Led by a heroic westerner, hundreds of orphans escape a bloody Asian war zone; while "Inn of the Sixth Happiness" comes to mind, Douglas Sirk's 1957 film, "Battle Hymn," has a similar inspirational climax. Unfortunately, Rock Hudson is no Ingrid Bergman, and, frankly, he is no Colonel Dean E. Hess either, who was the real-life individual upon whose exploits this movie was loosely based. Hess was a minister, who harbored guilt for the accidental bombing of a German orphanage during World War II. Despite the support of his glamorous 1950's wife, a perfectly coiffed, made-up, and garbed Martha Hyer, who does wonders with a minister's salary, Hess begins to doubt his religious vocation and re-enlists in the Army Air Corps when the Korean War breaks out. Assigned to train an undisciplined squad of airmen, which is headed up by an old pal, Don Defore, Hess sheds his ministerial tone and becomes a hard ass to shape up the men; however, faster than whiplash, Hess melts into a softy when faced with hungry Korean orphans, who invade the camp. Before long, Hess is diverting military supplies, utilizing government-issue vehicles, and using his own and his men's time in the noble pursuit of aiding the orphans, rather than fighting the war he was sent to win. If the film were true to fact, Hess could have been brought up on charges for misuse of government property during wartime.
Produced by Ross Hunter, audiences might expect a movie-star of Hudson's looks and shallow talent to be ably supported by Lana Turner as his wife and Sandra Dee as a Korean in charge of winsome orphans out of Central Casting. However, "Battle Hymn" does offer the daughter of a Welsh factory worker, Anna Kashfi, as En Soon Yang, a Korean-Indian with a yen for Hudson and tenderness for orphans. Sporting a long white beard, Philip Ahn depicts a stereotypical aged Asian, who imparts homilies of quasi-wisdom that sound profound. Veteran Dan Duryea lends a comic touch as a Sergeant, who purloins military supplies, such as chewing gum and candy, for the hungry tykes; with that diet, little wonder the Korean kids look catatonic and dazed throughout the film.
After a stilted opening, in which a uniformed Air Force general tells the audience how pleased he is that this story could be told, the glossy production begins, and the Hollywood hokum dreamed up by writers Charles Grayson and Vincent B. Evans unfolds. The trite dialog and clichéd situations suit the wooden acting, which is occasionally interrupted with a strained attempt at humor; occasionally, the mood is so light it resembles "MASH" in its irreverence towards war. Ross Hunter films always have a polished look; the production values are high, and the sharp cinematography by Russell Metty stretches across a Cinemascope screen. Unfortunately, the score by Frank Skinner will have eyes rolling; utilizing "Battle Hymn of the Republic," "Swing Low Sweet Chariot," faux Oriental themes, and bombastic military music, the schizophrenic soundtrack evokes laughter at the wrong times.
Whatever the true story of Colonel Hess, which has largely been forgotten by time, "Battle Hymn" does not do him justice. Despite Douglas Sirk at the helm, the film is all surface gloss with a veneer of hokey inspirational overtones; a few standard air-combat sequences interrupt the melodrama with too many head-in-a-helmet shots of Hudson and DeFore. "Battle Hymn" may be on must-see lists for Sirk and Hudson completists and those eager to glimpse P-51 Mustangs, but others will likely find the film a forgettable unconvincing slog.
Produced by Ross Hunter, audiences might expect a movie-star of Hudson's looks and shallow talent to be ably supported by Lana Turner as his wife and Sandra Dee as a Korean in charge of winsome orphans out of Central Casting. However, "Battle Hymn" does offer the daughter of a Welsh factory worker, Anna Kashfi, as En Soon Yang, a Korean-Indian with a yen for Hudson and tenderness for orphans. Sporting a long white beard, Philip Ahn depicts a stereotypical aged Asian, who imparts homilies of quasi-wisdom that sound profound. Veteran Dan Duryea lends a comic touch as a Sergeant, who purloins military supplies, such as chewing gum and candy, for the hungry tykes; with that diet, little wonder the Korean kids look catatonic and dazed throughout the film.
After a stilted opening, in which a uniformed Air Force general tells the audience how pleased he is that this story could be told, the glossy production begins, and the Hollywood hokum dreamed up by writers Charles Grayson and Vincent B. Evans unfolds. The trite dialog and clichéd situations suit the wooden acting, which is occasionally interrupted with a strained attempt at humor; occasionally, the mood is so light it resembles "MASH" in its irreverence towards war. Ross Hunter films always have a polished look; the production values are high, and the sharp cinematography by Russell Metty stretches across a Cinemascope screen. Unfortunately, the score by Frank Skinner will have eyes rolling; utilizing "Battle Hymn of the Republic," "Swing Low Sweet Chariot," faux Oriental themes, and bombastic military music, the schizophrenic soundtrack evokes laughter at the wrong times.
Whatever the true story of Colonel Hess, which has largely been forgotten by time, "Battle Hymn" does not do him justice. Despite Douglas Sirk at the helm, the film is all surface gloss with a veneer of hokey inspirational overtones; a few standard air-combat sequences interrupt the melodrama with too many head-in-a-helmet shots of Hudson and DeFore. "Battle Hymn" may be on must-see lists for Sirk and Hudson completists and those eager to glimpse P-51 Mustangs, but others will likely find the film a forgettable unconvincing slog.