1959: Ben-Hur.

Messala (Stephen Boyd) and Judah Ben-Hur (Charlton Heston) in one of their last friendly moments.

Release Date: Nov. 18, 1959. Running Time: 222 minutes. Screenplay: Karl Tunberg, Maxwell Anderson (uncredited), S. N. Behrman (uncredited), Gore Vidal (uncredited), Christopher Fry (uncredited). Based on the novel, Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ, by Lew Wallace. Producer: Sam Zimbalist. Director: William Wyler.


THE PLOT:

Judah Ben-Hur (Charlton Heston) is a prince of Judea, and he remains both wealthy and influential despite the Roman occupation of the region. Judah, his mother, and his sister are all overjoyed when his childhood friend, Messala (Stephen Boyd), returns from Rome as second in command of the province.

Their joy is short-lived. Messala is ambitious, determined to build his name by silencing the rebellious murmurs among the conquered Jews. When Judah refuses to help, Messala takes it as a personal betrayal. Not long after, an accident injures Judea's new Roman governor - giving Messala the opportunity to arrest Judah and his family. Judah's mother and sister are imprisoned, while he is sent off as a galley slave.

Three years later, Judah's fortunes shift again when he saves the life of the fleet commander, Quintus Arrius (Jack Hawkins). Arrius frees him, and Judah becomes his champion in the Roman chariot races. With the protection of Arrius's backing, he returns to Judea to search for his mother and sister and to gain revenge on Messala through an entirely legal avenue: by challenging him in the next chariot race!

Years as a galley slave strengthens Judah's thirst for vengeance.

CHARLTON HESTON AS JUDAH BEN-HUR:

Heston had delivered one of his best performances for director William Wyler's previous film, The Big Country, and he's almost as good here. His nonverbal reactions are particularly effective, from the openness of his grin when first reunited with Messala, to the glint of hatred in his eyes when he's rowing in the galley.

Even early on, when Judah is wealthy and content, he has a temper. When Messala presses him for names of dissidents, he snaps at him for trying to make him betray his people. Instead of trying to diplomatically deflect Messala, he marks himself as an enemy by proclaiming: "The day Rome falls there will be a shout of freedom such as the world has never heard before!" Never mind the later accident; had he been just an ordinary citizen, it's a near certainty that Messala would have arrested him just for speaking those words.

Heston is excellent whenever he's portraying strong emotions. All of that said, I don't think his performance is as strong as in either The Big Country or 1968's The Planet of the Apes (my single favorite Heston performance). As good as he is in the angry scenes, he's much less successful when called upon to be contemplative. Instead of seeming thoughtful in quiet moments, he mostly comes across as wooden.

Judah's fortunes change when he saves the life of Roman consul Qunitus Arrius (Jack Hawkins).

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Messala: He's ecstatic at reuniting with Judah, clearly wanting to pick up their friendship where they left off. But he's also drunk deeply of the Roman Kool-Aid. When Judah observes that he speaks of the Emperor as a God, Messala doesn't hesitate in responding: "He is God. The only God. He is power, real power on Earth!" Thus, when Judah has his outburst, denouncing Rome as evil, Messala sees that as every bit the betrayal he inflicts on his old friend. Yes, he uses Judah as an example to strengthen his position - but I suspect he'd have been less cruel had Judah not first torn so vehemently into one of the core tenets of his identity.

Quintus Arrius: Second-billed Jack Hawkins makes the most of his very limited screen time as Judah's Roman benefactor. Taking command of the fleet, Arrius notices Judah immediately, mainly for the unbroken defiance in his eyes. Arrius commends him on it: "You have the spirit to fight back, but the good sense to control it." A lifelong military man, he lost his son years earlier, presumably in one of Rome's many military campaigns. He comes to see Judah as a surrogate son, championing his innocence to the emperor and even legally adopting him - granting Judah the power of his name to protect him from Messala when he returns to Judea.

Esther: When we first meet her, she's about to be married, but it's apparent that she's as smitten with Judah as he is with her. Since we never see her intended husband and she specifically states that she's barely met him, there's no viewer discomfort in their early interactions. Outside of being Judah's Designated Love Interest, she also acts as his conscience. All of this is pretty stock stuff, but it must be said that Israeli actress Haya Harareet is captivating on film, her eyes wide and expressive as she implores Heston's vengeful Judah not to resort to violence.

Esther (Haya Harareet), Judah's love interest and conscience.

THOUGHTS:

Given the proliferation of Biblical epics in the 1950s and '60s, it's somewhat surprising that Ben-Hur is the only such film to win Best Picture. Still, if only one was going to win, at least they picked right. This movie is glorious entertainment, offering up spectacular set pieces in service to a gripping story.

Question: When classic filmmakers are discussed, whey is William Wyler so often overlooked? His movies, even the largest scale ones, were centered around characters, but he blended that character focus with moments of pure cinema: Dana Andrews' haunted war veteran in The Best Years of Our Lives, walking through a graveyard of fighter planes that are no longer of any use, mirroring his own feelings about himself; the fistfight between Gregory Peck and Charlton Heston in The Big Country, shown in longshot to emphasize both the smallness of these men against the land itself and how ultimately meaningless their conflict is; and the set pieces in Ben-Hur, which always return to the characters and who they are.

