THE CAPTAIN HATES THE SEA
Sog.: from the novel of the same name (1933) by Wallace Smith. Scen.: Wallace Smith, Arnold Belgard. F.: Joseph August. M.: Gene Milford. Int.: Victor McLaglen (Junius P. Schulte), Wynne Gibson (signora Jeddock), Alison Skipworth (Yolanda Magruder), John Gilbert (Steve Bramley), Helen Vinson (Janet Grayson), Fred Keating (Danny Checkett), Leon Errol (Layton), Walter Connolly (captain Helquist), Akim Tamiroff (general Salazaro). Prod.: Lewis Milestone per Columbia Pictures Corp. 35mm. D.: 85’. Bn.
Film Notes
Conceived as a riff on MGM’s Grand Hotel, Lewis Milestone’s only Columbia film is a cruise-ship-set madcap comedy, directed with finesse and bolstered by marvellous dialogue.
In the 1930s, Columbia Pictures’ Harry Cohn was busy luring some of the great names in American cinema – Hawks, Ford, Borzage – to his studio with promises of artistic freedom. Lewis Milestone joined them with hopes of realising his dream project, Red Square, a sympathetic exploration of the formation of the Soviet Union. However, when Cohn baulked at the prospect of producing what he feared would be seen as Bolshevik propaganda, Milestone proposed The Captain Hates the Sea instead. It was also he who insisted on giving John Gilbert – the former silent star now struggling with alcoholism – a second chance. Ironically, Gilbert, touching in his final film, effectively plays himself: a charming but troubled alcoholic fleeing Hollywood in search of inspiration, determined to quit drinking. On board the ship, Gilbert’s character reconnects with an old friend, Schulte (Victor McLaglen), who is pursuing a mob boss also travelling on the cruise. The captain of the title, who indeed hates the sea, is played by one of Columbia’s most reliable and likable character actors, Walter Connolly. The film even includes an unexpected cameo by The Three Stooges.
Not long after filming began, Gilbert resumed heavy drinking, and McLaglen followed suit, as did anyone else with a taste for the bottle. Milestone’s ship was now sailing on gin which must have contributed to the film going over budget and ending Milestone’s affiliation with Columbia.
While comedy was not typically Milestone’s forte, he excelled at directing the ensemble cast in a democratic manner, allowing each actor to contribute to the story – a method reminiscent of Jacques Tati’s approach in PlayTime three decades later. The film doesn’t take itself too seriously, embracing a playful tone through its zany narrative. Akim Tamiroff’s character – half-charlatan, half-revolutionary – feels closest to Milestone’s world, a man whose tragic ending delivers one of the film’s most visually striking sequences.
Ehsan Khoshbakht