Happy 83rd Birthday, Sean Connery!

He's my favorite living actor, and he's retired. It sucks to be going to movies nowadays and not be able to look forward to Sean Connery's next big vehicle. I remember going to see Finding Forrester in theaters in 2000 with my grandfather (a Sean Connery look-a-like) and treasuring it as if that would be a year-long tradition. Then something really horrid called The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen came out 3 years later, and that was it for Sir Connery: He'd had it with Hollywood (thanks a lot, Stephen Norrington!) and was quitting acting. It made me sad to learn he was done. I remember how, from 2006-2007, I mounted a relentless campaign on IMDB in hopes of making sure Connery ended up somehow in the fourth Indiana Jones movie, and how crushed I was when he turned down the offer in favor of continuing his enjoyment of retirement. Interestingly, when he himself finally saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, his opinion of it was right on the money: "Did I see the latest? I thought it was rather good. Rather long."

It's difficult to explain why Connery is my favorite actor. I guess every man wants to be him. Sure, not everything he's said in the past reflects well on men; his pro-slapping comments in that infamous Barbara Walters interview are just painful, though I do at least understand what he was trying to get at. I think the problem with those comments was not so much that he suggested slapping as an approach to insanity, so much as that his comments were directed only at women getting slapped and nobody else. Had he said that it's okay for PEOPLE EVERYWHERE to perhaps get slapped once in awhile in order to get calmed down, his points would have been better-taken, I think.

But enough about slapping.

In honor of the lad's 83rd birthday, I'll list each Connery vehicle I've seen in chronological order and say what I think of each of 'em. There are a lot of goodies here.

Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959)

This was the first Connery movie I ever saw. Which is fitting, since it's the earlier film in his career that I've seen as well. One of Disney's best live-action films (it was directed by Robert Stevenson, who later went on to direct Mary Poppins), it's got leprechauns, big Irish landscapes, a ghoulish banshee and a wonderful lead performance by Albert Sharpe as Darby. As a child, I didn't instantly take a liking to Connery's character, Michael -- perhaps because, hey, I was just jealous that he got to romance someone as hot as Janet Munro. But Connery at the very least earned my respect in the film's climactic bar fight with the oafish Pony Sugrue (Kieron Moore), a fight he initiates by reminiscing about what a leprechaun king once advised him to do: "If I were you, I'd poke the blackguard in the face."

The Longest Day (1962)

Not a fan of this movie, (I once debated its depiction of D-Day with Tom Carson and Craig Simpson), but Connery makes a memorable appearance in one scene, jumping out of a Higgins boat and yelling a goofy line: “Come out, ya dirty slobs! FLANAGAN'S back!”

Dr. No (1962)

What's better than Ursula Andress' mangoes? Sean Connery, in his first appearance as Bond, singing "Underneath the Mango Tree" to get her attention. I actually found this 007 flick pretty forgettable and only saw it once, but the screen sure fires up whenever Connery and Andress are together onscreen.

From Russia with Love (1963)

Another 007 flick I only saw once, but I remember it being one of the better ones. Connery's fight on the train with Red Grant (Robert Shaw) is unforgettable. Shaw and Connery, duking it out... what more testosterone could you ask for in a movie!??

Marnie (1964)

The first great, truly matured performance of Connery's career is his portrayal of the charming, if morally-dubious, Mark Rutland in this: Hitchcock's most fascinating modern movie, if not quite his best. I've seen this movie twice, and each time it messes with my emotions. Connery and Tippi Hedren have amazing chemistry together, but I always feel like a bad person for always been happy that Mark and Marnie end up together. For one thing, Mark cures Marnie of her insanity by basically raping her as a form of shock treatment -- which, for all we know, he probably enjoys. It's all the more troubling when you think about Connery's comments in the Barbara Walters interview. Knowing how much trouble he got into by suggesting slapping as an antidote to insanity, imagine how fast his career would've sank if he had suggested rape -- that's what Hitchcock seems to be doing in this movie, after all. Whatever you think of Marnie, it sure does encourage interesting discussion.