There are several moments that stand out. Messala, sharing a meal with Judah's family, presents his sister with a gift: a brooch he took from a campaign in Libya. He casually talks about Libya's capital, completely conversational as he describes destroying the city - an early indication of his ruthlessness, and also a warning to Judah. After Judah is sentenced, Quintus Arrius is introduced testing the slaves with a full drill. As he keeps demanding increased speed, some men fall out of rhythm and are beaten. More speed, and a couple of slaves collapse. Arrius sits impassively throughout, his attention firmly on Judah, who keeps every new pace that's set. He's too focused to meet Arrius's gaze - but every time he looks up, his face is set in defiance.

Then there is the greatest of the movie's set pieces...

The chariot race: An iconic Hollywood action scene.

THE CHARIOT RACE:

This is still considered to be one of Hollywood's greatest action scenes and with good reason. It's masterfully shot and structured. The setting is established first, as the contestants parade around the loop before the race begins. Few of the shots of the race are from above, and all such shots are during the first, least instense portion. We're mostly kept close to the racers, the camera right behind Judah as he gains on the other contestants while going around the curve, or directly in front of Judah or Messala during the contest.

Just before the most suspenseful portion of the scene, we see Messala knock another racer out of his chariot. The man makes a well-timed jump to evade the horses coming at him - only to almost instantly be trampled by another chariot. It's a brutal moment that makes real the danger we've previously merely been told, and it comes just before the focus narrows to only Judah and Messala, who are now shown on screen together as their battle reaches its endpoint.

The sequence is breathtaking, superb filmmaking even just on a visceral level - but it's also notable for how it returns constantly to the two characters, with the final struggle effectively a stand-in for their entire conflict, their former friendship having devolved into a mutual, raw hatred.

Judah receives a very important cup of water.

BEN-HUR AS A RELIGIOUS MOVIE:

Remember when religious movies were made for all audiences to enjoy, rather than deliberately excluding secular viewers? Ben-Hur is a religious movie, based on a book subtitled, "A Tale of the Christ." For most of its running time, the religious elements are a backdrop to the drama of Judah's search for his family and for vengeance, but that element still remains a constant presence.

The prologue doesn't feature or even mention the Ben-Hur family. Instead, we open on the birth of Christ. The filmmakers keep this short, portraying just a couple of key moments through familiar, even pageant-like visuals. The wise men watch and follow the Star of Bethlehem, then present themselves to the infant, with the latter moment staged very like a traditional Nativity scene. Only then does the film cut to the opening titles and begin Judah's story. The result is that, from the outset, Judah's journey is folded into and linked to the larger Christ tale.

The entire narrative is dotted with references. Drusus, the old garrison commander Messala relieves, talks about how the Judeans are "drunk with religion." He mentions John the Baptist, speaking of him with the dismissiveness reserved for crazy cult leaders. Then he mentions "a carpenter's son," noting that he finds some of what this man says "quite profound."

When Judah returns to Judea, he encounters Balthasar (Finlay Currie), one of the wise men from the prologue. Later still, Judah, filled with despair and a thirst for vengeance, passes by The Mount of Beatitudes just before the Sermon on the Mount. Though Esther urges him to stop and listen, he leaves her behind, proceeding instead to a bitter meeting with Pontius Pilate.

Then there are the moments in which Christ makes direct appearances. These are handled artfully. Opera singer Claude Heater was cast in the role, but his face is never shown. Judah encounters him during the long march to the galleys, when Christ gives the parched man water. We mainly just see his hand, holding the cup to Judah, and Judah's reaction (as elsewhere in the film, Heston's nonverbal performance is superb). He appears once more in the epilogue, centered around his trial and execution. Again, he is shown from the back, with the focus on Judah's reactions when he recognizes him.

The way the religious tale is woven in and out of Judah's story lends the main narrative a broader context, while also making the religious story more immediately relatable. The religious references and scenes are an important part of the movie's fabric, but they are never allowed to get in the way of the main plot. Each thread ends up strengthening the other.

Judah stands at the periphery of The Sermon on the Mount.

AN EXTENDED EPILOGUE:

For more than three hours, Ben-Hur sustains its running time remarkably well. The Judah/Messala conflict is spellbinding, and the spell holds even after their battle is resolved. At the 190-minute mark, after the chariot race, Judah meets with Pontius Pilate. Judah's defeat of Messala has not satisfied his thirst for revenge, and follow-up scenes have left him filled with despair. Their confrontation is soft-spoken, with no raised voices, but it bristles with tension.

