His Kind of Woman - Warner Archive Collection

For some motion pictures, the story behind the film is more interesting than the film itself. His Kind of Woman is that kind of movie. A casualty of Howard Hughes' megalomania during the billionaire's stint as the head of RKO Pictures in the late 1940s and early 1950s, this film noir/comedy hybrid wanders all over the cinematic map as it takes us on an often aimless journey that's simultaneously entertaining and maddening.

I wanted to tear my hair out more than once while I watched this disjointed, meandering, confusing, and overlong brew that most likely began its life as a taut, tidy noir directed by John Farrow. Hughes, though, refused to leave well enough alone, and once he sunk his claws into His Kind of Woman during the post-production process, bedlam ensued. Determined to beef up the film's comedy and expand its action sequences, Hughes demanded extensive rewrites and retakes. Farrow balked, then walked, so Hughes called upon a young Richard Fleischer to take the directorial reins. When Fleischer demurred, an indignant Hughes - acting much like the mob boss Raymond Burr plays in the film - threatened to permanently shelve what would turn out to be Fleischer's breakout picture, the now classic, bargain-basement train thriller The Narrow Margin, if Fleischer didn't play ball.

Realizing his career was on the line, Fleischer acquiesced and ended up reshooting most of the movie. The retakes took months to complete, and as Hughes continued to tinker with and reshape His Kind of Woman on the fly - even recasting some parts, resulting in even more reshooting - the film's cost skyrocketed and its running time ballooned to 120 minutes. Though it might have been a blessing in disguise, Fleischer received no screen credit for all of his hard work, not to mention the constant headaches he endured while indulging Hughes' whims. When His Kind of Woman was finally released in the fall of 1951, it lost $850,000, which ironically was the exact price tag for all the retakes.

No one will ever know if Farrow's original cut of His Kind of Woman would have been more successful or enjoyable, but it certainly would have been leaner and more focused. In its final form, the film is an often fascinating train wreck that surely reaps more pleasure with each subsequent viewing, as the minutiae of Hughes' meddling can be more closely examined. The actors seem to maintain their cool, but it's even hard for seasoned pros like Robert Mitchum, Jane Russell, and Vincent Price not to look bewildered now and then as the plot takes a series of ludicrous turns.

When deported mob kingpin Nick Ferraro (Burr) decides to sneak back into the U.S. to try and reclaim some of his money, he cooks up a scheme that will enable him to assume the identity of down-on-his-luck gambler Don Milner (Mitchum). Ferraro's gang lures the tough yet amiable Don (whose height and build are similar to Ferraro's) to Mexico, where they promise to pay him $50,000, but won't tell him what for. At the airfield, Don meets Lenore Brent (Russell), who he thinks is a rich, globe-trotting society dame on the prowl for adventure and romance.

The two arrive at a swanky seaside resort and for what seems like an eternity Don wanders around the joint, bumping into an array of motley characters that might well have been plucked from Rick's Café Américain in Casablanca. Sparks, of course, fly between Don and Lenore, but Don's other, myriad interactions are baffling and pointless as the story treads water for at least the first hour. Don doesn't know what's going on and neither do we. The most interesting person he meets is flamboyant Hollywood actor Mark Cardigan (Price), who stars in hokey swashbuckling films and is estranged from his jealous wife Helen (Marjorie Reynolds), who soon pops in unexpectedly to patch things up. A creepy plastic surgeon, an FBI agent, a troubled newlywed couple (the scene in which Don helps the husband reverse his gambling debts at the behest of his distraught bride is a blatant Casablanca rip-off), and thugs galore mingle with Don, too.

Once the head-scratching aimlessness ends, His Kind of Woman veers off in two opposite directions. On the one hand, you have an ultra-serious, high-octane action flick packed with fistfights, tense pursuits, and a nefarious, mad-scientist experiment while on the other, you've got a slapstick comedy peppered with tongue-in-cheek humor and frenetic antics. A shirtless Mitchum á la Bruce Willis in Die Hard dominates the former, and Price, whose part was enlarged per Hughes' edict, hungrily grabs the spotlight in the latter. The two movies unevenly converge at the climax, but Russell is almost nowhere to be found. The titular woman in His Kind of Woman all but disappears during the film's final 40 minutes (she's locked in a closet for most of it!), another puzzling aspect of this enigmatic picture.

