Captain Dinsdale (1969)

D. Cy Endfield
Colour

For someone writing a blog about neglected films with that touch of quality, the career of Mr Michael Caine is a godsend. There are so many forgotten movies, spanning so many different genres, that one sees it as a possibly never ending bounty. On a recent visit to Ireland, I found in my in-law’s cottage a newspaper box-set of Michael Caine films from the 70s and 80s, half of which I had never heard of. It has long been a hobby of mine to seek out strange and little-remembered films, and half of them I hadn’t heard of. And the great thing is, even though quality control has never been particularly high on the agenda, Michael Caine is always a class actor. Rarely will you see him sleepwalk through a film. True, he may aim for a higher performance in some movies than others, but you don’t ever see him coast. There’s always a spark of quality, a glint of something worthwhile.

So we have dozens, if not a hundred-plus films that have been pretty much forgotten but are made worthwhile by Caine’s performance.

What are we waiting for?

Sean Connery had ‘Shalako’, Elvis Presley had ‘Charro’ and Caine had ‘Captain Dinsdale’, each of them an attempt by the Hollywood studios – for whom westerns had been a staple since John Wayne swapped his bib and dummy for a six-shooter – to tap into these new young stars and that Spaghetti Western vibe. No longer would the good guy wear a white hat, no longer would one hero bring justice to a righteous town, instead there would be moral anarchy, bloody chaos and nihilism in what was now the brutal wilderness of storybook America.

Caine is the eponymous Captain Dinsdale, a British soldier now working as a bounty hunter and charged with bringing three outlaws across the desert to a military stockade. Still dressed in the battered reds of Her Majesty’s uniform, Caine rides stern faced across the desert looking like his character from ‘Zulu’ gone west and gone to seed. The convicts in his charge are the over-qualified trio of Robert Duvall, Robert Wagner and Robert Stack – and the four of them bicker and fight as they make their way over this endless sand. (Throughout it, as befits a soldier of Her Majesty’s army, Caine refers to each of these convicts by his surname. I like to imagine though that each character kept his real first name and that in other – more perverse – hands this would have become a distinctly confusing film. Gus van Sant’s ‘Gerry’ with more kick-ass explosions.) The hot sun bakes down and our foursome looks likely to plod on forever, until one day they see a green train, and Caine hatches a plan.

It might sound silly written down to think that a captor would start plotting with his captives – the three Roberts – each of whom he has spent the first half an hour of the film bickering with, the moment some easily got loot arrives in the story. But Caine manages to sell it. He is this hard and unyielding soldier, a man of determination, but not one to miss an opportunity. Before long the four of them are working together in the desert heat and we all know that cross and double cross and most likely triple cross and even quadruple cross squared are all making their way up the track.

Neither of the aforementioned ‘Charro’ or ‘Shalako’ is worthy of any note, but ‘Captain Dinsdale’ is a tense and finger-nail biting thriller. Essentially a chamber piece for the four actors, the film manages to be claustrophobic even in the expanse of the desert. Of course Caine and Duvall are by far the best performers on show and it boils down to a clash between the two of them – with Duvall excelling as the shifty, lisping, possibly gay con with an eye for the chance. It’s a characterisation which is always going to clash with Caine’s faded martinet.

Sir Michael is equally superb as Her Majesty’s soldier transported to the Western desert and remaining ever-so British. More than that, he remains ever-so cockney. It’s a wonderful performance, because it’s so incongruous in that dusty setting. Yes, this is the Michael Caine who became a Hollywood star, but it’s also the one who was Alfie and he never lets you forget it. The name ‘Alabama’, for instance, is curled so delightfully out of his South London tongue that it ends up sounding like somewhere just beyond Tooting Bec and left.

I’d recommend ‘Captain Dinsdale’ for its tense set up, great acting and by the end loads of stuff just blowing up while Caine stares impassively on. I’d recommend it for Caine’s sandy battered uniform, Robert Duvall’s ginger wig and the look on Robert Stack’s face the moment he clearly realises that the two younger actors have much better parts than he does. I’d recommend it for the bright sunlight, the chaos of the conclusion and the way Duvall stretches out the word “casssshhhh” with such vainglorious glee. I’d recommend it for Caine’s unremitting Elephant and Castle tones and the look on his face which says he knows how far he has come. And finally I’d recommend it for the sight of Sir Michael’s skin in the desert heat, and how by the end of the film he genuinely and marvellously does look like an overdone baked potato in military uniform.