THE MOUNTAIN

New Zealand Listener, Volume 37, Issue 938, 2 August 1957, Page 16

THE MOUNTAIN

| (Paramount) G Cert. ONEY rather than the mountaineer’s subtler rewards is the motive for the big climb in The Mountain. On the great peak above the village where Zachary Teller and his young brother Chris live, an airliner has crashed. From the air there’s no sign of life, and winter makes difficult an ascent on foot. When Chris decides to attempt it for the loot that must lie in the wreckage, his horrified brother, a former guide, sets out also simply because he is used to taking care of him. The corrupting influence of wealthy outsiders on the younger Teller, the relations between the brothers, the character and way of life of Zachary in his home in the quiet village, come across strongly in the opening sequences; and it’s in the village again that the story ends. But the climb’s the thing, and this one with its fatigues, dangers, fears you'll make with pounding heart. I can vouch from my own experience for the authentic feeling of the first few thousand feet in the early morning. But it’s higher that the greatest dangers lie, and without lapsing into melodrama the film captures them in some exceptionally fine VistaVision photography. The Mountain is a study of character even more: than an adventure story, and this it conveys equally well. As the ageing, craggy Zachary, Spencer Tracy plays as well as he has ever done -with a lesser actor some of the quieter passages might have become tedious-and Robert Wegner is impressive as the sullen, ruthless brother. Among other, less familiar faces Claire Trevor is a widow who wants to marry Zachary. This is not the greatest climbing film ever-it hasn’t the sustained, almost unendurable tension of White Hell-but it is a very good piece of work. Based on

Henri Troyat’s novel, it is directed by Edward Dmytryk with Franz Planer behind the camera