In the 50s, between historical epics, Chuck made a few pretty good exotic adventure flicks. Two of them were located in South America -- the one in which he is a plantation owner fighting both a horde of army ants and Eleanor Parker's sexual experience, and this one, in which his career consists apparently of nothing more than acting as a guide in Peru, swindling rich tourists, and seducing their bored wives. Both have some snippy dialog. The censors must have been asleep at the switch.
I can't remember the plot too well. I saw it on its release as a kid, and only more recently once on TV, when some of the lines and some of the scenes sent me into ictal spasms.
A lot of traveling up and down rivers, to tricky places. Thomas Mitchell as a grubby, greedy American after Incan treasures. (And they were THERE too, the ones that Pizarro didn't make off with. Cripes, the royal family wore garments made of gold, and after they were worn once the garments were thrown away!) Mitchell's most memorable line. He's wringing his hands with glee, practically drooling, as he fantasizes about how they're going to rip off some priceless treasure that night. "Ahh, nobody ever made a buck in the daytime!" Later, Mitchell makes a grab for a golden statue or something and falls off the mountain some thirty-thousand feet. Later someone asks Heston what killed Mitchell. "Gravity," he replies.
But the most hilarious exchange, the one I could hardly believe on second viewing, takes place between Glenda Farrell, the middle-aged bored wife of a dull bulb of an American zillionaire. She's eyeing him as he slinks around the room polishing his rifle or something and she asks if he likes his job. It goes something like, "It's a living." She: "How do you approach your work?" He: "I take it slow and easy." She: "That's just the way I like it. Are you good at it?" He: "I've never had any complaints." It goes on, but I can't.
It's a lively movie, completely unbelievable, as is the voice of Yma Sumac, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to the mother of the school girl I was dating at the time. The natives are laughable. Oh, they existed, just as the Inca did (though the name "Inca" was used only in reference to the incestuous royal family), but they didn't look anything like these Hollywood head shrinkers from Central Casting. I hope I'm not getting this mixed up with Heston's other South American adventure!
Robert Young is stuck with the role of the nice guy -- again. It must have been an easy morph into Marcus Welby, MD.
In its own quiet way this is a classic of its kind, if pure schlock can be considered a kind. Quite enjoyable.
I can't remember the plot too well. I saw it on its release as a kid, and only more recently once on TV, when some of the lines and some of the scenes sent me into ictal spasms.
A lot of traveling up and down rivers, to tricky places. Thomas Mitchell as a grubby, greedy American after Incan treasures. (And they were THERE too, the ones that Pizarro didn't make off with. Cripes, the royal family wore garments made of gold, and after they were worn once the garments were thrown away!) Mitchell's most memorable line. He's wringing his hands with glee, practically drooling, as he fantasizes about how they're going to rip off some priceless treasure that night. "Ahh, nobody ever made a buck in the daytime!" Later, Mitchell makes a grab for a golden statue or something and falls off the mountain some thirty-thousand feet. Later someone asks Heston what killed Mitchell. "Gravity," he replies.
But the most hilarious exchange, the one I could hardly believe on second viewing, takes place between Glenda Farrell, the middle-aged bored wife of a dull bulb of an American zillionaire. She's eyeing him as he slinks around the room polishing his rifle or something and she asks if he likes his job. It goes something like, "It's a living." She: "How do you approach your work?" He: "I take it slow and easy." She: "That's just the way I like it. Are you good at it?" He: "I've never had any complaints." It goes on, but I can't.
It's a lively movie, completely unbelievable, as is the voice of Yma Sumac, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to the mother of the school girl I was dating at the time. The natives are laughable. Oh, they existed, just as the Inca did (though the name "Inca" was used only in reference to the incestuous royal family), but they didn't look anything like these Hollywood head shrinkers from Central Casting. I hope I'm not getting this mixed up with Heston's other South American adventure!
Robert Young is stuck with the role of the nice guy -- again. It must have been an easy morph into Marcus Welby, MD.
In its own quiet way this is a classic of its kind, if pure schlock can be considered a kind. Quite enjoyable.