Cinema: At Bay in Africa

Guns at Bafasi. In an unnamed African nation, newly promoted to Commonwealth status, Colonel lack Hawkins and Colonist Cecil Parker are discussing the military coup headed by a rebel leader, Jobila. Not a bad sort, really, Jobila. Spent five years in jail.

“Used to take care of my garden,” Parker harrumphs. “He was a lousy gardener. I hope he’ll make a better president.” Obviously, the wind of change wafts through this tart topical melodrama, an updated version of the old favorite about a group of decent, civilized folk marooned in a jungle outpost among hordes of savages. They no longer sing Rule, Britannia! Even the comforting strains of There’ll Always Be an England are but dimly heard, and the tribal chieftains have evolved into smartly uniformed officers with English accents and political ambitions.

Batasi is best when it doesn’t take its enlightened spirit too seriously. Sexy U.N. Secretary Mia Farrow (daughter of Maureen O’Sullivan, Tarzan’s favorite lane in the Africa that was) turns the coup into a coo with John Leyton, a stranded British private. Flora Robson adds snap as a visiting lady M.P., but the pick of the lot is Richard Attenborough. As a starched and polished relic of the Kipling era, hopelessly out of keeping with the age of Kenyatta, Attenborough turns a cliché into a memorable character sketch—etched most sharply when he raises his glass in a brusque farewell toast to the glories of Empire, then hurls drink and all at a portrait of the Queen.