Perdidos no Kalahari

Sands of the Kalahari is directed by Cy Endfield who also adapts the screenplay from the novel of the same name written by William Mulvihill. It stars Stuart Whitman, Stanley Baker, Susannah York, Harry Andrews, Theodore Bikel and Nigel Davenport. Music is by John Dankworth and cinematography by Erwin Hillier.

A raw survivalist thriller that finds a disparate group of people crash land in the deserts of Africa and promptly start to come apart as a group. Cue arguments, attempted rape, killings, animal slaughter, alpha male posturing and Adam and Eve complexes. The allegory is obvious but handled with skill by Endfield, and it all builds with great intensity towards a truly bleak, yet delightfully ambiguous finale. There's some over acting going on and the dialogue can stretch credibility at times, but yes this is a worthy entry in the survivalist hall of fame. 7/10

Sands of the Kalahari sounds as if it is based on a book by Wilbur Smith, but actually it isn't. It features a top-drawer cast, some blazing African location photography, and a genuinely exciting storyline about survival in the wilderness.

The story deals with a plane crash. The survivors find themselves in the middle of the Kalahari desert, close to a barren, rocky outcrop inhabited by baboons. They manage to make a shelter in the rocks and await rescue, but after a while it becomes clear that no-one is coming to look for them. Tensions begin to rise, and various characters react in various ways: Stuart Whitman's character becomes more and more like the savage, primitive monkeys; Nigel Davenport finds himself sexually craving for one of the ladies in the party; Susannah York becomes increasingly flirtatious; Harry Andrews scientifically toils away trying to come up with a rational escape plan; Stanley Baker just deals with the situation in a quietly courageous way.

The film is very exciting. You get to know the characters quite well, and you find yourself considering their plight very seriously and pondering on how you would cope in similar circumstances. The unpredictable nature of Whitman's character and Davenport's character means that you are always on your guard, expecting the unexpected. This is a really good little film, generally forgotten now but well worth seeking out. If you get the chance to view it... do!

... it's been haunting my memory for years.

All I can really remember (I'm 37, I must've seen it when I was 15) is a feeling of the vastness of the desert, the apparent futility of their situation, and an ending that I couldn't ever forget.

I couldn't remember the name, so I did a search in IMDb's 'Plot' category for 'baboons'. And up it came - good old IMDb! How I'd love to see this again, but I guess it'll never end up on DVD, and I'll be lucky to spot it on TV (even here in the UK, where there are dozens of movie channels).

Review: tough, after all this time, but this film - I think - started me off on a lifelong quest for films that DO NOT COP OUT AT THE END. My God, these films are so much more memorable than the rest. If memory serves, the final images in Sands Of The Kalahari are utterly chilling. Top marks to the team behind it. Fingers crossed I get to see it again one day. For impact, I'd put the ending up there with The Vanishing (1988), The Wicker Man and Runaway Train. I think ... hope my memory's not playing tricks on me!

Now forgotten aside from an occasional airing on daytime TV – where I was lucky enough to catch it – SANDS OF THE KALAHARI is a B-movie version of Hollywood's FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX. Like that film, it concerns a group of plane crash survivors attempting to adapt to live in an inhospitable desert climate, but there the similarities end. SANDS OF THE KALAHARI is very much smaller scale in scope, concentrating on group dynamics over big plotting and looking at what happens when disparate personalities are forced to work together.

The first half of the film is a little dull, I'll accept that. Spain stands in for Africa, and it works…I never questioned the bleakness of the surrounds for a second. But the characters are dry and dull and the film is saddled with an extremely lacklustre female lead, played by Susannah York. In the second half, the film throws us a decent twist and delivers an unexpected story which gets better and better as it goes on. By the end I had been thoroughly engrossed in and entertained by the story.

Stuart Whitman is no Jimmy Stewart, but he enjoys a multi-faceted role here and commands the screen like few leading men. Stanley Baker, here reteaming with director Cy Endfield a year after ZULU, is also excellent value for money. Believe me, this film is no ZULU, but it is a nice surprise for a B-movie. Add in a couple of distinguished Brit actors (Harry Andrews, Nigel Davenport), some killer baboons and plenty of in-fighting and you have an unfairly forgotten little effort.

I'm really gratified to find so many other reviewers having good memories of Sands of the Kalahari and feeling as put out as I do that it is not on VHS or DVD. Nor apparently has it been seen in America at least for some time.

This is a tale of survival, but the characters sure don't come out of Swiss Family Robinson. A small plane crashes in the Kalahari desert in South Africa. One woman, Susannah York, and five men. Only one of them Stuart Whitman who is a big game hunter is really trained for the business of survival. The others are products of the ease and comfort of civilization. One of them, Stanley Baker, is badly injured and needs constant nursing by York.

There's a colony of baboons nearby and Whitman starts identifying with them in every sense of the world. He turns on the others, eliminating them one by one except York who he decides will be his savage Eve to his savage Adam.

The injured Baker gradually heals and in the end proves to be the savior for York. I'm not going to say any more, but hopefully TCM or AMC will run this film at some point for American audiences.

Susannah York is beautiful and talented and goes through a gamut of emotions regarding Whitman and their predicament. Stanley Baker is a favorite of mine among British players, he never gave a bad performance in any film I ever saw him in. But the real treat is Whitman. His devolution of character out in that desert was Oscar caliber material and why he wasn't nominated in 1965 is a mystery.

If some American movie channel gets a hold of this film, do not miss it.