Warner Bros.’ Archive Collection has released on Blu-ray DOC
SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE, the 1975 sci-fi epic from WB, produced and co-scripted
by legendary fantasy movie maker George Pal, directed by Michael Anderson, and
starring Ron Ely, Paul Gleason, William Lucking, Michael Miller, Eldon Quick,
Darrell Zwerling, Paul Wexler, Pamela Hensley, Bob Corson, Janice Heiden, and
Michael Berryman. A significant critical and audience failure in the late summer
of 1975 (when a little fish story called JAWS dominated local movie houses),
DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE’s decidedly shaky production and goofy camp
tone have only added to its small cult among admirers of pulp fiction legend
Savage, of producer Pal, and of pre-STAR WARS 1970s motion picture sci-fi. Warner
has delivered up a beaut of a Blu transfer (reportedly a new 2k scan of a newish
interpositive), with an original trailer as a bonus.
The Arctic Circle, 1936. Crime-fighting Ubermensch Clark “Doc”
Savage, Jr. (Ron Ely, TV’s TARZAN, SLAVERS), a brilliant scientist/inventor/martial
artist/doctor/detective, has arrived at his frozen Fortress of Solitude (yes...Superman
stole that five years later), where he has come to recharge his intellectual
and physical batteries through reading, exercise, meditation and scientific
experimentation. However, his chilly idyll is interrupted when finely-tuned
Doc picks up negative thought waves from his cohorts, The Fabulous Five, stationed
in New York City. Those five, former WWI Army buddies of Doc, include Brigadier
General Theodore Marley "Ham" Brooks (Darrell Zwerling, THE ULTIMATE
WARRIOR, CAPRICORN ONE), a brilliant attorney, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett
"Monk" Mayfair (Michael Miller, HERCULES IN NEW YORK, HARDBODIES),
a world-famous chemist, Colonel John "Renny" Renwick (William Lucking,
THE NINTH CONFIGURATION, EXTREME JUSTICE), the world’s top engineer, Professor
William Harper "Johnny" Littlejohn (Eldon Quick, HOW COME NOBODY’S
ON OUR SIDE?, HOMEBODIES), a renowned geologist and archeologist, and Major
Thomas J. "Long Tom" Roberts (Paul Gleason, WINTER-A-GO-GO, DIE HARD),
an electrical wizard. Racing back to his 86th floor Empire State Building penthouse
suite, he discovers his beloved father has died of a mysterious disease in the
Central American Republic of Hidalgo. Doc, however, believes his father was
murdered, and sets off with the Fabulous Five to find out what happened. Once
in Hidalgo, he meets tempting local beauty Mona Flores (Pamela Hensley, ROLLERBALL,
THE NUDE BOMB), who will guide Doc to a secret land deeded to Doc’s father,
but also international criminal Captain Seas (Paul Wexler, THE FOUR SKULLS OF
JONATHAN DRAKE, THE BOWERY BOYS MEET THE MONSTERS), who knows more about Doc
Sr.’s death than is good for his health.
Considering Doc Savage’s pulp fiction pedigree, and the character’s
subsequent influence on comics’ development—particularly the superhero
genre—it’s surprising that it took over forty years for the first
cinematic incarnation of the character to hit the big screen. According to various
sources, Savage’s co-creator and the author of over 160 of the 181 published
Doc Savage stories, Lester Dent (writing under Street & Smith Publications’
house name, “Kenneth Robeson”), had control of the movie rights
to the Savage character, with the aim of scripting his own Doc Savage
movie—a sticking point with Hollywood suits who didn’t want screenwriting
novice Dent writing any potential movie adaptation. After Dent’s death
in 1959, game show producers Mark Goodson and Bill Todman, in conjunction with
Doc Savage brand owner Conde Nast Publications, announced in 1966 that
they were going to star TV’s THE RIFLEMAN, Chuck Connors, as Doc Savage
in The Thousand Headed Man (Bantam Books’ paperback reprints
of Dent’s Savage stories, graced by illustrator James Bama’s
sensational cover art, had moved big numbers during those Bondmania mid-1960s).
Someone, however, forgot one small detail: Dent’s widow still owned the
movie rights, so...no Chuck Connors Savage movie. Fast forward to 1971,
as legendary fantasy producer/director George Pal (WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE, THE
TIME MACHINE, THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF THE BROTHERS GRIMM) buys the movie rights,
with the initial intention of starring HERCULES muscleman Steve Reeves, under
old pro Gordon Douglas’ (THEM!, VIVA KNIEVEL!) direction. Production delays
eventually saw English director Michael Anderson (AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS,
THE SHOES OF THE FISHERMAN) hired, with former TV TARZAN Ron Ely headlining.
Pal and Warner Bros. envisioned a Doc Savage big-screen franchise,
leading to a TV series, with the studio upping the initial paltry $1.5 million
dollar budget to $4.5. That amount very possibly was cut back, though, during
principal photography in 1974 (among the budgetary casualties was a crucial
score commission for composer Walter Scharf). Warner Bros. then sat on DOC SAVAGE:
THE MAN OF BRONZE for over a year (never a good sign...), before releasing
it in the summer of 1975 (various sources state it was either a June or August
premiere). Reaction was mostly dire from the critics, while mainstream audiences,
either unfamiliar with the material, or not suitably drawn to the big star-less
production—or still busy with that damned fish—didn’t show
up.
