This is yet another in a series on trying to get through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition) and write about all of them. I was shooting for a calendar year. Life lifed on me for 5 months, so I've extended it to 14 months. That's two uses of words that aren't verbs as verbs thus far. Let's see if I can get a third in before this is over.
Film 45
45. "The Best Years Of Our Lives" (AFI Rank #37)
I'd not seen this film before. I'm just going to start out right away. THIS is a terrific film. Heartbreaking, poignant, well crafted, full of human joy, melancholy, ennui, jealousy, and greed. It also has a storyline wedged into it that needs to be there...and doesn't. More on that to come.
William Wyler directed this masterpiece, having served in the war himself. Samuel Goldwyn, who produced it, had decided to do a film based on an article he read in August of 1944 about soldiers struggling upon their return home from the war. The film was eventually released after the war had been over for more than a year. Despite Goldwyn knowing the story of soldiers coming home before the end of the war, this film probably would not have the same impact without "everyone" being done with their war service. I'm digressing.
As I said, this is a terrific film. Decidedly about character, and about acting and storytelling, Wyler weaves a trio of tales into one, and somehow, we are kept rapt throughout. Throw in a few cunning camera shots (like above), and you have a masterpiece. Truly. As the film opens, we meet our three protagonists: Al Stephenson (Fredric March), a Sergeant from the 25th Infantry Division, who was a banker before he went to war; Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), a Bombadier who had achieved the rank of Captain, and who had worked as a soda jerk before the war; and Homer Parrish (real life Howard Russell), a Sailor who had worked under the decks of a ship that was sunk, his age is implied to be younger than the other two, as it appears as if he went to war right out of high school. Homer lost his hands in the sinking of his ship, and he sports two hooks, which he uses with great skill and dexterity. The three men are stuck in an airport, waiting to catch an army plane (a B-17 bomber) back to Boone City, a fictional biggish city, apparently modeled after Cincinnati. They wind up catching a ride together, and wind up as fast friends. Their lives continue to intertwine in the ensuing months, and these three men, from wildly different backgrounds, wind up inexplicably close to each other, to the point where Derry stands up in Homer's wedding, while Stephenson looks on. There. I've told you how it ends. Sorry.
What I haven't told you is how wonderful the beginning sequence of this film is. Whenever these 3 are on screen, we feel a sense of loss. We feel them feeling like aliens. The opening shot is Derry trying to catch a plane home. He's told that he can't book anything for (what must be) at least a couple of weeks. We then see a guy crowd him out of the ticket desk, armed with his...golf clubs...who is able to get where he wants to go. He's even told that his luggage is too heavy, and he responds, "That's fine, what's the upcharge." We feel, right away, the immediate impact of so much frivolity in our own lives. And that, ultimately, is what makes this film so great. It makes us feel. It puts us right in the minds/lives of these guys, and makes us understand their plight, and makes us stand up and account for ourselves. If that is even possible.
Another brilliant, brilliant scene is also early in the film, as the new friends share a cab on their way...home. When they arrive at the first home, Homer's house, Homer begs the guys not to make him go home just yet. The scene repeats after Homer is gone, this time it is Stephenson that asks to stay. He lives in a swanky tower, with a loving wife at home (Myrna Loy - who received top billing because she was the biggest star of the day). He also has two children, whom he left as young to mid-teenagers. There's no reason for him to shy away...yet...none of the guys feel like they can go home. Not yet. And that is the point. When will they ever be "home?" This pervades nearly every moment that follows in this film. Nearly.
And that is the flaw in the film. There is a love story shoe-horned into the plot...that feels entirely too "Hollywood." Yes, it exists to further the plot and a couple of characters...but it's not really "necessary." And yet, it is...kinda. Long story short, Derry falls for Stephenson's daughter. Trouble is that Derry is married to Marie, played by Virginia Mayo. Marie fell in love the Derry when he was a soldier, watched him leave, then...maybe...waited for him to return, as she collected his pay...and spent it. Marie, we know, is a woman of loose morals, because when we first meet her, she's most assuredly not wearing a bra. Later in the film, we see her sitting in a chair, exposing leg and slip, while talking to another man. Marie's a gold-digger, and interested in Derry because she thinks he is something. When it's revealed that civilian life is not going to work out for Derry, as he has no employable skills, she is ready to move on. So, Derry needs someplace to land, and to force the issue with Marie...and we get Peggy (Teresa Wright), Al's daughter, and love interest to Derry. Voila. Necessary. But not. Because their relationship, while meant to be real, seems awfully convenient. So. Unnecessary. See? It's both. Dammit.
Mini - thoughts:
1. The soundtrack is abysmal. It's entirely too upbeat at times, and a near constant presence.
2. Hoagy Carmicheal shouldn't act, but the piano sequence with Homer was captivating.
3. There was a lot to explore with the character of Rob, Al's son, played by Michael Hall. It wasn't explored. More to come on this.
4. That's about all.
Maxi-thoughts:
Howard Russell can't act very well. But he can manipulate the hooks he has for hands like a champ. He also does a decent enough job as Homer to make us somewhat believe him. He plays a man coming to grips (heh) with his own handicap, while not wanting to be a burden to others. Homer simply can't believe that he might be worthy of the attention that is necessary to be foisted upon him. He had a girl before he went to war, the girl next door, literally, named Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell). She still loves Homer, and can't understand why he keeps shutting her out, despite many attempts to draw him out of his shell. Ultimately, Homer just doesn't think she should have to live with what he has become. He's dependent on people, and he doesn't want to be. Ultimately, Wilma breaks through, and Homer marries her at the film's conclusion. What's not as familiar is that Howard Russell was given an honorary Oscar for "inspiring veterans everywhere," then...he won the competitive Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. He will likely remain the answer to a trivia question: Who is the only person to win 2 Academy Awards for the same role in one film? This guy.
Myrna Loy and Fredric March are wonderful actors who acted well near each other. I'm not sure that they were "with" each other, but the two of them really did some great work in this. Whether March's wonderful speech delivered to the bankers, or Loy's desperate desire for him NOT to make that speech, the two are obviously very, very skilled. March, in particular, shows so much melancholy, so much pain...we just feel for him. It's a magnificent performance.
That leads me to the biggest maxi-thought. This film, like most great films, asks questions. It asks us to fill in the blanks about what is going on between Al and his son...as the two seem so obviously uncomfortable with each other. It asks us to imagine what these men have gone through, and translate that into what we watch...so that we can feel it. It asks us to think about what costs war carries, not only in terms of physical injury, but in terms of mental anguish, in terms of loss of time, in terms of estrangement. We see three men at the start of the film who instantly become friends...yet are scared to go and be with those closest to them. Why is that? Have they shared something that we can't understand? The film asks us to think about that. War does what it does, it tears human bodies to pieces, but it also tears our relationships to pieces. That is the true cost of war, the silent, broken spirit of human relationship. This film, with all its manipulative tricks laid bare, could have been a completely different experience. Instead, because of its adherence to subtlety, it grabs our attention, shakes us, and says, "Hey, do you get this?" I did. I got it.
So. I guess I liked this one. I liked it a lot. This leaves me only 15 films on the list I haven't seen before. I'm going to get through this, in spite all the time I spent Randying earlier this year. (told you I'd find a third spot for a verb that isn't a verb)
Roger and I are on the same page. Hooray! We saw the same film again! Although, I didn't mention the aviation graveyard. I should have. Roger sums it up pretty well.
No comments:
Post a Comment