



Unusual and intense WWII film set in a military prison in Libya (shot in southern Spain). As an attempt by Sean Connery to find a future as an actor beyond James Bond, it is a big success. He is superb in a fine ensemble cast, with Ossie Davis also memorable as a Caribbean prisoner who unilaterally quits the British army.
There's a hilarious finale when he strips off his uniform in protest. But it's not a spoof. This is an examination of the psychology of hierarchy and oppression. Like a premonition of the Stanford prison experiment. It mostly sidesteps allegory for a forensic look at the bureaucratic, pitiless, idiotic abuse within armed forces.
Connery is the nonconformist who stands up to the system and the barbaric Sergeant Major (Harry Andrews). But the oppressiveness of the desert prison is mostly channeled through Oswald Morris' glistening b&w photography, with the distorted close ups, eye popping edits and the feel of the overwhelming heat of the sun.
Sidney Lumet directs with liberal intelligence and an artistic eye. There isn't a great deal of plot, this is all about the performances and the ideas; a vision of collective insanity. The theme of individualism is more relevant to the sixties than wartime. But as a depiction of the brutality within the British military, it's timeless.
The Hill is absolutely classic Lumet—just not in New York. This time we’re stuck in a sweltering British military prison in North Africa during WWII, where sweat and tension ooze from every frame, calling to mind the claustrophobia of 12 Angry Men. The first half lingers a bit too long on the sweaty macho misery, but once the story kicks into gear, it’s full throttle to the end. Sean Connery is impressively restrained, simmering beneath the surface, but it’s Ossie Davis who steals the show. You could easily believe Da Mayor from Do the Right Thing is the same man—just older, and still refusing to bow.