The Great Escape (1963)

There are a lot of reasons why “The Great Escape” should not be considered a classic movie.

The film is very long, running nearly three hours. It’s claim to authenticity is overblown.

Then, there’s the matter of the ending.

“What type of escape is this?,” legendary producer Samuel Goldwyn once said. “Nobody gets out.”

That isn’t exactly true, but suffice it to say that the mission isn’t an unqualified success.

But the 1963 prison-camp saga is widely regarded, by both audiences and critics alike, as one of greatest of all action-adventure films. It owes that status to a compelling story, enacted by a top ensemble cast and orchestrated by a filmmaker who never received his due.

“The Great Escape” will be shown Nov. 8-9 at Hoquiam’s 7th Street Theatre, as part of the theatre’s Silver Screen Classic series.

The movie is based on a true episode during World War II. Distracted from the war effort by a series of escapes from prison camps, the German high command elects to confine all the escape artists to a single, heavily fortified camp — putting “all the rotten eggs in one basket,” as one German officer tells a POW.

The fundamental flaw of this logic is soon demonstrated, as British officer Roger Bartlett (played by Richard Attenborough) begins organizing the other POWs in an elaborate mass-escape plan that involves simultaneously constructing three tunnels and forging identification and travel documents.

His accomplices include a rebellious American motorcycle buff (Steve McQueen), an American flier with a considerable talent for con artistry (James Garner) and a claustrophobic ex-Polish coal miner (Charles Bronson). Other familiar faces on hand include future Oscar winner James Coburn and current “NCIS” co-star David McCallum.

While acknowledging that some of the characters are composites, a prologue insists that every incident in the film is true. Not quite. There were no Americans in the camp and the film’s two most famous scenes — McQueen’s character jumping a barbed-wire fence with a motorcycle (although McQueen did most of his own riding for this film, a stuntman performed the jump) and Garner attempting to fly a stolen plane to safety — never happened.

Most of this cast is better known today than in 1963. This film made McQueen a star and solidified Garner’s screen persona (first developed in television’s “Maverick”) as a likeable guy with a streak of larceny in his soul.

Bronson gives his finest film performance, although in his case the bar is set pretty low. Attenborough, often cast as a wimp, is excellent in a more forceful role, as is veteran British character actor Donald Pleasence as a gentle ornithologist whose skill as a forger is compromised by incipient blindness.

Considerable credit belongs to producer-director John Sturges for not only the spot-on casting but in holding the production together. This could not have been an easy movie to make.

Garner was threatened with deportation during filming for supporting protesters in a Munich demonstration. Bronson did his bit for cast morale by calmly informing McCallum that he intended to steal away his wife at the time, actress Jill Ireland — and made good on the threat. Bronson and Ireland later married and were still together at the time of the latter’s death.

Upset over the size of his role and his motivation for certain actions, the temperamental McQueen even briefly quit the film until concessions were made. That prompted Garner, years later, to utter the classic quote, “Steve wanted to play the hero but he didn’t want to do anything heroic.”

For that matter, it took Sturges more than 10 years to convince a studio to bankroll the project.

Sturges is seldom ranked among the top filmmakers of his era, in part because of such late-career flops as “McQ,” the John Wayne police drama that was partially shot on Grays Harbor. He received only one Academy Award nomination, for the 1955 drama “Bad Day at Black Rock.”

At his best, however, he was an outstanding director of what might be termed intelligent action-adventure flicks, such as “Bad Day at Bad Rock,” “Escape from Fort Bravo,” “Gunfight at the OK Corral” and “The Magnificent Seven.” His films are usually visually appealing and superbly paced.

Mixing action and suspense with occasional bits of humor (most of the latter provided by Garner or Coburn), “The Great Escape” never seems inordinately long. It also features fully developed characters, a rarity in the action-adventure genre.

If nothing else, Sturges and screenwriters James Clavell and W.R. Burnett merited an Oscar nomination merely for the way they handled the ending. They use Elmer Bernstein’s rousing theme music and a baseball, used as a symbol of defiance, to transform a potentially downbeat climax into a tribute to the indomitable Allied spirit.

Displaying the type of courage that few filmmakers possess, Sturges arranged a special screening of “The Great Escape” to survivors of the actual escape. Despite the historical liberties, they reportedly rewarded him with a standing ovation.

That was a telling endorsement from a group who might not have wanted to do anything heroic, but were heroes nonetheless.