(3 of 3)
Passage to Marseille (Warner). It is just before the fall of France. A freighter, bound from New Caledonia for Marseille, is captained by a brave and gentle Frenchman (Victor Francen). One of his passengers (Sydney Greenstreet) is a professional soldier and a Fascist. An air corps officer (Claude Rains) is blithely unconcerned when he realizes that five derelicts (Humphrey Bogart, Peter Lorre, Philip Dorn, Helmut Dantine, George Tobias) whom the ship picks up are fugitives from Devil's Island. They have escaped in order to fight for France.
In flashbacks they tell Cinemactor Rains the story of their crimes, their sufferings, their escape. It makes for steamy jungle cinematography and theatrical but heartfelt political talk, which barely succeed in suggesting a fantastically heroic, patriotic allegory. Once the men are through talking, the Captain, in the film's best bit of acting, announces the French armistice. Then he secretly sets his course for England. The Fascists stage a mutiny and are defeated. The Fascist radio operator gives a Nazi bomber their position. The bomber's guns rake the decks murderously before Humphrey, Bogart, singlehanded, shoots it down. Cinemactor Bogart slaughters the surviving members of the bomber crew where they stand, afloat on the ruined wing, which is a powerful symbol for vanquished Germany. At the end, the ex-convicts are shown fighting and dying for their country.
There is a lot of ardent acting in Passage to Marseille, a fair amount of excitement, and a large, generous intention to show France, and Frenchmen, at their worst and best. But this important intention, even when it becomes articulate, struggles like a fly in molasses against the pseudo-solemn theatricality with which the film is conceived and executed.
*Some others, past & present: Mary Pickford, Fanchon Royer, Louella Parsons' daughter Harriet.