Goldfinger (1964)

Naturally, this is the Connery 007 flick that I've watched the most. Some say it's his best. Some even say it's the best 007 flick of them all. Can we all at least agree that it's pretty damned good? Under the direction of Guy Hamilton (John Huston's assistant director on The African Queen), this is the movie that proved the 007 series was worth continuing. Roger Ebert's Great Movies piece is a must-read.

The Hill (1964)

When I reviewed this film for the blog 3 years ago, it took all my strength to watch it twice. It's quite simply the most harrowing movie about the military ever made. If Hitchcock was the one who proved that Connery could be a subtle antihero, then Sidney Lumet was the one who proved that Connery was an actor with Oscar-calibur talents. He could convincingly play a character pushed over the edge into madness. This movie is in my school library, and I'd watch it for the sake of Sidney Lumet (RIP), but I'm afraid to revisit it. It's intense.

Thunderball (1965)

When I watched this 007 flick as a preteen, I liked it; when I tried watching it again in college, I turned it off after the first half hour. It's duller than I remember.

You Only Live Twice (1967)

As for this 007 flick, the only thing I remember about it was that the opening scene was set in space. That's it. I remember nothing else. Not even this^^ scene, which you would think would stick in a teenager's memory. Guess not.

Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

On certain days, this, not Goldfinger, is my favorite 007 flick. A lot of 007 fans hate it and say it's one of Connery's worst outings in the series; I say such fans are nuts. This movie is just-plain fun. And no wonder: Guy Hamilton came back from Goldfinger to direct it. It's dopey, but so what? You could hardly ask for a more entertaining Bond. Bruce Cabot from King Kong has a memorable death scene, sausage-king Jimmy Dean is there to witness it (Bert Saxby!?? Tell him he's fired!), Jill St. John is a hot Bond girl... but seriously: it's all about Plenty O'Toole (Lana Wood) and Connery's witty reply to her introduction: "But of course you are."

Zardoz (1974)

I could just feel my own manly code of honor being threatened when I first saw this movie as a teenager. "Goddamn it John Boorman," I thought, "you do NOT make Sean Connery run around in a movie wearing nothing but a red speedo!" I was very disgusted by the whole thing as a teenager, but once I reached college age, I caught parts of it again on the Fox Movie Channel and found myself  enjoying it in all its ludicrousness. I'd watch it again in a heartbeat, if only so I could appreciate it more.

Murder on the Orient Express (1974)

This was the first Sidney Lumet movie I ever saw -- following his Lifetime Achievement Oscar -- and probably not the best introduction to the man's career as a director, let alone his collaborations with Connery. I remember being bored stupid by it. I don't know if I'd appreciate it more today, but I doubt it; it's weak tea compared to what Connery and Lumet achieved with The Hill. And in retrospect, the twist ending is fairly predictable. I do remember liking Albert Finney's portrayal of Poirot, though.

The Wind and the Lion (1975)

Every time I see this movie, I admire parts of it but am largely disappointed in its bad pacing, its lack of focus and squandered opportunities. Connery's portrayal of the Raisuli is magnificent, but the movie surrounding him is not; John Milius missed a huge opportunity by not making the heart of the film the similarities between the Raisuli and Teddy Roosevelt (Brian Keith), a la The Godfather Part II. Instead, the film alternates uncomfortably from Roosevelt's scenes in the White House to scenes of implied romance between Connery and Candice Bergen that finally never quite blossom into anything meaningful. The battle sequence are well-done, there's a witty cameo by John Huston, and this is probably Milius' most interesting title as a director... but that's not saying much.

