Opening scene. Turn of the century Sahara. A long line of French troops approach one of their isolated fortresses. The tricolor still flies, though the bugle calls get no answer. The French captain enters and finds the embrasures manned with armed dead men. Not a soul is left alive.
Lots of excitement in this story of three upper-class English brothers -- Cooper, Milland, and Preston -- two of whom die heroic deaths in the French Foreign Legion in the African desert. There was a time when everyone talked about joining the Foreign Legion to forget. The film makes clear that there must be far easier ways to forget than joining an army of stumble bums commanded by sadists.
The three brothers grow up happily together. (Donald O'Connor is the young Gary Cooper.) Not a care in the world until some tomfoolery about a stolen emerald leads them to take off for exotic climes.
They're stationed at a remote fort that is surrounded by hostile Tuareg tribesmen. The lieutenant in charge is stern but fair. But he dies and the sergeant takes over. In a nicely directed scene, by William Wellman, the lieutenant gasps out his last breath in the presence of the sergeant, Brian Donlevy. Donlevy, like Captain Bligh, is a splendid soldier but has a hellish disposition. He stares at the recently expired body, leans over it, presses his ear to the lieutenant's chest, and in a close up, a fiendish grin of satisfaction informs his features.
And what a bastard he is. He calls his men "scum," "pigs", and "my children," which must be mes enfants in his language. He relishes dealing out punishment, always operating more or less within the rules but pushing the envelope. He lives only for the army and for promotion. His goal? To become an officer and be awarded the Legion of Honor. He doesn't quite make it.
The three happy brothers are just that -- playing jokes on one another, clapping each other on the back, waving and smiling even as they're about to be swept away on the very stream of time. Sort of dull.
But Brian Donlevy's sergeant is a much more complex and interesting character. The actor himself was quite a guy, pursuing Pancho Villa into Mexico under General Pershing, then the army in France, the Lafayette Escadrille, and a couple of years at Annapolis, before becoming an actor. He was usually a restrained mid-executive type. But here he reaches for the stars and turns in a very spirited performance.
Make up helped a lot. His bullish neck is encase in a tight uniform collar so it bulges over the edges. His haircut is abominable. And he has a discrete but nifty scar all the way down his cheek, suggestive of a combative past. In fact, make up is good all the way around. It's turned the curly haired, Italianate J. Carrol Naish into a whiny little Russian babushka.
It's slow getting started. We know how playful and loyal the brothers are, long before they run off to join the Foreign Legion. But once it achieves flight speed, it's highly enjoyable.
Lots of excitement in this story of three upper-class English brothers -- Cooper, Milland, and Preston -- two of whom die heroic deaths in the French Foreign Legion in the African desert. There was a time when everyone talked about joining the Foreign Legion to forget. The film makes clear that there must be far easier ways to forget than joining an army of stumble bums commanded by sadists.
The three brothers grow up happily together. (Donald O'Connor is the young Gary Cooper.) Not a care in the world until some tomfoolery about a stolen emerald leads them to take off for exotic climes.
They're stationed at a remote fort that is surrounded by hostile Tuareg tribesmen. The lieutenant in charge is stern but fair. But he dies and the sergeant takes over. In a nicely directed scene, by William Wellman, the lieutenant gasps out his last breath in the presence of the sergeant, Brian Donlevy. Donlevy, like Captain Bligh, is a splendid soldier but has a hellish disposition. He stares at the recently expired body, leans over it, presses his ear to the lieutenant's chest, and in a close up, a fiendish grin of satisfaction informs his features.
And what a bastard he is. He calls his men "scum," "pigs", and "my children," which must be mes enfants in his language. He relishes dealing out punishment, always operating more or less within the rules but pushing the envelope. He lives only for the army and for promotion. His goal? To become an officer and be awarded the Legion of Honor. He doesn't quite make it.
The three happy brothers are just that -- playing jokes on one another, clapping each other on the back, waving and smiling even as they're about to be swept away on the very stream of time. Sort of dull.
But Brian Donlevy's sergeant is a much more complex and interesting character. The actor himself was quite a guy, pursuing Pancho Villa into Mexico under General Pershing, then the army in France, the Lafayette Escadrille, and a couple of years at Annapolis, before becoming an actor. He was usually a restrained mid-executive type. But here he reaches for the stars and turns in a very spirited performance.
Make up helped a lot. His bullish neck is encase in a tight uniform collar so it bulges over the edges. His haircut is abominable. And he has a discrete but nifty scar all the way down his cheek, suggestive of a combative past. In fact, make up is good all the way around. It's turned the curly haired, Italianate J. Carrol Naish into a whiny little Russian babushka.
It's slow getting started. We know how playful and loyal the brothers are, long before they run off to join the Foreign Legion. But once it achieves flight speed, it's highly enjoyable.