Die königliche Jagd auf die Sonne

The first time I saw this flick, I was disappointed; disappointed because I'd expected an adventure tale of King Soloman proportions, an Aladdin's cave full of gold, and bloody Inca battles in a Peruvian jungle setting. In hindsight, I should've read the reviews, because my frame of mind would've been in the right place to enjoy this intense character study. Suffice to say on second viewing, I was able to appreciate the quality of the stage-born dialogue, and the precision with which its delivered by both Shaw and Plummer in their unique portrayals of demi-gods by any other name.

Narratively, it's a detailed snapshot of Pizarro's ill-fated conquest of the Incas, not for the glory of gold, but for the almost sanctimonious obsession with divinity and unparalleled colonialism. In essence, he signed his ticket before he departed Spain, promising the world he could never deliver, pursuing a pathological indulgence to satisfy his superior ego. There's an element of pity in Shaw's depiction of Pizarro, that of a mercenary without a war, unable to adjust to a civilian life. Shaw is magnificent as the deeply righteous conquistador whose eloquence in arguing secular sovereignty, fails to dominate the simple native lexicon of King Atahualpa (Plummer), communicating in a basically nonsensical series of clicks and chirps. If Atahualpa can prove he is a God, Pizarro will recognise his sovereignty, but if not, both his life and his land of rich antiquities will belong to the kingdom of Spain.

With Michael Craig, Leonard Whiting and Nigel Davenport in the wings, it's an ensemble British cast of true quality, and the performances are first rate. Set design, costumes, score and script deliver, and while momentum is at times a distinct challenge, if you're not fully engaged in the dialogue, the result is likely to be languid in pace and voluble in speak. My initial viewing was such; fortunately, I watched it a second time.

In the tradition of Becket comes The Royal Hunt Of The Sun, a piece of important history reduced to a personal struggle between two men. Only these two, Conquistador Francisco Pizarro and Emperor Atahualpa of the Incas have far more in common than they think.

The Royal Hunt Of The Sun was a successful play on Broadway running for 261 performances, written by Peter Shaffer. It won a Tony Award for young David Carradine playing Atahualpa. But in the film version Robert Shaw plays Pizarro and Christopher Plummer who was Pizarro on stage plays Atahualpa. I'm guessing that Plummer's Pizarro was a bit less rough around the edges than Shaw is in the film.

He's certainly a fascinating Atahualpa who like the early emperors of the Roman Empire took divinity unto himself. The problem is that when you're supposed to be a god, you have to occasionally do something really spectacular to prove your claim. That's what kind of undoes Plummer in the end.

As for Pizarro, he never claimed he was anything, not even a gentleman. He was a soldier by profession, an illegitimate kid who raised pigs as a young man and left to join the Spanish army of Emperor Charles V. Atahualpa was also born on the wrong side of the blanket and defeated his brother in a civil war for the Inca Empire. That's a most human act and Pizarro is quick to notice.

He also is a shrewd judge of the Inca psychology. When in that famous event he tricks Atahualpa into captivity, Pizarro realizes the empire built on a godhead emperor can't function without him. The Incas are paralyzed with the fact they're whole belief system is being put to the test and failing badly. Of course in theological discussions with Father Andrew Keir of the expedition, Atahualpa's not doing too bad himself. But these are only academic exercises.

This is not a faithful adaption. The whole scene at Charles V's court with James Donald as the Emperor is written for the screen. A whole lot of peripheral characters have been changed as well. Still the spirit of what author Shaffer was trying to say is realized.

The Royal Hunt Of The Sun is both entertaining and intellectually stimulating.

I'm very lucky: I actually got to view the Scimitar DVD before buying it, and I can't believe how truly awful the product! In my not-so-humble opinion, this is one of the best movies ever made. I know, I know -- pretty talky. But so are many of the best movies ever made. And how this company managed to turn the glorious film I once treasured on BETA format into this scratchy, garbled mess, I have no idea.

So back to my summary: Will anyone ever rescue this fine old film and offer it to us?

Probably not. And that is sad, considering the dreck offered almost on a daily basis.

Producer Phillip Yordan had some pretty tough days in the early 1970s. Yordan was charged with tax evasion, I believe as part of his relationship with Samuel Bronston and Pierre DuPont. Bronston had allegedly comingled Dupont's money on several of his productions (most notably EL CID and FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE). Bronston was finished by the late 1960s and Yordan would fall later, which may explain the erratic production values of BAD MAN'S RIVER and ROYAL HUNT OF THE SUN.

SUN remains, a tattered quasi-masterpiece, despite Christopher Plummer's rather eccentric performance. One wonders what might have been. No matter, what is on display is good enough for the cheap price of the the DVD. Nevertheless, the quality of the DVD leaves much to be desired. The DVD uses a distracting "baby or royal blue" rather than black for its letterboxing. The interlacing is so bad in some sequences, the film is hardly viewable. The sound is uniformly underrecorded. Surely the masters weren't in THIS bad a shape.

Worth a look for students of history AND of good drama.

This film about the downfall of the Inca empire in sixteenth century Peru manages to be deadly dull for the first 35 minutes; even star Robert Shaw (as Pizarro) manages to be boring and glum.

Then Atahualpa, King of the Incas (Christopher Plummer) appears and Plummer shocks the movie back to life. In the process, he gives a lesson on movie-stealing; hissing, prancing, yowling, sniffing, swooping, shrieking, he effectively makes the film His and everyone else is just annoying background noise. Plummer is in his own Universe and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

Even the anti- Vietnam War scene doesn't stop the laughter. It's so badly executed that characters fall before being hit, in two cases without being hit.

As long as Plummer's on screen, this is amusing or, at the very least interesting: without him, it is pretty dull.