The Man Who Would Be King (1975)

Okay. This might very well be the greatest of all of Connery's films. Not necessarily his best performance, but arguably the best movie he ever starred in. Few directors make films this exciting, this beautiful very late in his careers, but that's exactly what John Huston accomplished with The Man Who Would Be King: silence his most ferocious critics and effectively ending years of his own bad box-office luck with a grand, sweeping Hollywood masterpiece. This movie has everything. Adventure. Fortune. Glory. Tragedy. Connery's Danny Dravot and Michael Caine's Peachy Carnehan are two of the most appealing characters ever to lead a Hollywood movie. The chemistry between these two stars is unbelievable. Their adventures are breathtaking. Their downfall is devastating. John Milius could've learned a thing or two from his old mentor Huston about how to balance spectacle with emotion; maybe then, The Wind and the Lion would have been somewhere near the high level of this film. When Connery, as Danny, takes that finally walk across the bridge, you just want to cry out for him. A classic.

A Bridge Too Far (1977)

Forgettable. I saw this on AMC years ago, and AMC is probably not the best channel to watch a long war movie, but this movie isn't much. I don't really remember Connery's scenes. I like Richard Attenborough, but I wish he and Connery could've worked together on something a little more fruitful.

The Great Train Robbery (1978)

People never talk about this movie today, but I think it's underrated. Good old-fashioned fun, with memorable rapport between Connery and Donald Sutherland. I haven't seen it since I was a teenager and if I watched it today, I might find it less-interesting, but it's certainly entertaining, and the fact that Michael Crichton (yes, that Michael Crichton) directed it is no small feat in itself. My favorite scene is when Connery is put on trial, and is asked by the judges why he would ever do such a foolish thing as rob a train. His deadpanned response: "I... wanted the money."

Time Bandits (1981)

Not being the biggest Terry Gilliam fan, I only saw this once, but I remember liking Connery's scenes as King Agamemnon... whatever they were.

Five Days One Summer (1982)

Fred Zinnemann's majestic final film is one that I plan to write about for this blog someday -- hopefully, real soon, if I can clear enough time for myself. This film was a huge flop when it came out, and it's obvious that after Zinnemann's death in 1997, people essentially stopped talking about it and Warner Bros. never even bothered to give it a DVD release in the U.S. I don't want to go into too much detail, because I'm sure I'll save it all for a future review, but to put it briefly: This is one of my favorite movies, flaws and all. Zinnemann somehow makes characters out of mountains. The main storyline involves a dubious relationship between Connery's Douglas and Betsy Brantley's Kate, and Lambert Wilson plays the young mountain-climbing guide who grows suspicious of them, but ultimately Zinnemann orchestrates a message that the personal problems of three people don't really amount to a hill of beans up in the Alps. Some of the mountain-climbing sequences are truly terrifying. As he did in Marnie, Connery plays a control freak of young women, but this time, such macho tendecies are actually taken to task instead of glorified. I really do hope this film will eventually get the respect it deserves; Zinnemann poured so much of his heart and soul into it, and Connery, too.

Never Say Never Again (1983)

Diehard 007 fans hate this movie even more than Diamonds Are Forever, but for me, it's always been a guilty pleasure. It's a remake of Thunderball, but way more entertaining thanks to Irvin Kershner's solid direction; if he doesn't quite bring as much grace to this movie as he did to The Empire Strikes Back, well, no matter. It's still a lot of fun. There's something amusing about seeing an aging Connery romancing Kim Basinger. And don't even get me started on Fatima Blush (Barbara Carrera), who might've been the first villainous femme fatale I ever became infatuated with as a preteen.

The Name of the Rose (1986)

Here it is, folks: My pick for Connery's best performance ever. He plays William of Baskerville, the most badass monk who ever lived. I haven't read the Umberto Eco novel this is based on, but I trust that Jean-Jacques Annaud and Gerard Brach knew what they were doing by streamlining it down into a dark, gory, sexy, compelling, masterfully-done thriller. This is another one I hope to write about for the blog someday, although -- unlike Five Days One Summer -- it's actually developed a pretty healthy cult following, probably because of the sex scene between Valentina Vargas and a young Christian Slater. Which is part of the movie's appeal, no doubt. But this movie is all about Connery. He dominates. Deservedly, he won a British Academy Award for it. William of Baskerville might be the role which (other than 007) he was born to play.

