Il grande avventuriero

Known as Blackjack and Captain Blackjack, this stars george sanders as mike, skipper of a boat which is helping political refugees get to shore. The picture quality is just awful, and sometimes its hard to tell what's going on. This seems to be a collection of americans, here in spain for various reasons.... everyone out for themselves. Filmed off the spanish island of palma, which is currently having great seismic activity. When one of the ships is reported to have burned up, mike goes to investigate. Herb marshall is doctor curtis, who seems to be involved in all this. Along with the always devious agnes moorehead, as emily birk. Inspector carnero is standing by, waiting to arrest those guilty of smuggling and other crimes. Part of the excitement is clearly the exotic location. Similar to the film algiers. Based on a story by robert gaillard. Directed by julien duvivier, who had directed a TON of great films, including tales of manhattan, anna karenina. Fun note: herb marshall was a pretty big star... was in BOTH versions of The Letter. And lost a leg in world war one.

George Sanders has a ship, and smuggles. He also offers suggestions to Marcel Dalio on transporting refugees if they can afford it. One refugee he's willing to take for free is Patricia Roc, who develops a wary relationship with him. Sanders is looking to make up for lost time, lost money, the lost girl, all gone in the War. He's got a big deal coming along. After that, he plans to be honest once again. But Herbert Marshall seems to be involved in government affairs, and Agnes Moorhead seems to be looking out for herself.

It's watchable until the very poor ending, but it's the worst movie directed by Duvivier I've ever seen. There are flaws in character, in story logic, and the fight sequence with Dalio, which should have been delightful, is stupid. Clearly the intention was to make a Bogey and Bacall movie, but this one not only lacks the star couple, it lacks sense, particularly at the end.

A Spanish-French-UK production with a cast about ready to fade into either oblivion or television. Dalio turns in the best performance as the weasel captain of a tramp steamer, but an echo of his earlier work under greats like Jean Renoir. Moorehead is also deliciously double-crossing. Saunders is caught out of his element trying to create a character similar to Harry Lime in The 3rd Man--the shady, disillusioned post-war 'businessman'. Bogart might have made this role succeed; however, none could equal the archtypal performance by Welles as Harry Lime. As it is, Saunders is not credible as a conflicted entrepreneur and completely unbelievable as a wheezing love interest for Patricia Roc, herself well past the ingenue stage. Herbert Marshall turns in the same performance he will soon do weekly in Times Square Playhouse for American television yawn. Great moments of outdoor cinematography in the all-natural sound stage of the Spanish Mediterranean by the director who gave us Pepe LeMoko.

Both the plot and the visual appearance of this very unknown film reminds the spectator in some whiles of masterpieces of that time like 'The Third Man', 'Casablanca', 'The Lady of Shangai', 'Beat the Devil', or even 'Mr Arkadin' (an strange and marvelous co production filmed in Spain as well) but it's quality is a sidereal distance far away from them.

Plot is a little complicated, characters are not completely credible and Sanders is a little miscast in this story settled in Mallorca about an smuggler and his ethical doubts. As in many co productions you feel that the result is composed of glued parts and so the whole thing doesn't work as properly as it should.

Anyway, has moments that deserve the watching: A funny José Nieto telling Agnes Morehead she is as beautiful as a fruit in season (though may be you have to be Spanish to enjoy it). And some other beautiful: the cave sequence, the opening with the mills (with remembrances from Orson Welles), besides some glimmer of magic in the acting of Sanders, Morehead and Roc. All the outdoor footage in black and white at the Mallorca seaside is also remarkable.

And of course, the musical sequence (magistrally shot) with Lola Flores and Manolo Caracol making some flamenco sketches at the top of their art is something all spaniards should be proud of

I saw this film when it was released to the minor cinemas in the UK some 50 years ago; and the memory remains of a great musical score, and the tragedy of the storyline. I saw it again on video recently. The sound track was poor and the picture grainy; but it is one of two films that I saw again the next day, the other being Gladiator. The music theme is intensely tragic, and from the outset one knows that it heralds failure or death. Certainly one of George Sanders best performances; as a man working the black market to get pay back for what he lost in the war, but nemesis waits; Patricia Roc plays a refugee from Eastern Europe eaten with despair. He is attracted to her, selflessly wants to help her, and then falls in love with her, but she is too proud and hurt to accept help. Their love destroys him, and inevetably the girl and the doctor (Herbert Marshall), who brought the nemesis. The storyline is of complex intertwining destinies, where subsidiary characters are not who they appear to be. This is as a film, which diappointed the critics and struggled at the box office; but for the adolescent who saw it, and the retired gentleman who saw it again it is one of the greatest films (taking into account its age)whose story is more akin to an opera.