By Lee Pfeiffer
When it opened in 1970, director Lewis Gilbert's film version of Harold Robbins' best-seller The Adventurers was reviewed by New York Times, which referred to the production as "a spectacular blast-furnace lulu of human waste". Indeed, Gilbert himself said of the film a few years ago that it was "terrible" and that he regretted having been involved with it. With such a reputation, it's no wonder that even retro movie lovers such as myself have never made the effort to watch the movie. However, the Warner Archive has just re-issued Paramounts original DVD release of the film and, upon receiving the screener, I had enough morbid curiosity to give it a try. How, after all, could a film by a major director and featuring a big all-star cast go so completely wrong? The answer is: it didn't. The Adventurers is not high art, but it doesn't deserve its place in the Razzie book of ten worst films of all time. The worst that can be said of it is that it is a relentlessly downbeat affair that goes on for three hours with nary an iota of humor or anything, in fact, to relieve the consistent depiction of human suffering. At times, it makes Sophie's Choice look like It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Gilbert, who had recently come off the double-barreled successes of Alfie and You Only Live Twice, had envisioned directing the screen adaptation of Oliver! When that project went to Carol Reed, he ended up with The Adventurers.
The movie opens with an unsettling sequence set in a fictional South American country (it was filmed in Colombia). A young boy named Dax Xenos watches in horror while a group of soldiers invades his family compound and systematically rape and kill all of the women, including his mother and sister. Dax barely escapes and rescues his friend, a girl Amparo. Together they survive an arduous trek across the desert and are reunited witih Dax's father (Fernando Rey) who is a prominent rebel leader trying to depose the nation's dictator. Ultimately the rebels win and install a new leader, General Rojo (Alan Badel), who promises to initiate democracy but who proves to be as ruthless and greedy as his predecessor. (The parallels to Castro are probably no coincidental). Dax's father is named a prominent diplomat and over the years, the two become closer than ever. With Dax now a handsome young man and playboy, he is thrust into the political limelight when his father is assassinated, ostensibly by rebels now trying to oust Rojos, but in reality the command was given by Rojos himself. The story traces Dax's rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches life as he tries to preoccupy himself by opening up a fashion studio with some old friends. However, he is repeatedly drawn to efforts to oust Rojos back in his home country. He ultimately uses his social contacts among the rich and famous to raise capital to finance arms to the guerrillas and ultimately ends up helping to lead a massive assault on the presidential compound. Intermingled with these action sequences, we follow Dax's busy love life as he romances rich cougars (Olivia De Havilland among them) and enters an ill-suited marriage with the world's richest young woman (Candice Bergen.) Dax, who is nominally the hero of this film, comes across as a cad. When his wife suffers a miscarriage in an accident and finds she can no longer bare children, he basically says, "Adios" and goes on his lustful way to find other women. He eventually is reunited with Amparo (Leigh-Taylor Young), who is the daughter of Rojos. The two have an on-again, off-again affair. (Only Harold Robbins or Sidney Sheldon could envision such complicated love lives).
The three hour movie is consistently engrossing and the locations, which include Rome and New York, are exotic, to say the least. This was one hell of an expensive production and it must have originally been envisioned for a road show release (it has an intermission.) The battle scenes are massive in scale and superbly staged and the entire film is stunningly photographed by the great Claude Renoir. The music by Antonio Carlos Jobim is also an impressive asset. Bekim Fehmiu, who was then a largely unknown Yugoslavian actor who was plucked from obscurity, meets the physical requirements of the role in that he has a calendar model's good looks and appears very Bondian in a tuxedo. Critics called his performance wooden and dull but he is supposed to be playing a man so scarred by boyhood traumas that he finds it almost impossible to show overt emotion. A film of this magnitude certainly called out for a major star in the lead role, so Fehmiu's lack of clout with audiences clearly hurt the boxoffice potential. However, there are any number of other good actors in supporting roles including Ernest Borgnine (very good as Dax's only true friend), the aforementioned Ms. De Havilland and Bergen, Charles Aznavour, Rosanno Brazzi, Leigh-Taylor Young, John Ireland and the always great Fernando Rey. (Even 007's Miss Moneypenny, Lois Maxwell, shows up in a blink-and-you'll-miss-her cameo.) Gilbert's direction is assured and and he keeps the lengthy story running at a fast enough pace that there is nary a dull moment.
The Adventurers doesn't represent anything like the best films of its era. However, it is also not the shameful mess even its director has labeled it as. Huge in scope and featuring rich production values, the movie has some shots that feature enough extras to rival Cleopatra. It's a pretty grim affair throughout but retro movie fans should ignore conventional wisdom and form their own opinions about its overall merits. Recommended.
The Warner Archive DVD features an excellent transfer but no bonus extras.