I don’t remember them now, but I’m sure I must have flipped through
a couple of Doc Savage books when I was kid, because my older brothers
had a bunch of those Bantam paperbacks with the irresistible James Bama covers
laying around (a golden age for hooking in young readers with eye-catching paperback
cover art). When I saw DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE as a 10-year-old at the
drive-in, it didn’t leave the same impression with me that I had with
another period fantasy/adventure I saw that year: THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT,
probably because of DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE’s wavering, goofy camp
tone and its serious lack of action. No doubt that “G” rating also
caused concern for me. Unless it was a Disney movie (when did you see one as
a kid that you didn’t like back then?), that “G” probably
meant no action, no babes, and no swearing. Quite frankly, to any savvy moviegoing
kid back then, a “G”-rating on an action movie like DOC SAVAGE:
THE MAN OF BRONZE translated into: “What’s wrong with this thing?”
Watching DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE, I’m a little more forgiving towards
it—it gives you the same safe, pass-the-time lull of watching a first
season episode of TV’s WONDER WOMAN—although its faults are many
and plainly seen. Tone is the number one problem, as even its most ardent cult
defenders acknowledge. Intentional camp on the order of the old BATMAN TV series
demands either genuinely funny gags or a resolutely straight face. DOC SAVAGE:
THE MAN OF BRONZE has neither. It isn’t nearly as funny or ironic or spoofy
as it thinks it is, nor does it have the discipline to tone things down and
let the ridiculousness of its situations carry the laughs. When Doc jumps on
the running board of his Cord and points his finger majestically forward as
it speeds off into the rainy night, unless we’re ardent Savage
fans, we don’t get the literary reference, and as regular viewers...we
just don’t think it’s funny enough to warrant the big “har
har har” musical cue. The movie is all over the place in terms of tone.
The opening scene—Doc arriving by snowmobile to his Arctic Fortress of
Solitude igloo—best illustrates this back and forth uneasiness. Big, handsome,
in-on-the-joke Ron Ely fits damn nearly perfectly those Bama illustrations,
and the recognizable “Doc Savage” logo on the snowmobile gets a
solid laugh. The igloo set looks cheap, but at the same time it’s nice
appointed...yet the lighting is depressingly TV flat (even though it's PATTON
cinematographer, Fred J. Koenekamp, you can tell everyone was yelling, "Dollar!
Dollar!" and running from set-up to set-up). Worst of all, the music—cheap,
public domain John Phillip Sousa marches punched up by De Vol—is a corny
nightmare, beating to death with painful obviousness any attempts at with-it,
ironic humor (that wretched, cringe-inducing theme song with Don Black's lyrics,
is truly god-awful).
And that’s the way the rest of DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE plays. Some
elements work; talented Ely is the best thing in the movie—he’s
big and funny in a straight-faced, light comedian way (a pity he wasn’t
considered by Spielberg for INDIANA JONES...). But they clash against the obvious
boners. Some purists were outraged that a comedic element was introduced to
the character in the first place, but since it was, if and how often DOC SAVAGE:
THE MAN OF BRONZE gets laughs are valid points of discussion. As for apologists
who claim WB and their budget cutting was to blame for the movie’s flatness:
a dollar pie in the face can get you a chuckle. DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE’s
reduced budget could have been a plus, actually, in the right hands (a cheap-jack
epic laughing at its own chintziness), but it’s hard to see a sustained
sense of humor in the screenplay by Pal and Joe Morhaim (AN EYE FOR AN EYE).
Director Michael Anderson’s work swings erratically from accomplished
crowd pleasers like AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS and LOGAN’S RUN, to stiffs
like THE SHOES OF THE FISHERMAN and JAWS rip-off, ORCA. Here, his pace is leaden,
with the few bright moments—Ely’s hilarious romantic kiss-off to
Hensley (“Mona...you’re a brick!”), or the quite funny fighting
finale with Wexler, with various forms of combat helpfully labeled for us—forgotten
amid the long, dull stretches and misfires (that fight on the boat and underwater
escape...bush league). Adults like myself who saw DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE
as a kid are going to be the best audience for this super-sharp, cleaned-up
presentation...but why do I suspect commercial interruptions would have helped?
Warner Bros.' 2k interpositive scan/digital color restoration 1080p HD 1.85:1 widescreen transfer for DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE looks as good as the movie ever will...considering the less-than-eye-popping colors from the original cinematography. Fine image detail is impressive, tight, filmic grain, blacks are pretty close to absolute, contrast acceptable, and no artifacting that I could see. The DTS-HD MA 2.0 English audio track has a bit of heft in a surprisingly low-key original sound design, with clean, crisp dialogue. English subtitles are available. An original trailer is included. (Paul Mavis)