Unconquered (1947) is a miracle of bad filmmaking. This is Cecil B. DeMille overindulging himself for two and a half hours, offering us a healthy heaping of camp, costumes, sexual titillation, and over the top action.
Where does one even begin? The characters are all idiots who wander from scene to scene, somehow surviving an onslaught of ridiculous events ranging from plunging from a waterfall to surviving an attack courtesy of offensive Native American stereotypes. Poor Paulette Goddard finds herself spending 75 percent of the movie trussed up, leered at, threatened with phallic objects, and in her undergarments, usually several of those things at once. I'm surprised the Code was okay with such sadomasochistic elements in the picture, but maybe they just laughed it off because it was so silly.
The cast is made up of a talented bunch, but their performances are largely uneven. Gary Cooper, Paulette Goddard, and Boris Karloff seem embarrassed to be there and alternate between being wooden and cartoon-y. Only Howard Da Silva as the lecherous villain comes off with his dignity intact, knowing that when you're in schlock, you have to go gloriously all out with the camp.
The whole look of the film is studio-bound and garish, so it's not visually appealing either. If you are a connoisseur of kitsch or have a group of like-minded friends, then this turkey is a fun one.
