George Peppard

  • The Blue Max (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, March 2022) You may wonder why a mid-1960s film about World War I airplane pilots would go on the German side to find its protagonist, and the answer is obvious: he’s not meant to be a likable character. Adapted from a novel showing the transition to a harsher model of war, The Blue Max features George Peppard in the lead role, an egocentric pilot aiming for public recognition. His quest to achieve twenty kills even as he progressively alienates everyone around him becomes the dramatic arc of the film on which the (admittedly more impressive) flying sequences are arranged. You don’t have to watch The Blue Max for its serviceable plot—but if you’re even the least interested in World War I’s aerial front, this film becomes a must-see. The filmmakers were able to capture some captivating footage of mock combat, as well as other impressive stunts, such as a plane flying low between the trusses of a bridge. It’s quite amazing in colour cinematography, especially if you have a clear memory of previous black-and-white efforts such as Wings or Hell’s Angels. The Blue Max is a long sit at 156 minutes, but it goes by much faster once the action moves into the air. The back-projection special effects have not aged well, but the footage in-between them is still a wonder to watch. James Mason and Ursula Andress are interesting in supporting roles, while The Red Baron makes an appearance as a supporting character. In the wider continuity of war movies, The Blue Max certainly feels like a mid-1960s film—still very much an adventure spectacle, but slowly inching toward the war-is-hell post-1970s mentality in sync with its own themes. It’s still very much worth a look today for its aerial footage.

  • Home from the Hill (1960)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) There’s something familiar to the point of boredom in the very 1950s-style small-town melodrama Home from the Hill. Technicolor cinematography can’t hide that it’s all convoluted histrionic without a millimetre of ironic distance. (There’s a reason why the near-contemporary Written on the Wind is far more beloved today.)  Oh, the film does have its traditional assets: Directed by Vincente Minelli, it features a cast with Robert Mitchum (in a role that anticipates his shift from tough guys to more elderly character-driven roles), veteran George Peppard and the young George Hamilton. MGM spared few expenses, giving this the big-budget colour treatment at a time when most such dramas were made in black-and-white. Mitchem is quite good here, using his tough-guy persona to project a character whose influence is steadily decaying. Still, the film does feel overly long and artificial: the southern atmosphere doesn’t impress, the scenes take too long to get to the point, the contrivances feel laboured and the rigidly mannered execution of the film is at odds with its raw melodrama. (But then again, that remains a problem with 1950s dramas: Hollywood did not yet have the neorealist tools to do them justice, and it would take until the New Hollywood of post-1967 to get there.)  It doesn’t help that there are several other films along the same lines as Home from the Hill, and that they usually have a distinct quality that makes them more memorable than this one. Fans of the actors, the style, and the melodrama may enjoy this, but everyone else won’t find much to remember.