Really, you know; you lot are a hard crowd to please.
Yes; the stars are miscast. Yes; they're often unbelievable. And yes; the dialogue is crass and wooden.
But c'mon; it's still good for a laugh. There's some wonderful filming of the Spanish countryside. We have a cast of - well - several, if not thousands. And there's plenty of fun, if rather campy, high drama. There's Frank Sinatra in his prime. There's Cary Grant ageing gracefully. And there's Sophia Loren, arguably the most beautiful women in Hollywood history, at her ripest and most voluptuous. Now; whaddaya want?
Yet the real star is mute. And that is the big, big siege-gun. We almost take it for granted because it's a bit of equipment that has no lines, yet it steals every take in which it is featured. The interesting conflicts of logic that it will be heavier descending a hill than going up is eloquently conveyed when it breaks loose and goes hurtling down and across fields, flattening everything in its path.
The intrigue between this colossal cannon and its elusive nature, and the French inability to trace it is one of the fun issues of the movie.
Gradually, a peasant army is attracted to the thing and the symbol of freedom it represents. Their gun assumes a personality cult as real as that of Lenin or Che Guevera. Simply by existing it generates resistance.
World-weary 'Anthony' played by Cary Grant knows what's in store for these tragic idealists. Despite their huge weapon they'll be slaughtered en-masse. But they're idealists, and must take what comes.
What comes is victory. Though as was evident to viewers all along, it's a very Pyrrhic one. The competition for the heroine is not only resolved by the death of a hero, but also the death of the heroine.
If I have a gripe with the movie, it is with the depiction of the siege itself. Instead of firing directly at the wall, the gun is aimed obliquely, and the breach requires the attackers to run the gauntlet of the whole side of the undamaged facade with its cannons and marksmen. That's quite absurd. It should have been a head-on attack. Still, it provides plenty of red drama, which is undoubtedly its absurd purpose.
There's an inspiring, equally melodramatic theme music pitched somewhere between 'March Of The Torreodores' and 'Bolero' that pipes it along, and despite the corn you can't help but get caught-up in this wonderful costume-drama. With Frank Sinatra, Cary Grant, Sophia Loren, and one of the most phallic props in movie history, how could you do otherwise. This is the perfect mush for rainy Saturday afternoons.
Wish for a wet weekend and cheer 'em along.
Yes; the stars are miscast. Yes; they're often unbelievable. And yes; the dialogue is crass and wooden.
But c'mon; it's still good for a laugh. There's some wonderful filming of the Spanish countryside. We have a cast of - well - several, if not thousands. And there's plenty of fun, if rather campy, high drama. There's Frank Sinatra in his prime. There's Cary Grant ageing gracefully. And there's Sophia Loren, arguably the most beautiful women in Hollywood history, at her ripest and most voluptuous. Now; whaddaya want?
Yet the real star is mute. And that is the big, big siege-gun. We almost take it for granted because it's a bit of equipment that has no lines, yet it steals every take in which it is featured. The interesting conflicts of logic that it will be heavier descending a hill than going up is eloquently conveyed when it breaks loose and goes hurtling down and across fields, flattening everything in its path.
The intrigue between this colossal cannon and its elusive nature, and the French inability to trace it is one of the fun issues of the movie.
Gradually, a peasant army is attracted to the thing and the symbol of freedom it represents. Their gun assumes a personality cult as real as that of Lenin or Che Guevera. Simply by existing it generates resistance.
World-weary 'Anthony' played by Cary Grant knows what's in store for these tragic idealists. Despite their huge weapon they'll be slaughtered en-masse. But they're idealists, and must take what comes.
What comes is victory. Though as was evident to viewers all along, it's a very Pyrrhic one. The competition for the heroine is not only resolved by the death of a hero, but also the death of the heroine.
If I have a gripe with the movie, it is with the depiction of the siege itself. Instead of firing directly at the wall, the gun is aimed obliquely, and the breach requires the attackers to run the gauntlet of the whole side of the undamaged facade with its cannons and marksmen. That's quite absurd. It should have been a head-on attack. Still, it provides plenty of red drama, which is undoubtedly its absurd purpose.
There's an inspiring, equally melodramatic theme music pitched somewhere between 'March Of The Torreodores' and 'Bolero' that pipes it along, and despite the corn you can't help but get caught-up in this wonderful costume-drama. With Frank Sinatra, Cary Grant, Sophia Loren, and one of the most phallic props in movie history, how could you do otherwise. This is the perfect mush for rainy Saturday afternoons.
Wish for a wet weekend and cheer 'em along.