The true story of Guy Gabaldon, a scrappy Mexican-American kid raised in East Los Angeles by a Japanese-American family and one of the most unconventional (and unsung) heroes of World War II, is told in the 1960 war drama Hell to Eternity directed by Phil Karlson. The young man, who spoke fluent Japanese, joined the Marines at age 17 and served in the South Pacific, where he used his fluency with the language and the culture of the enemy to coax hundreds of Japanese soldiers and civilians to surrender during the invasion of Saipan. He single-handedly captured more enemy soldiers than any American, including World War I hero Sergeant Alvin York, and was awarded the Navy Cross and the Silver Star.
Jeffrey Hunter, the athletic actor best known for his role opposite John Wayne in The Searchers (1956), plays Gabaldon as a tough street kid with a fierce loyalty to his Asian family. Appalled at their treatment of his adoptive parents (they were sent to a relocation camp) and turned away by the draft board for a perforated eardrum, he joins the Marines, who value his language skills. At six feet two inches, with broad soldiers and an action movie physique, Hunter is a very different specimen than the real Gabaldon, who was barely over five feet tall, and he hardly speaks Japanese like a man raised in the language, but he is appropriately driven and dedicated. David Janssen co-stars as Gabaldon’s drill sergeant and singer Vic Damone has a supporting role as his girl-crazy, finger-snapping boot-camp buddy. The legendary Sessue Hayakawa, the one-time Hollywood silent screen star who disappeared from American screens until his memorable, Oscar®-nominated return as the POW camp commander in The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), plays the commanding officer of the Japanese forces and yes, that is a pre-Star Trek George Takei (billed as George Takai) as Guy’s adoptive brother George, who joins the 442 regiment in the European theater.
Continue reading at Turner Classic Movies
Hell to Eternity plays on TCM on May 29.
Jeffrey Hunter: Intense serenity
King of Kings (MGM)
Nicholas Ray’s 1961 epic drama of the story of Christ (and ostensible remake of Cecil B. DeMille’s 1927 silent classic) has less spectacle than the other epics of its era but it remains one of the most interesting and perceptive Biblical epics of its era. Narration (by Orson Welles) takes us back to the Roman invasion of the Holy Land and the enslavement of the Jews, setting the historical and social backdrop against which the familiar stories—the Nativity, the baptism, the apostles, the betrayal, the crucifixion and resurrection—play out, with blue-eyed Jeffrey Hunter as the calmly intense Jesus preaching peace with the passion of in his eyes and a gentleness in his carriage. Robert Ryan is a magnificent John the Baptist, a rough-hewn peasant touched by divine inspiration and following his faith to the end, and Rip Torn makes Judas a fiercely dedicated revolutionary fighting to free his people from Roman bondage at the side of Barabbas (Harry Guardino). In Jesus, he sees the man who will lead them, but he fails to hear his message of peace.
King of Kings is arguably the most revolutionary of any screen story of Christ (as least until The Last Temptation of Christ), putting Christ’s message of peaceful resistance next to the armed rebellion led by Barabbas and Judas, and offering Judas as a misguided apostle who believes his betrayal is part of Christ’s plan. He’s right, of course, but for the wrong reasons—he foresees an Old Testament showdown with Christ as a holy Samson or a modern Moses tearing down the walls as he faces down the enemy—which makes him more of a tragic figure than a villain. There are plenty of weaknesses in the film, from some awkward performances and risible dialogue to clumsy scenes (some of which can be attributed to interference). But whereas detractors dismissed the films as “I Was a Teenage Jesus,” it’s more accurate to describe it as “Rebel With a Cause.” The Blu-ray debut of this Samuel Bronston production, shot in Spain on 70mm, looks superb and includes the overture, entr’acte and exit music of the original roadshow presentation. The supplements are threadbare, consisting of a vintage featurette, newsreels of the premier and the trailer.