Coast of Skeletons

1964's "Coast of Skeletons" (Sanders und das Schiff des Todes or Sanders and the Ship of Death) marked one of the earliest titles on the lengthy resume of producer Harry Alan Towers, a veteran of 100 TV episodes before branching out into features with 1963's "Death Drums Along the River," introducing Richard Todd as Commissioner Harry Sanders in a West German update on Edgar Wallace's "Sanders of the River." Both Todd and Marianne Koch are back for this one off sequel, also shot on location in South Africa, where Sanders is now working for an insurance company eager to get a fix on Texas oil magnate A. J. Magnus (Dale Robertson), who appears to have switched dredging for diamonds to obtaining stolen gold bullion sunk during WW2. Heinz Drache plays a ship's captain in the employ of Magnus, determined to maintain the love of a shallow young bride (Elga Anderson) more accustomed to wealth and privilege, while Todd's Sanders continues to enjoy the company of Marianne Koch, this time as the captain's attractive photographer sister (coming off her best known film role opposite Clint Eastwood in "A Fistful of Dollars"). The varied attempts on Sanders' life aren't quite enough to evoke memories of James Bond, but it's an agreeable time passer and no more; incidentally, the title refers to the skeletons of shipwrecks! By the time this picture was issued in West Germany, Harry Alan Towers had already moved on to a new series with "The Face of Fu Manchu," his association with Christopher Lee yielding results well into the 1990s, truly an international dealmaker who also contributed to the screenplays of nearly half the more than 100 features he produced.

Richard Todd is back as Harry Sanders in another African adventure. The story is good enough but the acting with this international cast is largely suspect. Heinz Drache and Marianne Koch are the main offenders of the wooden acting school but this may have something to do with the fact that English is not their first language. Dale Robertson as the Texan playboy has no such excuse. His character is such a stereotype, it's hard to believe that Robertson has made a career of playing cowboys. But then the writing has much to blame there. Special mention must go to the ending. Talk about a convenient one. This movie is the perfect example of tying up all loose plot endings with a bang. Not very satisfying but at least it's final. The movie should only be of interest to Richard Todd completists or people wondering what a Harry Alan Towers (the writer) movie would be like without the softcore sex and violence that would dominate his later films.

COAST OF SKELETONS and its predecessor, DEATH DRUMS ALONG THE RIVER, are two of the finest Harry Alan Towers-produced movies of the 1960s. They're both exotic, Africa-shot detective adventures that come across as Bond flicks mixed with German krimi (both tales are based on SANDERS OF THE RIVER, a novel by Edgar Wallace). DEATH DRUMS ALONG THE RIVER has the edge, but this is still a worthy follow-up.

The story sees the efficient investigator Harry Sanders en route to visit the crew of a diamond-hunting ship, where his mission is to find out what happened to a previously-wrecked vessel. Before long he finds himself caught up in conflict between the captain and his crew, along with a conspiracy to make certain members millionaires.

COAST OF SKELETONS is perfectly adequate, Sunday afternoon viewing-type fare. The story is straightforward and yet complex enough to keep you watching, and there's a wealth of hard-knuckle action to keep male viewers enthralled. None of the twists and turns of the narrative are very surprising, but they're certainly handled adroitly by the director.

Richard Todd makes for an ever-dependable hero, and he's backed up by an effective Dale Robertson as the gruff captain and Euro-crumpet Marianne Koch as his second. The outrageously posh Derek Nimmo shows up as another associate. COAST OF SKELETONS is certainly one of the slickest and most entertaining of the Towers of London productions.

The most surprising feature of the second of Harry Alan Towers' two attempts to make a glossy widescreen colour franchise showcasing Edgar Wallace's old hero from the days of the British Empire and revamp him as a kind of African James Bond is the absence of Walter Rilla, hitherto a seemingly obligatory feature of such hokum.

On this occasion Towers somewhat hedges his bets by top-billing an American in the form of Dale Robertson, Heinz Drache and Marianne Koch had already seen service in recent German adaptations of Wallace, Richard Todd as Sanders evokes memories of his role in heroic war movies, while Derek Nimmo is a silly ass straight out of the thirties.

I note that one reviewer used the word finest in conjunction with Harry Alan Towers.Now that is the most incongruous choice of adjectives for the purveyor of schlock.The film is suggested by the character of Sanders.I suggest it is suggested by desperation.The story only comes together in the last ten minutes.Prior to that it is lethargic if not inert.There is a storyline about a sunken dredger which is virtually abandoned.Just don't bother with this.It's rating of 4.9 is generous.