Here we go again; virtually all the comments posted here are favorable if not mild raves for a movie I found pedestrian at best. It was Widmark's eleventh movie and he had a lot of good stuff behind him and a lot of good stuff to come; this was the middle of three ho-hum entries he was saddled with, preceded by Halls Of Montezuma and succeeded by Red Skies Of Montana, potboilers all. In 1951 it was unorthodox to say the least to make a film without even a female presence let alone a love interest but for reasons best known to themselves, Fox decided it was viable. The main thrust - a martinet disliked by his men until finally earning their grudging respect, was stale even when Sophocles was writing out of Athens and this entry offers no new insights or twists. There's a fairly competent supporting cast led by Dana Andrews, Gary Merrill, Jeffrey Hunter and Harvey Lembeck but don't cancel a whist drive to catch this one.
Review of The Frogmen