The Untouchables (1987)

This is an effortlessly-watchable movie and I've seen it probably half-a-dozen times, but it's not one of my favorite Connery vehicles -- or even one of my favorite Brian De Palma films. The limits and conventions of the David Mamet script keep it from being the powerful mob picture it could've been. Still, as an action movie, it's rock-solid, and Connery is one hell of a great Jimmy Malone. Some people say the Academy Award he won for his performance was a career Oscar, which may be true, but that doesn't mean it was undeserved.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

Unsurprisingly, this is the Connery movie I've watched the most, and I never tire of it. I'd recommend you watch it, but let's face it: you already have. Henry Jones is a tailor-made part for somebody with Connery's sensibilities. "I suddenly remembered my Charlemagne. 'Let my armies be the rocks and the trees and the birds in the sky'."

The Hunt for Red October (1990)

One of the best genre pictures of the 90's. The pleasant thing about The Hunt for Red October is that even though it's anti-Communist, it is not anti-Russian; the portrayal of Connery's Ramius is sympathetic, and one can enjoy the movie without Tom Clancy's right-wing politics getting in the way. Part of this is due to John McTiernan's careful, professional direction. If you listen to his DVD commentary during Ramius's confrontation with the ship's political officer, McTiernan mentions the pained expression on Connery's face when, as Ramius, he's going to have to murder the political officer for the sake of his mission to defect to the U.S. Any doubts about Connery playing a Russian are automatically forgotten once the movie begins. He disappears remarkably into the role.

The Russia House (1990)

I read the John le Carre book before watching this, and although it takes certain liberties with the text, I remember being very happy with it. Just as he did with his adaptation of Thomas Keneally's The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith, director Fred Schepisi cuts right to the chase -- in this case, the love story between Connery's Barley Blair and Michelle Pfeiffer's Katya. Unlike the book, this movie has a happy ending, but was done in such a way that I found myself wanting it to end happily, which, I suppose, shows how involved I was. An underrated, under-appreciated gem.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Probably the most gratuitous last-minute cameo in a movie ever, but it's impossible to imagine this fun movie without it. Come to think of it, I wish director Kevin Reynolds had worked with Connery on another movie; Connery certainly would have been a more effective lead in Waterworld than Kevin Costner. Come to think of it, he would have been a better Robin Hood in *this* movie than Costner; I say this knowing Connery already played Robin Hood in the earlier Richard Lester movie from the 70's, which I haven't seen in its entirety.

Medicine Man (1992)

I rented this once when I was a preteen, and don't remember much about it except that Connery played some environmental activist who got into fights with people threatening the rain forest. I know it was a huge flop and that critics didn't take it seriously, but I couldn't tell you why. I would kind of like to revisit it, since it was another collaboration between Connery and John McTiernan, and because at the time I saw the movie, I didn't know who Lorraine Bracco was (Goodfellas was a few years away in my future), and her performance had made no impression on me for that reason. Or maybe it was because her performance wasn't good. Or maybe even Connery's. I don't know.

Just Cause (1995)

Awful movie. It starts off with a great scene between Connery and Ruby Dee that makes you think it's going to be a film stressing an anti-death penalty message, which it does for awhile -- that is, until its atrocious conclusion, when it decides to go for a Witness for the Prosecution-style twist ending instead. There's something uncomfortable about a movie that champions the execution of black criminals, especially considering that this movie was released around the time of the O.J. Simpson trial. Connery is fine, as are Laurence Fishburne and Ed Harris in supporting roles, but Kate Capshaw probably gives the worst performance of her career as Connery's wife. Interestingly, a very young Scarlett Johanson plays their daughter.

