This film is not without some assets. The music by Martin Salvin is quite good, and so are the environmental sceneries in Trieste, Dubrovnik and Somaliland with nightclubs in dark alleys and scary wild animals in the African wilderness. But that about sums up the credits. The script is not bad, the dialog is not without interest, the plot is far-sought but rather a standard post-war cocktail of war left-overs of traitors and deceits, the central topic being about money, and the main action being a quest for a lost treasure of counterfeit money appropriated by deceit and blackmail. A nice kettle of soup of a random extravagant intrigue, if James Bond had been into it, but he isn't, and John Bentley as Steve is a very poor substitute, cool and superior enough but hardly convincing with middle-aged obesity and unshaved crudeness of a face, like something between Walter Matthau and Fred MacMurray, with no sense of humour and not even funny. The ladies are ordinary Barbie types with hidden daggers like in any cheap spy thriller, while the best actor is Ferdy Mayne as Mario. John Gabriel as the villain going crazy is exaggerated, and Fetan Hamamah is quite right in laughing him down to ridicule. Anita West sings a song at a nightclub, but not even that is impressive. The elephants are impressive though, and so is the old man Vladimir Leib as Litov, a deaf and mute invalid playing the piano quite expertly, and his one introductory scene is the best in the picture. The worst thing that can be said about this film is the direction, which is totally without engagement and merely formal, leaving no after-taste, no nuances, very little human feelings and just a general cynical callousness. The story offers materials for a good thriller, but that is not well taken care of. Fools make fools of themselves, and that's that.