Barcos satánicos

Malta is its usual stunning self in this cinematically beautiful film. Why was it not filmed wide? What irritates me is the overly strong U.S. asserter officer shouting at the Brits to do something.

James Franciscus and Elizabeth Shepherd's relationship is ludicrously overblown and misconstructed. Sorry, filmmakers but the silly introduction where she is "starkers" and swimming and flaunts herself at him is priceless. She is so forward and up for IT, it's not true yet her acts all gallant and appears only mildly stirred... It's so awkward - it's clear she is says "Come on bog boy!" with everything she has but he is only modestly aroused. Oh you have to see it to understand it.

I find this film is embarrassing. It's full of bristly macho-ness and "U.S. attitudes will shake up the Brits and sort 'em out" and the Brits deference is bordering on obsequious.

A good story with weak characters. Elizabeth Shepherd is gorgeous and acts strongly but a poor story and and weak direction diminish what could have been a great part.

I hate giving bad reviews but this film seems to come from a time when studios squashed good film-making in the process of simply creating star vehicles and it makes it very difficult for me to watch it happily.

The real star of the film though is Malta.

The usual uninspired rehash of 60's war movies like 'The Guns of Navarone' and '633 Squadron' detailing the usual raid on an impregnable fortress with lousy special effects and lots of preliminary talk before the climactic gunplay against the backdrop of the island of Malta.

As usual the hero is American (we're told his mother was English). Although it's set in 1942, a wholly wasted Elizabeth Shepherd wears her hair swept back in an elegant sixties mane as the unhappily married chainsmoking commanding officer's wife who dallies with blond hunk James Franciscus before he sets off to kill a few Nazis. (When I saw Ms Shepherd interviewed on stage five years ago Franciscus was one of only two co-stars of whom she spoke ill, citing his obsession with how he looked in their big love scene.)

I was 10 years old when I first saw Hell Boats at the drive-in movies with my dad. I have to say that the nude scene with Elizabeth Shepherd left a lasting impression on me. I've watched it again more recently in my 60s. And, like the other reviewer, I simply love this movie. There's nothing really special about the effects or the plot line. I think it is just the wonderful cinematography situated around the island of Malta, and the stunning screen presence of James Franciscus and Elizabeth Shepherd who do have a special chemistry, despite what I've read about them not getting along off camera. There's also something to be said about the uncomplaining matter-of-fact way that these naval officers go about doing their dangerous and thankless job.

Hell Boats is basically a poor man's version of higher production value films like the Guns of Navarone. That is not to say that the acting is subpar by any means. The main characters, Franciscus, Shepherd and Ronald Allen all hit the right notes of expressing loneliness, anger and an unfulfilled life which is amazing, considering the plot they had to work with. This is one of Director Paul Wendkos' best works if not his best.

This movie clearly didn't have much of a budget, but what it lacks in effects it makes up for in the personal elements of the story.

There are no big stars in the cast, but they all do a good job with their roles, letting us see how the war affects people differently.

The plot is fairly straightforward, to blow up U-Boat pens in Sicily. The pens are storing glider bombs that the Nazis were using to sink allied shipping in the Med.

It's an enjoyable movie, all things considered, and my only complaint is that they couldn't do a better job of mocking up the very distinctive shape of a German E-Boat.

Apart from that, not a bad way to spend 90 minutes!

Low-budget film loosely inspired by the scheme conceived for the famous Operation Ruthless, only adapted to a naval context, and set in the Mediterranean war theater. The production goes unnoticed, achieving a passing grade thanks to its smooth narrative flow and the performances of the lead actors. It doesn't score higher due to the low quality of the supporting characters, the management of extras, and the 1970s idiosyncrasies (incorrect wardrobe, incorrect hairstyles, etc...) that turn out to be unconvincing. It's a shame; with a little effort in philological reconstruction, it could have surely reached a higher cinematic level.