First Knight (1995)

Gee whiz, 1995 sure wasn't a good year for Connery, was it? As always, he gives a good performance -- in this case, he's King Arthur -- and Julia Ormond is fine as Guinevere, but Richard Gere as Lancelot is the very definition of the term MISCASTING. What annoys me about this movie is the mockery it makes of the Arthurian legend. Yes, Lancelot and Guinevere had an affair, but in the original tale, they were all roughly the same age; in this movie, Jerry Zucker stacks the decks against the character of King Arthur from the moment he cast somebody of Connery's age. Basically, Zucker implies that Guinevere's affair with Lancelot happened not because Lancelot seduced her, but because Arthur comes across to her like a tired, sexless old man by comparison (more like a father to her than a husband). At any rate, I probably wouldn't have minded so much if Lancelot in this movie had been just as appealing as Arthur. But that's where the problem of casting Gere came in. He simply doesn't hold a candle to Connery.

Dragonheart (1996)

What's more awesome than Sean Connery as a dragon? Not a whole lot. Watching this movie, it sounds like he was having a lot of fun providing the voice for the dragon Draco; when Dennis Quaid's character sneers that he kills dragons "for pleasure," you can just hear Connery's wicked delight in Draco's response: "Perhaps less pleasurable and more costly than you THINK!" Dopey, but enjoyable entertainment.

The Rock (1996)

Probably the only Michael Bay movie I can sit through, even if I don't care much for it. "Your best!?? Losers always whine about their 'best'. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen!"

Entrapment (1999)

Although this was only the second Connery movie that I ever saw, after Darby O'Gill and the Little People -- yes I saw it before any of his 007 flicks -- this is without question the movie that made me a Sean Connery fan. I guess what drew me to his performance in Entrapment was the way his character, Mac, comes across; apparently, even when you reach your 60's, you can still be charming enough to romance a sexy babe like Catherine Zeta-Jones. And seriously: talk about the most random screen couple in modern times. Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones!?? Amazingly, their chemistry in this movie absolutely works thanks to Jon Amiel's assured direction. He makes the movie all about Connery and Zeta-Jones' characters, Mac and Gin, how they're constantly double-crossing each other and then simultaneously falling for each other. Count this as another movie that I plan to review someday for this blog, if I ever have time. And remember: "Rule #2: Never trust a naked woman."

Finding Forrester (2000)

Growing up as a teenager, this was one of my favorite movies; I watched it again recently, and it's held up pretty well. In retrospect, it's probably not one of Gus Van Sant's greatest films; it follows the exact same formula of Good Will Hunting and lacks the fire and energy of Drugstore Cowboy and Milk. F. Murray Abraham essentially plays the same bad guy to Connery's good guy that he played in The Name of the Rose, but this time the villainy is heavy-handed, his character far too racist and over-the-top to be truly believable. But what finally makes this movie work is the camaraderie between Connery and Rob Brown, who I've always said would make a great Jim in a Huckleberry Finn remake. You really do believe Jamal Wallace would go to somebody like William Forrester for writing advice, and quotable Internet memes aside ("Punch the keys, for God's sake! Yes... YES!!!!! YOU'RE THE MAN NOW, DAWG!"), this movie inspires me to want to write more often. Considering what he did afterward, it doesn't mean much to say it, but this was Connery's last top-notch achievement as an actor.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)

I missed this in theaters, and never did realize how lucky I was until I saw it on DVD. It's such a mess of a movie, with not a lot going on in terms of story and even less in terms of characterization. Which is a true shame, since Connery is really quite a good Alan Quatermain. If only they had built a meaningful film around his performance. This movie fails for a number of reasons. The plot is incomprehensible. The literary adaptations are laughable. Tom Sawyer, action hero? Dorian Gray, invincible as long as he doesn't see his own painting? It's like no thought went into any of it. Before this movie, Connery reportedly turned down The Matrix and The Lord of the Rings for not "understanding them," but then chose to be in this movie despite not "understanding" it, either. Yeah... that's because *nobody* did. A waste of money, waste of talent, and especially, a waste of time for Connery. Working with director Stephen Norrington allegedly pissed Connery off so much that it made him quit acting in movies for good, and the fact that this was his last movie is painful on so many levels.

