FanUnity B(uzz)log

Call of the Wild, like The Omega Man before it, is, at best, a mildly entertaining film unworthy of a Charlton Heston performance in the early ’70s, when the actor was at one of the high points of his hammy charm.Based on the novel by Jack London, this poorly-dubbed French production follows the tale of frontiersman John Thornton, who travels with his pal Pete (Raimund Harmstorf) and his faithful dog Buck through the Alaskan north country in a search for gold, encountering a bevy of greedy, unscrupulous folks along the way.

Heston develops a good chemistry with his love interest, the sexy French actress Michèle Mercier. It’s not quite Chuck and Sofia Loren in El Cid, but their flirtations are the second most entertaining aspect of the film. The movie’s high point is a scene where Chuck shoots a pack of wolves that is preying upon a foppish group of goldrushers, and then proceeds to threaten one of the fops with death after he abuses his pack-dogs with a whip. Classic Heston bravado.

Any scene in this movie that doesn’t feature Heston and/or Mercier is pretty much a waste of celluloid. Fortunately for the enduring viewer, though, Call of the Wild improves in the final act, when the relationship between Thornton and Buck is tested more than once in dramatic fashion, culminating in a bittersweet ending that might have jerked a tear if the story leading up to it wasn’t so damn tedious.