Word: nazi
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...half of the title represents the time allotted to a forward looking Nazi shrink (Rod Taylor) for extracting Allied invasion plans from an American intelligence officer (James Garner). His plot: drug Garner, then convince him (with a most elaborate hoax set) that he has had amnesia for six years, is in the tender loving hands of victorious Americans, and can only regain his memory through a "therapy" which consists of telling everything he can remember--i.e. the details of D-Day strategy. If this new-fangled ploy founders, Garner gets turned over to the pudgy S.S. man waiting...
...Temple Bar, the boundary between Westminster and the City, the gun carriage entered the ancient section of London that had been heavily bombed by Nazi planes and was heartened on those long-ago, smoky, red-eyed mornings by the inspiring Churchill presence poking defiantly among the ruins. The cortege moved on through Fleet Street, home of London's press, and then up Ludgate Hill to the strains of Chopin's Funeral March...
What is this? A joke? A nightmare? Insanity? It turns out to be a bit of all three, for headlines, history and the hospital itself are fictions of an ingenious Nazi conspiracy. The date is really June 1944. Only hours remain until Dday, and the man is a U.S. Army major (James Garner) privy to top-secret details of the Allied landings in Normandy. On a mission to Lisbon, Garner has been drugged and kidnaped, smuggled off to the Reich as a corpse. He awakes with six years of his life supposedly lost in amnesia. The story becomes credible...
...fairly standard crew. Unfortunately, once the puzzle has fallen into place, the movie goes to pieces. Hero Garner and Collaborator Saint plow doggedly through the rubble to discover anew that there is nothing like a tight squeeze for bringing people together, while Rod Taylor, as a Nazi medico imbued with Yankee sportsmanship, reveals that he became a menace only to serve mankind. In the frayed formula ending, Writer Seaton has sabotaged his outlandish melodrama, like a man who strides into battle armed with a formidable secret weapon and hobbles out brandishing a mere slingshot...
...sweetest victory as Marshal Foch's chief of staff reading the surrender terms to German generals at Compiegne in 1918, then acceded to his nation's most bitter defeat in June 1940, when as the 73-year-old commander of Allied troops in France, he found the Nazi blitzkrieg so overwhelming that he recommended capitulation before the entire country was overrun; of complications following a broken hip; in Paris. Over the years most Frenchmen have forgiven his lack of fighting spirit, putting it down to age and a lifetime spent thinking in terms of trench warfare...