Sir James Bond: From Russia With Love (2006) - Video Game

I never beat this video game, but I remember having fun playing it until getting to a super-hard level in which you're supposed to steer a boat underground without getting shot. Connery was brought back to be the voice of Bond, and although he clearly doesn't have the voice of the strapping young man he once was, it was good to hear him as Bond one last time. Particularly his delivery of a key line that was used in the original movie: "Things are turning up rather nicely."

STILL REALLY NEED TO SEE:

A Fine Madness (1966)
The Molly Maguires (1970)
The Anderson Tapes (1971)
The Offence (1972)
Robin and Marian (1976)
Cuba (1979)
Outland (1981)
Wrong Is Right (1982)
Highlander (1986)
Family Business (1989)
Rising Sun (1993)

Happy 83rd Birthday, Sean Connery. If you can, please return to Hollywood for at least one more movie. A good one, this time. You're the man now, dawg.

The Hill (1965)

There is a stunning scene in Sidney Lumet’s The Hill (1965) in which Joe Roberts (Sean Connery) and Sergeant Major Bert Wilson (Harry Andrews) bark at each other in the middle of a military detention camp, and it is the single greatest moment of acting in a film that is full of dozens of splendid acting moments. Roberts has only been in prison for a week, but he has already had his foot broken and his face beaten senselessly—yet the ruthless Sergeant Major Wilson is still punishing him, still forcing him to double out in the hot sun. Wilson tries to convince Roberts that it is only for the best. “Discipline!” he shouts. “The army’s run on discipline!” But Roberts has seen too much military abuse in his day, and he will not give in to “discipline” any more.

He’s in jail, actually, precisely because of his disillusionment with what the army has become. With tears in his eyes, he tells Wilson like it is: “I’m a regular soldier because I couldn’t get a bloody job in civvy street! But I was a good toy clockwork soldier—just like you are!” The argument between Roberts and Wilson becomes so heated, in fact, that at one point they both realize that the whole camp has fallen silent. Everybody is staring at them. Wilson, embarrassed, yells at everybody to get back to work. Then he turns to Roberts, and declares that he’s going to push him to the limit, and make him do whatever he’s damn well told until he is reformed into something the army can be proud of.

I have seen many antiwar dramas, many prison flicks and many POW movies, but The Hill is a film that has stayed with me. It could very well be the most painful film I have ever seen from any of those genres. And I’ve seen LeRoy's I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang, Kubrick’s Paths of Glory, Lean's The Bridge on the River Kwai and Stuart Rosenberg’s Cool Hand Luke—all fantastic pictures that smack you silly whenever you watch them, but The Hill just seems to hit the hardest. Some will find it a chore to sit through. Personally, I think it’s an easier film to sit through on a second viewing, but of course that was because I knew what to expect, and knew when the most blistering sequences were coming. One thing’s for sure: I would hate to have to have done time at this camp.

The Hill takes place in a British Army detention camp located in the Libyan Desert during WWII, where the soldiers are doing time for a various set of reasons. King (Ossie Davis), a black man from the West Indies, is in jail for stealing (and drinking) bottles of whiskey. Bartlett (Roy Kinnear) sold car tires to the enemy. McGrath (Jack Watson) got in a fight with the police. And Stevens (Alfred Lynch) is a deserter, obviously not cut out for fighting, who only wanted to get home to his wife. When King, Bartlett, McGrath, Stevens and Roberts first step into the camp, Lumet shows us two soldiers who are triumphantly walking out: relieved to have survived, they shake hands and hug. They are first seen walking up “the hill” in the two-and-a-half minute opening crane shot. Soon, Roberts and his four cellmates will find themselves doubling up and down this sandy hill.

