Amazingly, this was begun by none other than Frank Capra but the Hollywood veteran – who would subsequently make no more films – was replaced when his requested budget could not be met by Columbia (though the services of his son as Associate Producer were somehow retained); however, the studio then seemed more acquiescent when John Sturges came on board – given that the picture ended up exceeding the initially proposed budget by some $5 million!
Actually, Sturges had just come from another epic where the protagonists spend much of the time in a cramped environment, i.e. the submarine in ICE STATION ZEBRA (1968); this one, being based on real events and revolving around the novel space program rather than the tired Cold War formula of the Alistair MacLean adventure thriller, was a more significant undertaking – but the end result is nowhere near as entertaining! The film is both solemn and cold: as expected, it’s meticulously detailed – down to the irritating over-use of up-to-date jargon such as ‘So-and-so systems Are Go’, ‘Roger’, ‘Wilco’, etc.
Incidentally, while the presence of an all-star cast may have boosted its box-office potential (for the record MAROONED came hot on the heels of Stanley Kubrick’s even more bewildering but, ultimately, far more entrancing 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY [1968]), it distracts from the unfolding drama: Gregory Peck’s constricted role of the seasoned but stoic overseer would become a staple of 1970s disaster epics – here, he’s the head of the program who has to decide what to do when a shuttle’s re-entry fire malfunctions and the three-man astronaut crew is stranded in space (MAROONED can then be seen as the APOLLO 13 [1995] of its day, though the particular mission that film depicts would only occur in 1970!). An ex-colleague of theirs now employed in the Control Room (David Janssen) is the only one who believes that a rescue mission is possible in the restricted time-frame before the oxygen supply runs out; in fact, Peck has to be prodded by the U.S. President himself to take the challenge during a fairly risible sequence in which, distraught by the precarious situation he’s facing, Peck’s also pulled over on a highway by a couple of cops for over-speeding – even so, this remote chance is almost lost when the launch site is beset by a hurricane! The astronauts are well enough played by Richard Crenna, a hysterical Gene Hackman and James Franciscus – all of whom have wives and kids back home anxiously awaiting the resolution of their fate; when they’re given the chance to talk to them towards the end, the conversations are predictably awkward and touching. In fact, this latter section is the one that generates the most interest and suspense – especially when a Russian spacecraft turns up during the delicate transfer of two of the men (one has opted to sacrifice himself for the sake of the others) to the rescue vessel.
Unfortunately, one of the film’s trump cards back in 1969 – its Oscar-winning special effects – haven’t worn well the passage of time, being exposed by the extra clarity of the DVD transfer; however, this takes nothing away from the splendid cinematography by Sturges regular Daniel Fapp. One final thing: while the movie’s official length is given as 134 minutes, the version I watched ran for only 124 (in PAL mode); taking into consideration the different frame-rate when played in NTSC, it would still leave about five minutes unaccounted for – which I take to be an “Intermission” card, or some such addendum during its theatrical run, which wasn’t included here.
Actually, Sturges had just come from another epic where the protagonists spend much of the time in a cramped environment, i.e. the submarine in ICE STATION ZEBRA (1968); this one, being based on real events and revolving around the novel space program rather than the tired Cold War formula of the Alistair MacLean adventure thriller, was a more significant undertaking – but the end result is nowhere near as entertaining! The film is both solemn and cold: as expected, it’s meticulously detailed – down to the irritating over-use of up-to-date jargon such as ‘So-and-so systems Are Go’, ‘Roger’, ‘Wilco’, etc.
Incidentally, while the presence of an all-star cast may have boosted its box-office potential (for the record MAROONED came hot on the heels of Stanley Kubrick’s even more bewildering but, ultimately, far more entrancing 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY [1968]), it distracts from the unfolding drama: Gregory Peck’s constricted role of the seasoned but stoic overseer would become a staple of 1970s disaster epics – here, he’s the head of the program who has to decide what to do when a shuttle’s re-entry fire malfunctions and the three-man astronaut crew is stranded in space (MAROONED can then be seen as the APOLLO 13 [1995] of its day, though the particular mission that film depicts would only occur in 1970!). An ex-colleague of theirs now employed in the Control Room (David Janssen) is the only one who believes that a rescue mission is possible in the restricted time-frame before the oxygen supply runs out; in fact, Peck has to be prodded by the U.S. President himself to take the challenge during a fairly risible sequence in which, distraught by the precarious situation he’s facing, Peck’s also pulled over on a highway by a couple of cops for over-speeding – even so, this remote chance is almost lost when the launch site is beset by a hurricane! The astronauts are well enough played by Richard Crenna, a hysterical Gene Hackman and James Franciscus – all of whom have wives and kids back home anxiously awaiting the resolution of their fate; when they’re given the chance to talk to them towards the end, the conversations are predictably awkward and touching. In fact, this latter section is the one that generates the most interest and suspense – especially when a Russian spacecraft turns up during the delicate transfer of two of the men (one has opted to sacrifice himself for the sake of the others) to the rescue vessel.
Unfortunately, one of the film’s trump cards back in 1969 – its Oscar-winning special effects – haven’t worn well the passage of time, being exposed by the extra clarity of the DVD transfer; however, this takes nothing away from the splendid cinematography by Sturges regular Daniel Fapp. One final thing: while the movie’s official length is given as 134 minutes, the version I watched ran for only 124 (in PAL mode); taking into consideration the different frame-rate when played in NTSC, it would still leave about five minutes unaccounted for – which I take to be an “Intermission” card, or some such addendum during its theatrical run, which wasn’t included here.