Destry Rides Again (1939) + The Flight of the Phoenix (1965) – DVDs

DESTRY RIDES AGAIN
***/**** Image B+ Sound A
starring Marlene Dietrich, James Stewart, Brian Donlevy, Charles Winninger
screenplay by Felix Jackson, Gertrude Purcell and Henry Mayers, based on the novel by Max Brand
directed by George Marshall

THE FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX
***/**** Image A- Sound A
starring James Stewart, Richard Attenborough, Peter Finch, Hardy Kruger
screenplay by Lukas Heller, from the novel by Elleston Trevor
directed by Robert Aldrich

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover The word "clever" can be used as a compliment or an insult–it's either a means of saying how ingenious you are, or a way of showing how far you are from being "intelligent." The same goes for the star rating, which can be used to mark a sleeper that shows some real talent or to warn you that something is "only entertainment"–when is three stars just right, and when is it not enough? This is the conundrum that faces me in reviewing Destry Rides Again and The Flight of the Phoenix, two films completely separate in time and subject matter, but which both rate about the same in terms of their achievement. But despite their equal entertainment value, I have a better feeling about Phoenix than I do about Destry: it's more creative and resourceful, even if it doesn't come off perfectly. That doesn't mean you shouldn't see Destry, though it is an indication that you shouldn't raise your hopes too high for it–and that you might be surprised by the lesser-known Phoenix.

My Destry Rides Again reservations stem partly from its wildly inflated reputation–it's simply not rich enough to withstand the hosannas of the classic-movie buffs who have somehow lodged it in the pop canon. Nevertheless, it has plenty to recommend it, beginning with a plot that concerns a western town, Bottleneck, so beset by corruption that Kent (Brian Donlevy) bumped off the local sheriff after he got wind of his plans for a cattle grab. The town drunk, Washington Dimsdale (Charles Winninger), is named the new sheriff; determined to stay in office, he brings in the son of a veteran lawman–Tom Destry, Jr. (James Stewart)–as his deputy. Imagine Dimsdale's surprise when the younger Destry refuses to even carry a gun.

Sure enough, the film holds your interest throughout its entire 94 minutes. Stewart is surprisingly authoritative in the role of Destry, Jr., neither as dithering nor as homespun as he is in subsequent roles; it's easy to understand his success without a pistol, as he doesn't need to emphasize points with gun blasts. And he serves to anchor the film, which is a whirl of gunfights, saloon parties and numbers by the redoubtable Frenchy (Marlene Dietrich to you), whose "See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have" is justly remembered as a high point. There's not a moment in the film that doesn't crackle with some intrigue or that sticks out as being unnecessary–this is a well-oiled machine that carries out its function as entertainment with a minimum of fuss. So what could I possibly object to?

Simply the fact that it's just an entertainment machine–Destry Rides Again is wholly devoid of subtext. One is encouraged to take it at face value and enjoy the ride, and there's no real significance to Destry's struggle to rid the town of cheats and killers beyond the requirements of the genre. This places a ceiling on how much you can invest, as it all seems like just a day in the park–vaguely related events happen one after the other and end in (an admittedly wild) climax, like every other narrative you've ever encountered. Not even the stylistics give the film much portent, as George Marshall is good at keeping things well-lit but has no eye for the striking composition that gives a scene metaphorical weight. You get to laugh, you get to root for the good guy, but you don't get any sense of the world beyond the fact that it's not very nice to cheat cattle ranchers. Though the picture will entertain you, chances are it won't stick.

While The Flight of the Phoenix doesn't share much with Destry Rides Again besides Jimmy Stewart and a generally dry climate, the comparison illustrates the difference between a professional piece of entertainment and a minor but organic piece of popular art. This time Stewart plays Frank Towns, an aging pilot for an oil company whose airplane is in a sad state of disrepair. Making a flight over the Sahara, the plane experiences engine failure and crashes; after a long interval, it's obvious that Towns's crew won't be rescued and will have to make their own luck. Luckily, they have on board one Heinrich Dorfmann (Hardy Kruger), a man claiming to be an aircraft designer who insists that they have enough materials to build a makeshift plane out of the existing wreckage. This, naturally, sets the scene for a battle of wills between the crusty pilot saying it can't be done and the perhaps less-than-honest designer who may not be exactly as he alleges.

This is in the bunch-of-guys-in-a-pickle genre that director Robert Aldrich would put to later and more commercial use in The Dirty Dozen. As such, it affords more opportunities for extraneous detail–and thus for renewed interest in its narrative arc. Not only is there an audience surrogate in navigator Lew Moran (Richard Attenborough), there's also the aforementioned bunch of guys: on one end of the spectrum, Capt. Harris (Peter Finch), the regal British soldier who believes too strongly in the indestructibility of his rank, and on the other, "Trucker" Cobb (Ernest Borgnine), a not-overly-bright slob who babbles inanities and generally gets himself into trouble. It's important to mention the personalities involved because the film is all about personality–about the latent qualities within all of its elements rather than how they fit into the narrative machine. It's here that the film distinguishes itself.

On some level, The Flight of the Phoenix isn't really about any more than Destry Rides Again–it's just a group of people working to get themselves home. But it has some sense about the value of those people, and notes the magnitude of their struggle, making it stick out in the mind. Also, Aldrich and writer Lukas Heller ensure that we understand the distinctiveness of each character and the punishing nature of their circumstances–Heller draws vivid personalities and Aldrich ominously uses the desert that surrounds the crash site without being as obvious or repetitive as, say, Lawrence of Arabia. Not genius, perhaps, but pretty inventive work from people who could have easily gone on autopilot. The Flight of the Phoenix is minor, but it has a human face–which is why its three stars mean more than Destry's.

THE DVD
As far as DVD rendering is concerned, both Universal's Destry and Fox's Phoenix get fairly high marks. Phoenix has the edge in imaging: the anamorphic transfer captures all of the film's 1.85:1 glory with remarkably fine contrast in colour (considering the limited palette) and excellent shadow detail. The fullscreen Destry is marginally less sparkling, with some jagged edges marring the image, but detailing is still fine and the monochromatic range is suitably wide. Sound is excellent on both discs–Destry is crisp and well-defined, belying its mono origins, while the dynamic stereo track on Phoenix showcases a mix that blends live sound and foley seamlessly. The Destry Rides Again platter is bare-bones, while The Flight of the Phoenix includes English, Spanish and Portuguese trailers–essentially the same trailer each time with different voice-over and subtitles.

• Destry Rides Again
  95 minutes; NR; 1.33:1; English DD 2.0 (Mono); English SDH, French, Spanish subtitles; DVD-5; Region One; Universal
  
• The Flight of the Phoenix
  149 minutes; NR; 1.85:1 (16×9-enhanced); English DD 2.0 (Stereo), English DD 2.0 (Mono), French DD 2.0 (Mono), Spanish DD 2.0 (Mono); CC; English, Spanish subtitles; DVD-9; Region One; Fox