In the summer of 1969, as America was nervously watching the Apollo 11 astronauts prepare to land on the moon, a much smaller, stranger landing was taking place in movie theaters. It was called Viva Max! , and it asked a question no one was ready for: What if a modern-day Mexican general, mounted on a horse and wielding a dress sword, tried to reclaim the Alamo?
Stream it for Ustinov’s performance. Stay for the strange, uncomfortable feeling that the joke is still on us. Note on availability: Viva Max! is currently available on DVD via the Warner Archive Collection and occasionally surfaces on streaming services like Amazon Prime or Tubi.
What follows isn’t a war. It’s a farce. The local police, led by a bumbling chief (Harry Morgan, in full Dragnet mode), surround the mission. The Texas National Guard rolls in. A cynical reporter (Pamela Tiffin) turns it into a national obsession. And Max, utterly bewildered by his own success, tries to negotiate by demanding a new pair of boots and a pardon for his horse. The film’s secret weapon is Peter Ustinov, the Oscar-winning polymath who could play everything from Nero to Hercule Poirot. His General Max is no villain; he’s a romantic, a fool, and a surprisingly dignified man trapped in a clown’s scenario. Ustinov plays the role with a twinkle that suggests he alone understands the joke.
The supporting cast is a time capsule of 1960s character actors. Jonathan Winters plays a fast-talking, cynical general with a crew cut. John Astin (fresh off The Addams Family ) is a manic press agent. And in a small, sweaty role as a Texas governor, a young character actor named John Hillerman steals every scene.
Critics were brutal. The New York Times called it "a one-joke movie that forgets to be funny." Roger Ebert admitted it had "a few inspired moments" but concluded it was "too gentle for satire, too frantic for realism."
The answer, according to the film’s box office receipts: audiences would rather watch Neil Armstrong take one small step than watch Peter Ustinov take one very silly one.
Viva Max! was not a good movie. But it was a brave one. And in an era where border politics are no laughing matter, a comedy that dares to laugh at the very idea of a border might be exactly what we need—or exactly why Hollywood is too scared to make it today.
In the summer of 1969, as America was nervously watching the Apollo 11 astronauts prepare to land on the moon, a much smaller, stranger landing was taking place in movie theaters. It was called Viva Max! , and it asked a question no one was ready for: What if a modern-day Mexican general, mounted on a horse and wielding a dress sword, tried to reclaim the Alamo?
Stream it for Ustinov’s performance. Stay for the strange, uncomfortable feeling that the joke is still on us. Note on availability: Viva Max! is currently available on DVD via the Warner Archive Collection and occasionally surfaces on streaming services like Amazon Prime or Tubi. Viva Max
What follows isn’t a war. It’s a farce. The local police, led by a bumbling chief (Harry Morgan, in full Dragnet mode), surround the mission. The Texas National Guard rolls in. A cynical reporter (Pamela Tiffin) turns it into a national obsession. And Max, utterly bewildered by his own success, tries to negotiate by demanding a new pair of boots and a pardon for his horse. The film’s secret weapon is Peter Ustinov, the Oscar-winning polymath who could play everything from Nero to Hercule Poirot. His General Max is no villain; he’s a romantic, a fool, and a surprisingly dignified man trapped in a clown’s scenario. Ustinov plays the role with a twinkle that suggests he alone understands the joke. In the summer of 1969, as America was
The supporting cast is a time capsule of 1960s character actors. Jonathan Winters plays a fast-talking, cynical general with a crew cut. John Astin (fresh off The Addams Family ) is a manic press agent. And in a small, sweaty role as a Texas governor, a young character actor named John Hillerman steals every scene. Stream it for Ustinov’s performance
Critics were brutal. The New York Times called it "a one-joke movie that forgets to be funny." Roger Ebert admitted it had "a few inspired moments" but concluded it was "too gentle for satire, too frantic for realism."
The answer, according to the film’s box office receipts: audiences would rather watch Neil Armstrong take one small step than watch Peter Ustinov take one very silly one.
Viva Max! was not a good movie. But it was a brave one. And in an era where border politics are no laughing matter, a comedy that dares to laugh at the very idea of a border might be exactly what we need—or exactly why Hollywood is too scared to make it today.
