THE WHITE TOWER

New Zealand Listener, Volume 25, Issue 629, 20 July 1951, Page 19

THE WHITE TOWER

(RKO-Radio) HOSE who have read James Ramsey Ullman’s novel will know that the White Tower is a mysterious peak in Switzerland, so high and treacherous that no mountaineer in the world has succeeded in reaching its top. Shortly after the end of the war six climbers make an attempt which turns out to be a weird, allegorical. sort of pilgrims’ progress. As they proceed it appears from their conversation that the mountain symbolises Life itself, and that the hardships they endure parallel Man’s whole struggle for existence. It is not surprising that such an _ ambitious theme isn’t, brought off with great success in the film, but if it is considered simply as a spirited adventure in which the climbers pit themselves against snow, ice, blizzard and almost insurmountable rock faces, it is well worth watching. The White Tower was directed by Ted Tetzlaff, and although it isn’t as good as his earlier film, The Window, it shows again the talent he has for dramatic presentation. The action proceeds in an inexorable way, with stead-ily-mounting tension, to its climax. There is some striking photography (the film was shot on location in the Alps), and the skills, perils and techniques of mountain-climbing are demonstrated in a fairly absorbing manner. The six climbers are an Italian girl with an Oedipus complex (Valli), whose father had been killed on a previous climb, a decadent-looking American (Glenn Ford), who proves to be true steel underneath; a jaded, middle-aged English geologist (Sir Cedric Hardwicke), an alcohelic French writer on the verge of mental and moral collapse (Claude Rains), a chunky peasant guide (Oscar Homolka), and an ex-Nazi superman (Lloyd Bridges). The climbers are national types and symbols of humanity as well, and the ascent brings out in a rather spurious way the basic natures of each. The Englishman gives up halfway; the ex-Nazi plunges to his death after leaving the others to try and. get to the summit first; the Frenchman wanders off to a despairing suicide in the blizzard; the American almost makes it but is overcome by snow-blindness, and is brought back by the Swiss guide and the girl, who finds that it is better after all to love the living than the dead. The acting is uneven: Valli, Oscar ° Homolka and Claude Rains are excellent; Lloyd Bridges spoils his part by over-playing. But the mystical, pseudophilosophical conversation’ indulged in by the characters.as they ascend is a dead-weight which they could well have discarded. "There is a way to climb: it is done by people together," says Valli. "Individuals may falter, nations may die, but Man himself will never die." The various unoriginal declarations like these with which the dialogue is studded only manage to make what could have been a noble theme pretty banal. I was half-inclined to think that the best piece of philosophy in the film was contained in the American’s remark, . "Why don’t we all go home?"