Enjoyable, cartoon nonsense about a group of American mercenaries who flee the recently defeated Confederacy for employment in the French Emporer Maximilian's army. A simple-minded plot revolves around the tentative friendship of two men, Burt Lancaster and Gary Cooper, as the leaders of the Americans, and involves escorting the delicious Denise Darcel from Mexico City to Veracruz in a royal coach that carries a hidden stash of three million bucks in gold.
An interesting cast. Cooper and Lancaster don't really swing together on screen, or in real life for that matter. Of the principals, Henry Brandon as the chief of Maximilian's lancers is German (von Kleinbach), Darcel is French, and Caesar Romero as a treacherous minion of Maximilian's is Cuban. Two of the talent were homosexual. The supporting cast reads like a list of the 1950s' best character actors: Ernest Borgnine, Morris Ankrum, Charles Bronson, Jack Elam.
Gary Cooper underplays as usual. He's a Southern gentleman of the old school, a man of some honor, though disillusioned by the loss of his estates during the war. By the end of the movie he discovers that he can again commit himself to a cause, that of the Juaristas. Not that the political background of Maximilian's ascent to the throne is gone into, because it isn't. It would have been an insult to the French, who installed him while Americans were too busy killing each other to object. And any endorsement of the Juaristas might look a little too much like communism in 1954, what with impoverished peasants fighting the wealthy, wearing the rags of peons, and all that. Maximilian is played as a fool by George MacReady. For a different take on the political situation, see "Juarez" (1936, I think).
Cooper's character comes across as rather dull. Men of honor are always dull on screen. They never do anything wrong. They're wet blankets. They frown disapprovingly while others gets drunk, dance, and playfully bash one another. The chief basher in this film is the most likable character in the film. Burt Lancaster is dressed all in black and carries a nickel-plated Colt and shoots and betrays people at will. Makeup has tanned him to the color of a mummy in the peat bogs of Denmark and when he smiles, them glistening choppers seem the size of tombstones. What a presence. He dips his hands into a water-filled flower vase in order to wet his hair and slick it backward in what he clearly thinks is an attractive fashion. He wets his forefinger and briefly scrubs his teeth to make certain they look enough like chiclets. He pours glass after glass of wine towards his gaping mouth. He's unshaven, uncouth, and unkempt -- a complete miscreant. He's a delight to watch and listen to.
There is of course another way of looking at the whole thing. A revolution is taking place in a foreign country and the United States sends a group of red-neck specialists down with high-tech weapons, but instead of supporting the dictatorship they wind up siding with the revolutionaries -- but let's not go there.
It's a lot of fun, full of action and comedy, and not a word of it is to be taken seriously.
An interesting cast. Cooper and Lancaster don't really swing together on screen, or in real life for that matter. Of the principals, Henry Brandon as the chief of Maximilian's lancers is German (von Kleinbach), Darcel is French, and Caesar Romero as a treacherous minion of Maximilian's is Cuban. Two of the talent were homosexual. The supporting cast reads like a list of the 1950s' best character actors: Ernest Borgnine, Morris Ankrum, Charles Bronson, Jack Elam.
Gary Cooper underplays as usual. He's a Southern gentleman of the old school, a man of some honor, though disillusioned by the loss of his estates during the war. By the end of the movie he discovers that he can again commit himself to a cause, that of the Juaristas. Not that the political background of Maximilian's ascent to the throne is gone into, because it isn't. It would have been an insult to the French, who installed him while Americans were too busy killing each other to object. And any endorsement of the Juaristas might look a little too much like communism in 1954, what with impoverished peasants fighting the wealthy, wearing the rags of peons, and all that. Maximilian is played as a fool by George MacReady. For a different take on the political situation, see "Juarez" (1936, I think).
Cooper's character comes across as rather dull. Men of honor are always dull on screen. They never do anything wrong. They're wet blankets. They frown disapprovingly while others gets drunk, dance, and playfully bash one another. The chief basher in this film is the most likable character in the film. Burt Lancaster is dressed all in black and carries a nickel-plated Colt and shoots and betrays people at will. Makeup has tanned him to the color of a mummy in the peat bogs of Denmark and when he smiles, them glistening choppers seem the size of tombstones. What a presence. He dips his hands into a water-filled flower vase in order to wet his hair and slick it backward in what he clearly thinks is an attractive fashion. He wets his forefinger and briefly scrubs his teeth to make certain they look enough like chiclets. He pours glass after glass of wine towards his gaping mouth. He's unshaven, uncouth, and unkempt -- a complete miscreant. He's a delight to watch and listen to.
There is of course another way of looking at the whole thing. A revolution is taking place in a foreign country and the United States sends a group of red-neck specialists down with high-tech weapons, but instead of supporting the dictatorship they wind up siding with the revolutionaries -- but let's not go there.
It's a lot of fun, full of action and comedy, and not a word of it is to be taken seriously.