Ira Levin's novels were known for containing outlandish plots that, against all odds, appeared plausible due to the understated way with which they were portrayed. What they were not known for was an intelligent prose style. As such, they were perfect fodder for film adaptations. After 'The Stepford Wives', 'Rosemary's Baby', and 'A Kiss Before Dying' were successfully brought to the screen, 'The Boys From Brazil' was the next viable candidate for the film treatment. And for good reason. It's plot - which I refuse to impart - is so absurd that even William S. Burroughs would do a double take. All the film needed to excel was a fresh-faced auteur with a knack for subtlety and nuance to capture the quiet menace of Levin's novels. Instead, it got Franklin J. Schaffner. Now we have Laurence Olivier as a Jewish grandpa, Gregory Peck as a Nazi (Dr. Josef Mengele, to be precise), and Steve Guttenberg as a Zionist. And that's only the first fifteen minutes...
However, whilst Schaffner abandons any attempt at capturing the quiet menace of the book, he does deliver the sort of well-structured, competently made thriller that an old-school director of his ilk is so adept at making. You're intrigued to follow Olivier's Yiddish caricature around the world as he pieces together the perverse conspiracy, encountering bizarre, scene-stealing characters along the way played by the likes of Rosemary Harris, Uta Hagen (making a rare film appearance), and Bruno Ganz. And you're intrigued to watch a group of Nazis viciously and spectacularly murder a bunch of old guys for no apparent reason, especially when Peck is hamming it up as their leader.
It's a seventies thriller through and through, replete with killer Dobermans and a gloriously Germanic score by Jerry Goldsmith that could legitimately rival the best of Wagner and the Strauss dynasty. You either like that sort of thing or you don't. But for my money, it's cheesy, it's stupid, and it is VERY memorable.
However, whilst Schaffner abandons any attempt at capturing the quiet menace of the book, he does deliver the sort of well-structured, competently made thriller that an old-school director of his ilk is so adept at making. You're intrigued to follow Olivier's Yiddish caricature around the world as he pieces together the perverse conspiracy, encountering bizarre, scene-stealing characters along the way played by the likes of Rosemary Harris, Uta Hagen (making a rare film appearance), and Bruno Ganz. And you're intrigued to watch a group of Nazis viciously and spectacularly murder a bunch of old guys for no apparent reason, especially when Peck is hamming it up as their leader.
It's a seventies thriller through and through, replete with killer Dobermans and a gloriously Germanic score by Jerry Goldsmith that could legitimately rival the best of Wagner and the Strauss dynasty. You either like that sort of thing or you don't. But for my money, it's cheesy, it's stupid, and it is VERY memorable.