WHITE HUNTER BLACK HEART has a good deal going for it, but is dogged by a crucial flaw at the—okay, heart of the matter—the wrong person in the central role. That the same individual produced the 1990 movie (handsomely) and directed it (expertly) turns the story’s personality conundrum—talent, charm and nerve battling fame, ego and whim—in upon itself, drawing you in with promise, frustrating you over a critical misstep. It’s like a well-laid out surprise party, in a cool place with great guests, food and drinks—and then the honoree doesn’t show. Or shows late, loaded and pissed.

In the early 1950’s, roguish American movie director ‘John Wilson’ intends to shoot ‘The African Trader’ on location in Uganda (then run by Great Britain) and the Congo (under Belgian rule). He cajoles his writer friend ‘Pete Verill’ to come along and whip up a script and do some big game hunting—John is hell-bent on bagging an elephant. After they get to Africa they’re joined by producer ‘Paul Landers’ and high profile movie stars ‘Kay Gibson’ and ‘Phil Duncan’. The rugged and exotic conditions are one thing; harder to handle are John’s mercurial nature and challenging behavior.

Peter Viertel co-wrote the screenplay with James Bridges and Burt Kennedy. Taking over from an exhausted James Agee, Viertel had done uncredited work on the script for The African Queen and the colorful experience of making the film spurred his 1953 novel “White Hunter Black Heart”. The 344 pages thinly disguised director John Huston, stars Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn and others involved.

Shot on location in Zambia (standing in for Uganda) and England, the role of Verill/Viertel is smoothly assumed by the compelling Jeff Fahey, 37. Ever-able George Dzundza deftly handles rattled producer Landers (based on the legendary Sam Spiegel). In smaller parts Marisa Berenson as Kay treads softly on hallowed Hepburn ground. As Phil, Richard Vanstone is a barely there stand-in for Bogart; actually mimicking Bogie would’ve been unwise.

But who plays the brilliant, hard to figure, risk-ready rascal John Huston? Aye, there’s the rub: it’s Clint Eastwood. True, Clint is a risk-taker, is both open and evasive, and as a director has done remarkable work. As an actor, he’s gone from wooden to amusing, even exciting, and can be enviably cool and believably harsh. But broad vocal range has never been his strong suit. He makes a valiant (is it brave, foolhardy or both?) attempt to suggest Huston’s lofty-jocular manner of speaking, rangy gait and alternately mischievous or maddening behavioral swings from beguiler to bully. Initially, and for much of the film it feels forced, literally sounds like a put-on, a stretch too far. Huston was 43 when he put everyone thru the rigors of The African Queen; Clint was 59 when he took on this $24,000,000 gamble.

The storyline is intriguing enough, the other characters neatly etched and the scenery, sets, costumes and props are so well integrated and appointed that together they make up for the awkwardness of Eastwood trying to morph into Huston. Since he produced and directed as well, he gets a B+ in those credits. *

Hardly anyone went to see it. A disastrously low $2,300,000 take left it swamped in 141st place for 1990.

110 minutes, with Alun Armstrong, Catherine Neilsen, Clive Mantle, Mel Martin, Timothy Spall and Boy Matthias Chuma.

* The audience will be too awed to care—though the periods accouterments are keen, they did manage to have a story set in Uganda include overview shots of Victoria Falls (Zambia/Zimbabwe), a mere 1,800 miles away.