Roberts sees his punishment as a mishandling of justice. He’s doing time because he assaulted a commanding officer who ordered him and his men on a suicide mission that ended in disaster. His memories are eating him alive, and he is bitter about failing to save his men. None of them came back alive. Now he is in prison for fighting for what he believed in, kept under the watchful eye of both the Sergeant Major Wilson and a new staff sergeant, Williams (Ian Hendry), who sees his new job as an opportunity to torment prisoners, rather than reform them. When Wilson tells Williams about Roberts’ rebellious past, Williams immediately makes it a point for himself to abuse Roberts at every chance he gets. “The court martial broke you, but I’m gonna finish the job,” he growls at Roberts. “I’m gonna bust you wide open.” Roberts is unmoved: “I’ve got your number. You’d work as a dustman if they gave you a uniform and a couple of men to yell at.”

As in other prison films, the men find little ways to revolt against the staff. There is a wonderful sequence in which Roberts, sick and tired of doubling up and down the hill, sits down for a break; staff sergeants are ordered to douse him with water, and in defiance he takes a shovel and counter-douses the staff with wet sand, inspiring the other four men to do the same. For one glorious moment, Roberts and his cellmates own the hill, and are rolling around in the sand like schoolboys. And there’s the later scene in which King, aggravated at Sergeant Wilson’s constant racial slurs, throws a tantrum, rips his uniform to pieces (“This is what I think of British justice!”) and parades around the camp in his underwear.

In effect, the entire camp has a chance at rebellion in the wake of the death of Stevens, who fatally ends up a victim of Williams’ harassment: first Williams forces Stevens to double up the hill twice in a row, and then he forces him to double up the hill all by himself while wearing a gas mask. No human being could handle such agonizing pressure. There is a sad scene in which Stevens, clearly on the verge of a physical and mental breakdown and about to be doubled yet again by Williams, turns to Roberts in a last desperate attempt for help. “Please Joe, make him leave me alone,” he cries. “Please help me. I can’t take it any more.” In this beautiful moment, Roberts possibly sees in Stevens one of the men he failed to save on his suicide mission—and Williams, who stands back and grins at Stevens’ suffering, is the controlling commanding officer. But when Stevens finally collapses and dies in his cell, everybody--including Roberts--is laughing at him.

Stevens' death inspires the best-remembered sequence in the whole film, all of the camp's prisoners, enraged by Stevens’ death and demanding to know how he died, are all let out of their cells at once, banging their mess tins and chanting, “Stevens! Stevens!” It is here when Roberts and his three remaining cellmates rise to the occasion and join in the chant. Then Sergeant Major Wilson intervenes, and tries to change the subject by cracking jokes with the prisoners about smoking contests and promising them cheese for lunch, while at the same time threatening to charge “every fifth man” with mutiny if they don’t quit complaining about Stevens’ death. A staff guard asks him if the staff should bring out guns to coerce the prisoners, and Wilson retorts, “Where the hell do you think you are? CHICAGO?” What is terrifying about this sequence is that Wilson is seen as charismatic and as somebody loved by the prisoners despite the fact that he is the true villain of the film: Williams may be the one carrying out the brutal orders, but Wilson is the one who is actually giving them.

Roberts suspects that Stevens died as a result of abusive pressure at Williams’ hands, but only King is willing to back him up on the accusation. Bartlett, like a real coward, refuses to talk and presses the staff to get him transferred to another cell, while McGrath won’t talk simply because he sees the situation as hopeless. “We’re inside, Sergeant Major—inside!” he privately confesses to Roberts. “And the bloody world doesn’t give a damn! We’re the horrible 2%, the dodgy boys, the spivs, the cowards, the thieves! We’re the weak chain in the system!”

