You have to see this film which is a perfect example of what a mediocre film is. Or at least a film whose images shot by Edward Dmytryk and his cameramen are left to the talent or quality or inventiveness of the editor, the actors, the dialogue writer or the set designer, without any direction.
The direction is lazy. It is a soft film. The direction of the actors is not without quality, but the actors have a tendency to declaim their dialogue, which gives a theatrical aspect and is devoid of any realism. This can be irritating.
All the sequences are too long. And we perceive that the editor tries to make them a little dynamic or even interesting and to get them out of their monotony through certain cuts that he positions.
The acting is catastrophic. Robert Mitchum, lazy, often filmed from the back walking, doesn't seem to believe in it and seems to be constantly telling us "my dialogues suck" (fortunately for him, his stay in Italy must have been nice); the character's moods and philosophical states are childish. The actors overact: Peter Falk is ridiculous, Earl Holliman is very heavy. The music is bad.
The only interest is the historical dimension of this battle. And maybe two sequences: the crossing of the minefield, or towards the end, the confrontation of the snipers. Two passages with a bit of nerve in a lazy ensemble.
The direction is lazy. It is a soft film. The direction of the actors is not without quality, but the actors have a tendency to declaim their dialogue, which gives a theatrical aspect and is devoid of any realism. This can be irritating.
All the sequences are too long. And we perceive that the editor tries to make them a little dynamic or even interesting and to get them out of their monotony through certain cuts that he positions.
The acting is catastrophic. Robert Mitchum, lazy, often filmed from the back walking, doesn't seem to believe in it and seems to be constantly telling us "my dialogues suck" (fortunately for him, his stay in Italy must have been nice); the character's moods and philosophical states are childish. The actors overact: Peter Falk is ridiculous, Earl Holliman is very heavy. The music is bad.
The only interest is the historical dimension of this battle. And maybe two sequences: the crossing of the minefield, or towards the end, the confrontation of the snipers. Two passages with a bit of nerve in a lazy ensemble.