“DON’T YOU CALL THEM TATTOOS!”

By Raymond Benson

Ray Bradbury’s excellent 1951 short story anthology, The Illustrated Man, is one of the author’s most revered works. It contains eighteen tales loosely framed by a narrator who meets a carnival sideshow freak covered in tattoos that “tell stories”—and each entry in the book illustrates one of the tattoos.

“Don’t you call them tattoos!” Rod Steiger belligerently yells at the protagonist of the 1969 film adaptation. “They are skin ill-us-tra-TIONS!” Steiger emotes in his inimitable scenery-chewing way.

And there is the crux of why The Illustrated Man, which was adapted by co-producer Howard B. Kreitsek, doesn’t work too well. Steiger, who plays “Carl,” the illustrated man, had a checkered career marked by many brilliant performances… but also, perhaps, more eccentric and over-the-top ones. His good screen appearances (On the Waterfront, Oklahoma!, The Pawnbroker, Doctor Zhivago, In the Heat of the Night, among others) are truly excellent, and Heat of the Night earned him an Oscar for Best Actor. But then there is No Way to Treat a Lady, Waterloo, and Lolly-Madonna XXX. Steiger’s performance in The Illustrated Man probably falls into the latter category, although he has his moments.

The time is the 1930s (judging from the automobile seen at the beginning). Willie (Robert Drivas) is hitchhiking his way west and stops at a lake for a swim and campout. Carl, the illustrated man, happens to be doing the same. The pair meet, and Carl is unreasonably confrontational and unfriendly, and yet the two men settle down to share coffee (actually, Carl takes it without asking). Then Carl reveals his illustrated body to the shocked Willie and begins to tell his story of how a witch from the future named Felicia (Claire Bloom, Steiger’s wife at the time) entranced him and proceeded to tattoo his entire body (sorry, illustrate his body). Three tales from Bradbury’s anthology are then enacted. “The Veldt” is in the future, and it features both Steiger and Bloom as a married couple with two children who play in a virtual reality “nursery” that reproduces realistic places… in this case an African veldt occupied by hungry lions. “The Long Rain” features Steiger with three other astronauts on Venus, where it’s constantly raining. They’re lost and attempting to find a “sun dome” for shelter, but the men begin to go nuts. “The Last Night of the World” again presents Steiger and Bloom as a married couple who learn that the world will end overnight, so the population has decided to end the lives of their children so that they won’t suffer. There are, of course, twists in all three tales.

There is much to admire about the film. Steiger’s “illustrations”—the makeup and design—are truly magnificent, and kudos should be awarded to the technicians responsible. Jerry Goldsmith’s eerily beautiful score creates a melancholic mood that is quite effective. Bloom is good, charismatic, believable, and gorgeous. Where the movie falls short is in the inelegant writing, clumsy direction, and in Steiger’s odd performance. Sometimes his line readings are just… strange. Maybe that was intentional, but instead of coming off “other worldly,” it’s more like campy bad acting.

This viewer remembers seeing the film in 1969 as a young teen and being taken with the storytelling and mood. It also seemed to be very “adult” (there are flashes of nudity) and was rated “M” at the time (for Mature audiences), a designation later replaced by PG. In those days, the “M” could often lie somewhere between today’s PG and R in terms of sex and violence. Ah, the good old days.

Warner Archive’s new Blu-ray (produced on demand when ordered) looks sharp and clear in its widescreen glory. A short featurette on the creation of Steiger’s makeup and illustrations, and the theatrical trailer, are included as supplements.

The Illustrated Man may not be a perfect Ray Bradbury adaptation, but any Bradbury on screen is better than none.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE