This
big-screen version of a small-screen hero is as pleasant a diversion as you can
get. Nostalgia pretty much gives it a free pass and in any case the action,
which punctuates the drama at regular intervals, was always going to be
budget-restricted. Despite being in almost constant danger the insouciance of
gentleman thief Simon Templar dictates that the pace is no more than languid.
As the title
suggests, we’re in Mafia country, Templar (Roger Moore) drawn into a Cosa
Nostra succession scenario as the result of a casual encounter with
former bank clerk Houston (Fulton Mackay), later found dead. Houston has
cast doubts on the real identity of Mafia Don Destiamo (Ian Hendry), one
of several contenders to become the next Mafia overlord. Templar sneaks into
Destiamo’s world by pursuing his niece Gina (Rosemary Dexter). Although
outwardly respectable, Destiamo a bit too fond of using his cigar as a weapon
of disfigurement, threatening his blonde English moll Lily (Aimi MacDonald) in
this fashion.
Part of
Templar’s attraction is that, although he has a nefarious side, he is happy to
walk those mean streets and has a strict moral code. And he moves in such
elevated circles that he has a nodding acquaintance with dying Mafia chieftain
Don Pasquale (Finlay Currie) who has yet to pick his successor. The other
part of his attraction is that he’s played with such suaveness by Roger Moore.
For a good chunk of the time someone is trying to knife him, shoot him, blow
him up, capture him, jab him with a truth serum, and generally trying to stop
him. In fending off such attacks, or out-smarting the villains, there’s rarely
a hair out of place. It’s not so much devil-may-care as
devil-is-wasting-his-time with such an imperturbable fellow.
Although the action is pretty
straightforward, Templar is not above a clever ruse – jamming a bus in a
gateway preventing his pursuers continuing the chase – nor an old one such as
tying sheets together to climb out of a window. While Malta stands in for
Italy, the locations still look authentic enough, ancient stone buildings, the
occasional horse pulling a cart. When the action/drama eases up, there’s always
pleasant scenery.
Following
MGM’s success in stitching together into a movie two episodes of The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
television series (which of course had pinched the idea from Walt Disney’s
cinematic re-presentation of Davy
Crockett episodes) it was no surprise that ATV, then under the
control of future movie mogul Sir Lew Grade (Raise
the Titanic, 1980), decided to adopt the same idea. Although The Saint had been showing
on British television since 1962, by the end of its run in 1969 it had stepped
up to bigger budgets, 35mm and colour. Given each episode lasted around 50
minutes, it was relatively simple to devise a two-part programme shown over
consecutive weeks on ITV in Britain and then release it throughout the rest of
the world as a feature film. The first such project was The Fiction Makers (1968)
followed by Vendetta for the
Saint.
Roger
Moore’s movie career had been in limbo since Romulus
and the Sabines (1961) and there’s no doubt that his performance as
Simon Templar and later in another glossier British television series The Persuaders (1971-1972)
made him a candidate for James Bond. While his interpretation of Templar,
especially the wry delivery, does bear some similarities to his incarnation as
007, that only holds true as long as you set aside the year’s supply of
Brylcreem dumped on his hair, the shoulder-padded shoulders and the fact that
he had not yet perfected his trademark move, the raising of the single eyebrow.
While no
match for the quips prevalent in James Bond, Canadian screenwriter Harry W.
Junkin – best known for his television work, his only other movies being a
similar melding of television episodes of The
Persuaders – and John Kruse (Hell
Drivers, 1957) – had some neat one-liners. Despite the obvious
limitations, director Jim O’Connelly (Berserk,
1967) does a decent enough job.
But Moore
carries the show. Ian Hendry makes a passable villain but not a passable
Italian. In general, not surprisingly since most characters were played by
British actors, the accents are all over the place though Moore, courtesy of
squiring Luisa Mattioli (later his wife) manages to deliver his Italian lines
in an acceptable accent. Otherwise, the only one who comes close is Rosemary
Dexter (The Shoes of the
Fisherman, 1968) and that’s because she was Italian. Worth checking
out in the supporting cast are Finlay Currie (Ben Hur, 1959) and Fulton Mackay (BBC series Porridge, 1974-1977).
You can find
a lot wrong with this without looking very hard but if you switch off your
over-critical faculties you will be pleasantly surprised.
(Brian Hannan is a columnist for Cinema Retro magazine. He also runs the web site The Magnificent 60s and is the author of numerous film related books including "The Making of The Magnificent Seven" which was adapted as special issue of Cinema Retro.)
