Audiences were likely disgruntled to discover that out of a heavyweight cast boasting the likes of Omar Sharif (Doctor Zhivago, 1965), Yul Brynner (The Magnificent Seven, 1960), Rita Hayworth (Circus World/The Magnificent Showman, 1964), Senta Berger (Cast a Giant Shadow, 1966) and Stephen Boyd (Genghis Khan, 1965), that the heavy lifting was done by a couple of supporting actors in Trevor Howard (Von Ryan’s Express, 1965) and E.G. Marshall (The Chase, 1966).
Most of the all-star cast barely last a few minutes, Stephen Boyd’s character killed in the opening sequence, Senta Berger and Rita Hayworth putting in fleeting appearances as junkies. Like many of the gangster pictures of the decade, it’s set up as a docu-drama, giving the down’n’dirty, courtesy of United Nations which funded the picture, on the international drugs trade.
Benson (Stephen Boyd) heads up an infiltration operation targeting drug suppliers in Iran, where poppies “grow wild as weeds.” Though quickly bumped off, and the goods he’s purchased stolen, he’s replaced by Col Salem (Yul Brynner) who has the Bond-esque notion of enriching the opium with radiation and then tracing it using Geiger counters.
When that scheme fails, it’s down to agents Sam Lincoln (Trevor Howard) and Coley Jones (E.G. Marshall) to hunt down the drugs. Considering themselves unlikely lotharios, they compete over women and play a neat game of stone-scissors-paper to decide who is assigned which task, varying from chatting up Linda (Angie Dickinson), the gorgeous widow of Benson, or searching her room. Linda isn’t all she seems, not least she may not be a widow, carries a gun, and turns up in too many unsavory dives to be on the side of the angels.
Given drug-dealing was not the rampant business it later became, audiences might not be so shocked to discover that opium was transported by cargo ship and refined in Naples before being shipped all over the world. Possibly as interesting is the use of ancetic anhydride in the refining process. As Sam and Coley trudge across half of Europe, from Naples to Geneva to Nice, the audience is filled in on the details of the drug business and they latch on to a Mr Big, Serge Marko (Gilbert Roland).
There’s a hard realism about the project – though not to the levels of The French Connection (1971) -: nightclub dancer needing make-up to hide the tracks on her arms; Marko’s wife (Rita Hayward) stoned out of her skull; director Terence Young (Dr No, 1962) pulling a fast one Hitchcock-style in killing off Sam; and, despite a climax which sees Coley collar Marko, it ends with a pessimistic air – “someone else to take his place.” There’s a good fistfight on a train, and you’ll have guessed what Linda is up to. But there’s an odd softer centre, the movie taking a couple of breaks to highlight the singing of Trini Lopez and female wrestlers.
Before virtue-signalling was invented this was a do-gooder movie, the cameo players signing up for a buck, Grace Kelly on hand for the introduction. These days it stands as an almighty alarm that was scarcely heeded, not as the drug-fuelled counter-culture was about to burst onto the world, and with middle-class drop-outs championing the illicit there was little chance of the warning being heeded.
More like The Longest Day (1962) than Lawrence of Arabia (1962) in its use of the all-star cast. Still manages to make its points with the least amount of lecturing and hectoring.
Terence Young comes into his own in the action highpoints. Written by Jo Eiseinger (Oscar Wilde, 1960) and Jack Davies (Gambit, 1966) from an idea by Ian Fleming.
The Magnificent 60s 