In an iconic line either repurposed in Godard's Contempt, or attributed to it, depending on which version of the truth you choose to believe - and with all things concerning Fritz Lang, there is never just one - the legendary director once said of the ultra widescreen Cinemascope format that « it is only good for shooting snakes and funerals ». Given my affection for his many classic masterpieces and his undeniable eye, I was quite excited at the prospect of what an actual Fritz Lang cinemascope extravaganza might entail, despite the ominous signs.
I have not read the novel this film is apparently very loosely based on, and by most accounts the many changes to character and plot have not been for the better. MGM must have salivated at the idea of making a bold, colorful Treasure Island style romp, and the differences are pronounced enough to make for something quite interesting. As the surrogate father-figure to our child POV character, Stewart Granger's Jeremy Fox is closer to a gentleman thief than a full-throated pirate in the Long John Silver vein, more of an enigma, and the best parts of the film are watching him turn from charming and charismatic to cold and ruthless, often on a dime. It is all the more praiseworthy because Granger reportedly hated working with Lang, and hated that MGM had mostly confined shooting to the studio backlot, rather than on location.
Other notable additions to the cast are the ever-dependable George Sanders (the voice of Jungle Book's Sher Khan, no less) and the amazing Joan Greenwood, criminally underused, though every chance to hear her pur malicious lines in that unique voice of hers should be cherished. Poor Jon Whiteley, on the other hand, 9 years old at the time of shooting this, is hung out to dry as our POV character John Mohune, very much stuck in late 50s child acting standards, which were mostly abysmal. This hurts the film because our emotional engagement with the central relationship suffers as a result.
I really wanted to like this. It had many of the right ingredients, not least of which is Miklos Rozsa on scoring duties, though this could hardly be called one of his finest works. Despite a few gothic flourishes, one of the main letdowns is Fritz Lang's obvious lack of inspiration with the format - or might it have been with the story as a whole? Images of his early works are seared into our collective unconscious, but you'd be hard pressed to remember a single vaguely memorable shot in this film. And lest you uncharitably attribute the visual dullness to an old artist's waning talents or inability to translate his skill to color stock and new technology, let me direct you to the visual splendor or his last masterpiece, the Indian Saga shot only a few short years after Moonfleet.
There is a reason this one is rarely mentioned. It is an interesting study of what might have been, but ultimately, it is too sedate a treatment of a story that demands far more verve and passion. Only check this out if you are a diehard Fritz Lang fan.
I have not read the novel this film is apparently very loosely based on, and by most accounts the many changes to character and plot have not been for the better. MGM must have salivated at the idea of making a bold, colorful Treasure Island style romp, and the differences are pronounced enough to make for something quite interesting. As the surrogate father-figure to our child POV character, Stewart Granger's Jeremy Fox is closer to a gentleman thief than a full-throated pirate in the Long John Silver vein, more of an enigma, and the best parts of the film are watching him turn from charming and charismatic to cold and ruthless, often on a dime. It is all the more praiseworthy because Granger reportedly hated working with Lang, and hated that MGM had mostly confined shooting to the studio backlot, rather than on location.
Other notable additions to the cast are the ever-dependable George Sanders (the voice of Jungle Book's Sher Khan, no less) and the amazing Joan Greenwood, criminally underused, though every chance to hear her pur malicious lines in that unique voice of hers should be cherished. Poor Jon Whiteley, on the other hand, 9 years old at the time of shooting this, is hung out to dry as our POV character John Mohune, very much stuck in late 50s child acting standards, which were mostly abysmal. This hurts the film because our emotional engagement with the central relationship suffers as a result.
I really wanted to like this. It had many of the right ingredients, not least of which is Miklos Rozsa on scoring duties, though this could hardly be called one of his finest works. Despite a few gothic flourishes, one of the main letdowns is Fritz Lang's obvious lack of inspiration with the format - or might it have been with the story as a whole? Images of his early works are seared into our collective unconscious, but you'd be hard pressed to remember a single vaguely memorable shot in this film. And lest you uncharitably attribute the visual dullness to an old artist's waning talents or inability to translate his skill to color stock and new technology, let me direct you to the visual splendor or his last masterpiece, the Indian Saga shot only a few short years after Moonfleet.
There is a reason this one is rarely mentioned. It is an interesting study of what might have been, but ultimately, it is too sedate a treatment of a story that demands far more verve and passion. Only check this out if you are a diehard Fritz Lang fan.