They Died with Their Boots On - Warner Archive Collection

Even the best biopics must be taken with a grain of salt, but a whole shaker-full is required to swallow They Died with Their Boots On, a fanciful portrait of iconic American army general George Armstrong Custer. Though truth almost always comes at a premium when Hollywood chronicles the life of a famous figure, Warner Bros' treatment of Custer is about as authentic as Custer's campaign at Little Bighorn was successful. Yes, it's a well-made, often captivating film, but if you really want to learn about one of the most colorful military officers of the 19th century, hit the Internet or, better yet, read a book.

They Died with Their Boots On certainly reveres its subject. While the screenplay by Wally Kline and Aeneas MacKenzie (who's perhaps best known for co-writing The Ten Commandments) doesn't sugarcoat Custer's bluster, recklessness, and other unsavory - if charming - qualities, it ultimately paints the general as a tragic noble figure instead of a tragic arrogant figure whose questionable judgment and actions led to one of the bloodiest and most disastrous battles in American military history. Yet however one regards Custer - and he definitely has his defenders - there's no denying the high entertainment value director Raoul Walsh brings to his story.

The film opens at West Point in 1857 with the arrival of a pompous, naive, and flamboyant teenage Custer (Errol Flynn) at the famed military academy. Following confrontations with officers, skirmishes with fellow cadets, and a fair amount of tomfoolery, Custer, who has "no regard for discipline, organization, or tactics," graduates by the skin of his teeth. He then serves valiantly in the Civil War (distinguishing himself at the Battle of Gettysburg), romances and marries the lovely Elizabeth "Libbie" Bacon (Olivia de Havilland), and - after a failed stab at civilian life - is granted command of the 7th Cavalry division by his mentor and friend General Winfield Scott (Sydney Greenstreet). The post requires Custer and Libbie move to the Dakota territories, where the climactic and legendary 1876 confrontation between Custer's troops and a huge contingent of Native Americans fighting to preserve their freedom will transpire.

The historical inaccuracies littered throughout They Died with Their Boots On are too numerous to list and denoting them serves little purpose. Yet interestingly enough, playing fast and loose with the truth concerned at least a couple of Warner employees while the movie was in production. In film historian Rudy Behlmer's fascinating 1985 compendium of studio memos, Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951), associate producer Robert Fellows tells a friend the script is a "fairy tale," and screenwriter Lenore Coffee, who was hired to punch up the love scenes between Flynn and de Havilland, worried the egregious disregard for facts might result in a libel suit from the Custer estate. Warner Bros sloughed off her warnings and forged ahead, spending more than $2 million on the film. When released in late 1941, They Died with Their Boots On was a huge hit and Warner's third highest grossing picture of the year.

It's easy to see why. Walsh mounts an impressive, sweeping spectacle that deftly mixes thrilling battle scenes with tender romance and spirited comedy. The showdown at Little Bighorn is a marvel and more realistic than it might seem at first glance. Three extras died and many more were injured during the shooting of the sequence, reportedly because most of them lacked riding experience and couldn't control their horses. The production also took a toll on Flynn, who collapsed from exhaustion at one point and had to be hospitalized, and de Havilland, whose weight fluctuates throughout the film, possibly as a result of the stress and strain she incurred from having to work on They Died with Their Boots On and the Henry Fonda comedy The Male Animal simultaneously.

They Died with Their Boots On marked the first collaboration between Flynn and Walsh, who would direct the actor eight more times between 1942 and 1950, and the last between Flynn and de Havilland, who co-starred eight times between 1935 and 1941. Both partnerships were fruitful and rewarding for all involved, but the one with de Havilland is largely responsible for Flynn's enduring appeal. The chemistry between the two rivals Fred and Ginger and Tracy and Hepburn, but in this particular movie there's a greater depth and poignancy to their connection. That might be because de Havilland's part was meatier than usual and Flynn took his role far more seriously than perhaps any other in his entire career. His turn as Custer stands as arguably his finest portrayal, and the sincerity and gusto he displays help sell the phony story.

