the approaching winter months in a dry town until deliveries can resume in the spring. It's decided to make a bold gesture by hiring whiskey magnate Frank Wallingham (Brian Keith) to form a wagon train to deliver the booze to Denver. However, this requires traveling through landscapes controlled by hostile Indians. Thus, Wallingham uses his political connections to ensure that a U.S. Cavalry detachment is sent to meet the wagon train and escort them to Denver. That job falls to Col. Thaddeus Gearhart (Lancaster), who is non too pleased about having his men act as personal bodyguards for a profit-making enterprise. Adding to his woes is the arrival of Cora Templeton Massingale (Lee Remick), a noted feminist and leader of an all-female temperance movement. Cora and her followers insist on accompanying the cavalry unit so they can attempt to dissuade Wallingham from delivering the whiskey. Gearhart is a widower who is trying to raise a sexually precocious teenager daughter, Louise (Pamela Tiffin), who is romantically involved with Capt. Paul Slater (Jim Hutton), a key member of her father's unit. The situation worsens when Louise becomes a convert to Cora's cause. The reed-thin plot line involves all sorts of chaos and slapstick that occurs when the cavalry, temperance protestors and attacking Indians all converge with the wagon train in a big shoot-out in the desert.
"The Hallelujah Trail" is a perfect example of a movie that would make for a suitably entertaining 90-minute comedy. In fact, Sturges did just that with the 1962 Rat Pack western "Sergeants 3". However, it is packed with padding in order to justify its length as a Cinerama production. Consequently, scenes and repetitive comedic situations drag on endlessly. (The filmmakers are were so desperate that a joke involving Cora surprising Gearhart in his bathtub is reversed when he surprises her in her bathtub.) By the time the intermission comes, the battle in the desert (in which thousands of shots are fired without anyone being injured) is the cinematic equivalent of a sleep aid.
"The Hallelujah Trail" isn't an awful film, just overblown. The actors perform gamely throughout and there is a marvelous supporting cast, among which Donald Pleasence shines as a phony oracle who reads fortunes in return for booze and Brian Keith is marvelous grumpy as the whiskey magnate. The usually reliable Martin Landau, however, is saddled with the role of a comically drunken Indian that is literally cringe-inducing to watch. There is a wonderful score and title theme by Elmer Bernstein and cinematographer Robert Surtees impressively captures the magnificent landscapes.
Ordinarily, Olive Films produces very admirable Blu-ray product but they missed the boat on this one. The most charitable description of the transfer is "disappointing", though the average viewer might find it acceptable. Those with more discriminating standards will find it awful. The aspect ratio is wrong and the quality is little better than the old DVD releases. If you're watching it on a large screen, it's even more painful, with washed-out colors and a soft focus look that is quite truly below Olive's generally high standards. The film is no classic so Olive probably went with the best available elements but if this was the case, they should have considered deferring the release of the movie on Blu-ray. Despite the interesting back story, there is no commentary track. In fact, there are no bonus extras except the overture, intermission and a trailer that is so unspeakably bad that one suspects it was transferred from VHS. We rarely say this, but let the buyer beware. Our advice: skip the Blu-ray and make due with the DVD until a more promising release comes along.
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