ELEPHANT WALK tramples plausibility into muddy clichés but its exotic setting, capable stars and a whopper finale make for entertaining balderdash from 1954. Sri Lanka has gone by many names over the centuries; it was Ceylon when this was partially filmed there and its fabled tea was harvested from estates still run by British colonial chaps like those veteran screenwriter John Lee Mahin conjured for his script. He adapted from the novel by Robert Standish, the pen name for Digby George Gerahty, who among other things claimed to have invented the Loch Ness Monster. Before Digby turned Standish he worked on tea plantations like those in the story, so there’s some sense of tropical lifestyle milieu behind all the melodramatic malarkey.

Planter ‘John Wiley’ (Peter Finch) takes his new English bride ‘Ruth’ (Elizabeth Taylor) to his sprawling Ceylonese estate but the luxury and scenery turn cool and isolating when John shows emotional baggage (father issues) and moody anger. His mates are boorish boozers and his chilly headman ‘Appuhamy’ (Abraham Sofaer in severe mode) gives Ruth a colder shoulder. Plantation manager ‘Dick Carver’ (Dana Andrews) offers solace but then there’s a darn cholera epidemic to contend with. Not enough, Wiley’s palatial pad lies in the age-old path the regional elephants tread thru and the natives pachyderms are getting restless.

Directed by William Dieterle, the production is well-mounted (a month shot in Ceylon, six weeks on MGM sets in Hollywood) but the $3,000,000 tab was partially the result of delays and re-shoots after Vivien Leigh’s nervous collapse necessitated replacing her with Liz. Taylor, 22 and looking fab, was prominently on view that year, adorning Rhapsody, Beau Brummel and The Last Time I Saw Paris. While there’s nothing wrong with the acting, she didn’t enjoy the picture, nor did her co-stars. Andrews, 44, was plagued by worsening alcoholism, and Finch, 37 and no enemy of the bottle himself, was also upset over the end of his on & off fling with Leigh. She was still married to his friend and benefactor Laurence Olivier, who had been intended to star with her. Irony, then, that the backstage turbulence reflected the screenplay’s theatrics.

It made money—$9,100,000—Liz was the boxoffice draw, her and word-of-mouth about the exciting climax when the title tells true and a herd of the disgruntled foragers crash into and thru the manor house. It’s a bit silly, but rates applause as a spectacle, complete with roars of three-ton rage, fire, trashing the furniture and knocking loose a staircase—neat stuff. With all the misery humans have (are and will) visited upon those incredible creatures, it’s satisfying to see the giants at least get a big-scale pass at some fictional payback. The demolition derby finale makes the whole movie worth a watch.

With Abner Biberman and Noel Drayton. 103 minutes.

* Arrogant plantation types were getting walloped all over the map—by Brazilian army ants (The Naked Jungle), by Mau Mau’s in Kenya (Simba, Something Of Value), Commie rebels in Malaya (The Planter’s Wife), Filipino insurgents (Huk!), even Yankees! (Band Of Angels)…