The supporting cast, which is chock full of recognizable faces and names, includes a young and typically brash Arthur Kennedy as Custer's nemesis Ned Sharp and an equally young and typically glowering Anthony Quinn as the soft-spoken yet fiery Chief Crazy Horse, who corrals the largest assembly of Native Americans to combat Custer's troops. A raspy-voiced, hyper (and toothless) Charley Grapewin (Uncle Henry in The Wizard of Oz) provides a preview of Walter Huston's Oscar-winning performance in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre in his portrayal of a cantankerous frontiersman; the always marvelous Hattie McDaniel, as Libbie's devoted maid, reunites with de Havilland for the first time since Gone with the Wind; and the rotund Greenstreet uses his patented wiles to steal every scene in which he appears as the gruff, intense General Scott.

So forget the bio in biopic and just accept They Died with Their Boots On as a good old-fashioned military epic and top-notch Errol Flynn vehicle. The rousing tale contains many thrilling moments, an array of fine performances, and lots of period flavor. Though it may ultimately canonize its subject, there are plenty of warts in this portrait of Custer that largely succeeds in capturing his character, but fails to accurately depict his deeds.

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
They Died with Their Boots On arrives on Blu-ray packaged in a standard case. Video codec is 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 and audio is DTS-HD Master Ausio 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 brand new HD master struck from a 4K scan of the original nitrate camera negative yields another pitch-perfect 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 transfer from Warner Archive. From the moment the opening credits flash on the screen, it's evident we're in for a treat, and the quality remains consistent throughout the lengthy 141-minute running time. Excellent clarity and contrast produce a vibrant picture that exhibits plenty of detail and depth, and though grain levels fluctuate a bit, that's to be expected from a movie of this vintage. The image exudes a palpable film-like feel and faithfully honors the cinematography of Bert Glennon, who received an Oscar nomination the very same year for his color work on another Errol Flynn movie, Dive Bomber.

Black levels, especially in the military uniforms, are dense, de Havilland's billowy white gowns are bright, and a wide grayscale brings out textures in costumes, set pieces, and landscapes. Sharp close-ups highlight facial hair, tears, and de Havilland's gorgeous skin, and not a speck of print damage distracts from all the action and romance on display. I don't own the 2005 DVD, but I'll be as brash as Custer and proclaim this Blu-ray to be far superior to any other home video rendering and well worth an upgrade for fans.

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono track meets every demand of this rousing historical western. The meticulously balanced soundscape juggles effects, music, and dialogue with ease, thanks to a wide dynamic scale and excellent fidelity. The sweeping highs and weighty lows of Max Steiner's omnipresent score are crisp and clean, potent bass frequencies add oomph to explosions and galloping horse hooves, and the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire is distinct. Dialogue is well prioritized and easy to comprehend and any age-related hiss, pops, or crackle have been erased. This is a solid track that supplies essential atmosphere to the film.

All the extras from the 2005 DVD have been ported over to this Blu-ray release.

• Warner Night at the Movies 1942 (SD, 40 minutes) - Leonard Maltin hosts this recreation of a typical night at the movies circa 1942. After an introduction that previews the content, the program begins with a three-minute trailer for the Humphrey Bogart comedy All Through the Night. That's followed by a five-minute newsreel that focuses largely on issues related to America's involvement in World War II and includes a war bonds sales pitch from MGM singing star Nelson Eddy. Next up is the two-reel Technicolor short Soldiers in White that features the film debut of 19-year-old Eleanor Parker, who would go on to earn three Best Actress Oscar nominations and memorably portray the bitchy baroness in The Sound of Music. The short salutes military doctors and nurses, chronicles their training, and tosses in some romance. Finally, the seven-minute Looney Tunes cartoon A Tale of Two Kitties, presented here in HD, spoofs the comedy duo Abbott and Costello and includes an early appearance by Tweety Bird, who doesn't quite yet resemble the character we know and love.
• Featurette: "They Died with Their Boots On: To Hell and Glory" (SD, 10 minutes) - The late TCM host Robert Osborne, film historian Rudy Behlmer, and journalist Bob Thomas share their thoughts about the movie, the liberties it takes with Custer's life, and the teaming of Flynn and de Havilland in this breezy 2005 featurette.
• Theatrical Trailer (SD, 3 minutes) - The film's original preview hypes "Errol Flynn in his greatest role!"

Forget the history and enjoy the spectacle and romance. Seventy-five years later, They Died with Their Boots On remains an impressive production and stands as arguably Errol Flynn's finest film. His passionate portrayal of General Custer keeps this western galloping along, and Warner Archive's dynamite transfer struck from a 4K scan of the original nitrate camera negative and remastered audio brings director Raoul Walsh's film to life like never before. Highly Recommended.