What Roberts does not know is that Harris (Ian Bannen), perhaps the only good-hearted staff sergeant working at the camp, is willing to rat out on Williams; when Roberts and King turn out to be the only ones willing to testify against Williams to the camp’s Commandant (Norman Bird), Harris decides to pitch in. This results in a hilarious scene in which King barges into the Commandant’s office in his underwear and “recommends this brand” of cigarettes, to the Commandant’s bafflement. What’s more funny is that the Commandant, who is seen in earlier scenes romancing a fat wife in bed, is fairly stupid, and doesn’t catch on until late that there has been a recent death at the camp. “Who died?” he asks in stupefied confusion (“GEORGE STEVENS!” King screams).

As was Lumet’s intent, the film echoes with a stinging sense of realism. “The physical hardship of the actual shooting is something that coincides with the physical hardship that’s necessary for the film”, he told an interviewer on the set, “and through it all--the caked sands, the windstorms going on while we were shooting, the cracks in the lips--those were all for real.” Working from a screenplay by Ray Rigby (based on his play, which was co-written with R.S. Allen), Lumet tries to capture as much of these “hardships” in the film as possible.

In the scene where Roberts and Wilson are yelling at each other, for example, we can feel their frustration and their impatience; Roberts calls Wilson a “crazy bastard” and adds, “you’d prop up dead men and inspect them if you was ordered to!” Then Wilson barks back, “Right! You’re RIGHT!” This is when we realize that Wilson is exactly what Roberts has accused him of being: a toy clockwork soldier, irrationally determined to follow orders and ensure that orders are followed. As the film is rolling towards a close, Wilson and Williams try to blackmail the camp’s doctor (Sir Michael Redgrave) into admitting that he was the one who passed Stevens as healthy enough for punishment, but this attempt drops with a thud, and Wilson, who previously is seen roaring at the top of his lungs (“In twenty-five years, I’ve never known a balls-up like it!”), is now seen with egg on his face. “I run this place! Me!” he pathetically mutters. “I say what goes and what don’t go!” He even feels the need to say this twice. It does him no good.

The film was made in the same year Lumet directed Rod Steiger in The Pawnbroker, and illuminated him as a filmmaker well on his way to becoming one of America’s greatest filmmakers--a reputation he would finally achieve in the 70’s and 80’s. Sean Connery had worked with Hitchcock on Marnie a year earlier, and with his performance in The Hill he continued to prove himself a terrific actor and not just a “fun” actor as evidenced in Darby O’Gill and the Little People (1959) or in the 007 pictures; he would work with Lumet again on The Anderson Tapes (1971), The Offence (1973), Murder on the Orient Express (1974) and Family Business (1989).

Of the rest of the cast, Michael Redgrave, as the timid camp doctor, is a long way away from his heroic train passenger in Hitchcock’s The Lady Vanishes (1938). Roy Kinnear will probably be a familiar face to modern-day audiences as Veruka Salt’s spoiling father in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971), and seeing him as the doughy, whiny soldier in this film will show a side of him not as well known. It’s a real pleasure to see Ossie Davis in one of his younger roles, and there’s also something oddly creepy about his manic King character, who may or may not have grown up to be something like the Bible-quoting patriach who shoots his crack-addicted son dead in Spike Lee’s Jungle Fever (1991). As for Harry Andrews, who worked earlier with John Huston on Moby Dick and The Mackintosh Man, his performance here is menacing to the extreme, and it scares the hell out of me.

Watching The Hill, I was surprised at how much the film moved me to take sides. It’s appalling for staff sergeants to treat prisoners in a military detention camp this way, and by the end of the film I was ready to see either Wilson or Williams get their brains bashed in. Sure enough, it is Williams who finally gets his just desserts. But Lumet is too wise a filmmaker to immaturely glorify Williams’ death, and instead looks upon it with unease. “Don’t touch him!” Roberts pleads to King and McGrath, as they prepare to knock Williams dead. “We’ve won! YOU’LL MUCK IT UP!” But by then, it’s too late.

The best Lumet films (Dog Day Afternoon, Network, The Verdict, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead) have a way of punishing characters who are essentially good people. And as he did with those films-- and as he does with The Hill-- Lumet proves that sometimes what the audience wants for the characters can, in fact, be the worst punishment of all.