The macho Mitchum may look as confused as we feel throughout most of His Kind of Woman, but his smoldering presence and the chemistry he creates with Russell keep the film afloat. (The two would reteam the following year in Macao.) Russell sings a couple of infectious tunes and models an array of sexy swimsuits and elegant gowns, but her sketchily drawn role gives her little to do. Reynolds, who we all remember from the Christmas classic Holiday Inn, supplies some sass as Mark's wisecracking wife, and such recognizable and engaging character actors as Burr, Charles McGraw, Tim Holt, and Jim Backus perk up the preposterous proceedings. The biggest jolt of all, though, comes from Price, who steals every scene in which he appears as the vain, valiant, deluded actor who gleefully tries to play in real life the heroic parts that made him famous on screen.

His Kind of Woman makes little sense, but after the first frustrating viewing the film exudes a kitschy charm that makes its rough patches easier to tolerate. Far from a masterpiece, it's one of those so-bad-it's-good movies that plays better if you check your brain at the door and just roll with the punches. And there are a lot of punches in this farcical thriller that rarely takes itself seriously, so why should we?

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
His Kind of Woman arrives on Blu-ray packaged in a standard case. Video codec is 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 and audio is DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono. Once the disc is inserted into the player, the static menu without music immediately pops up; no previews or promos precede it.

A new 4K scan of the original nitrate camera negative makes His Kind of Woman look like a million bucks. The 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 transfer exudes a lovely film-like feel and showcases the often underrated cinematography of Harry J. Wild, who photographed Jane Russell numerous times, but is perhaps best known for glorifying Marilyn Monroe (and Russell, too) in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Excellent clarity and contrast, superb shadow delineation, and just a smattering of grain produce a detailed image that brims with lush blacks, crisp whites, and nicely varied grays. Sharp close-ups highlight Mitchum's distinctive chin cleft, Russell's allure, Price's trademark mustache, and such fine facial features as pores, sweat, and stubble. No nicks, scratches, or dirt sully the source and only a bit of softness creeps in from time to time. I don't own the 2006 DVD, but it's impossible to imagine His Kind of Woman looking better than it does here. Fans will certainly want to upgrade.

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono track supplies clear, well-modulated sound that's free of any age-related hiss, pops, or crackle. A wide dynamic scale allows the music score by two-time Oscars-winner Leigh Harline, who won one of those statuettes for writing the iconic Disney song "When You Wish Upon a Star," to fill the room with ease, while excellent fidelity adds vibrancy to Russell's vocals during two musical interludes. Sonic accents like airplane engines, gunshots, fisticuffs, howling wind, and hissing steam are distinct and all the dialogue is easy to comprehend. There's a lot going on in His Kind of Woman and this track captures it all without a hiccup.

Warner Archive imports the audio commentary from the 2006 DVD and adds a cartoon and trailer.

• Audio Commentary by film historian Vivian Sobchack
• Vintage Cartoon: Bunny Hugged (HD, 7 minutes) - In this classic Bugs Bunny cartoon, Bugs takes on The Crusher in the boxing ring, and after taking a beating uses his wiles to defeat the muscle-bound bully. 
• Theatrical Trailer (SD, 1 minute)

A kitschy, kitchen-sink of a movie, His Kind of Woman throws a lot at the screen, but only some of it sticks. Mitchum, Russell, and Price try their best, but they all seem to be acting in different movies. Warner Archive's customary classy transfer struck from a new 4K scan of the original nitrate camera negative and remastered audio make the plot more palatable, but can't completely salvage this crazy concoction. Though often maddening, there's some good stuff in His Kind of Woman, which is definitely worth a look for classic film fans.