Critically, Pilate is no Straw Roman. He speaks with intelligence. He urges Judah not to fall prey to his resentment. He acknowledges the injustices done to him, stating: "Where there is greatness - great government or power, even great feeling or compassion - error also is great. We progress and mature by fault." He extends an offer of friendship, even in the face of bitterness, and he allows Judah to leave in peace. Even as he does so, however, he issues a stern warning: "I cross this floor in spoken friendship... but when I go up those stairs, I become the hand of Caesar, ready to crush those who challenge his authority."

The spell finally breaks not long after, however, with the final thirty minutes proving to be a little too much epilogue. The structure here is fine, with Judah saved from his own rage by one last intersection with the Christ story. But just about every scene is suddenly allowed to overrun, and the pace becomes sluggish for the first time the entire movie. I think the movie would have been better served had about ten minutes been shaved off - not really with any scenes removed, but with some general tightening.

It's not enough to cost the movie full marks. But it does represent a flaw in an otherwise wonderfully engrossing, beautifully made motion picture.

Judah is victorious, but still unsatisfied.

REMAKES AND RETELLINGS:

The 1959 movie is easily the best remembered version of Ben-Hur, but there have been several others, dating back to the silent era:

Ben-Hur (1907): The first film version of Lew Wallace's novel, a 15-minute silent film that dramatizes some of the book's highlights. More of a film history curio than something to be watched for entertainment.

Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925): This silent epic was a mammoth production, one beset by cost overruns and production difficulties. Had it failed at the box office, it might well have bankrupted MGM. Instead, its success cemented the studio as one of Hollywood's major players. Notably, a young William Wyler was one of the film's assistant directors.

Ben-Hur (2003): An animated version, with Charlton Heston returning to voice the title role. From the same producers as the Greatest Heroes and Legends of the Bible animated series, it's unsurprising that it's reputed to be more overtly religious than previous versions (and presumably a lot less violent).

Ben-Hur (2016): Directed by Timur Bekmambetov, the man behind such titles as Wanted and Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, this opened to negative reviews, with complaints about over-edited action scenes and distracting CGI. Audiences mostly steered clear, and the film ended up being regarded as one of 2016's biggest financial follies.


OVERALL:

My reservations about the epilogue aside, 1959's Ben-Hur is an excellent motion picture. The set pieces remain spectacular, and director William Wyler makes sure that even the grandest moments always return to the characters, which helps the story to sustain its extremely long running time.

A few trims in the final stretch wouldn't have gone amiss - but this is still one of Hollywood's true classics, and it lives up to its reputation.


Rating: 10/10.

Best Motion Picture - 1958: Gigi
Best Motion Picture - 1960: The Apartment

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1946: The Best Years of Our Lives

Three veterans return home after World War II.

Release Date: Nov. 21, 1946. Running Time: 172 minutes. Screenplay: Robert E. Sherwood. Based on the novella, Glory for Me by: MacKinley Kantor. Producer: Samuel Goldwyn. Director: William Wyler.


THE PLOT:

Three World War II veterans return to their home town of Boone City, only to find difficulty adjusting to civilian life. Each man served in a different branch: Fred Derry (Dana Andrews) in the Air Corps, Al Stephenson (Fredric March) as an infantry sergeant, and Homer Parrish (Harold Russell) in the Navy. Each also comes from a very different background, with Al a successful banker, Homer a kid from a middle-class family, and Fred previously a poor drug store worker.

Before he shipped out, Fred married nightclub dancer Marie (Virginia Mayo) after a whirlwind romance. Now that he's home, and with no better job prospects than drug store "soda jerk," he finds that fun-loving young Marie has little patience for his poverty. Meanwhile, Al returns to a loving wife (Myrna Loy), but he barely recognizes his now-grown children and finds his job as a loan officer far from agreeable. Finally, Homer, who lost both his hands, finds himself too aware of the stares he receives, while also worrying that his fiancée, Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell), may be staying with him out of pity instead of love.

The three find some solace in each other's company, hanging out the bar run by Homer's uncle (Hoagy Carmichael)... until Fred finds himself falling for Al's adult daughter, Peggy (Teresa Wright). The young woman feels guilty about her feelings for a married man, and she calls Marie to arrange a night out with both of them in hopes that getting to know her will put a stop to her crush. It has the opposite effect: After she witnesses how much the two dislike each other, she returns to her parents resolved that she is "going to break up that marriage!"

Al tries to slip back into his life with wife Milly (Myrna Loy).

CHARACTERS:

Milly: Milly (Myrna Loy) mostly tries to defuse tension with warm humor. Still, we see her concern for Al's excessive drinking. Before leaving to a bank function, Al fortifies himself a little too much, until Milly repeatedly takes the glass out of his hand - initially with a teasing attitude, but gradually with more insistence. At the dinner, Al is asked to make a speech... one he drinks his way through, while Milly tallies the number of drinks he has by marking the linen with her fork. By the fifth drink, she's all but stabbing the line into the sheet.

Al: When he returns to his upscale apartment, he hesitates for several seconds before going into the building. He seems almost in a daze as he is reunited with/meets his teen son and adult daughter, and he barely pauses in his rush to get out of the apartment and out to a bar. Al finds his work as a loan officer difficult; when a veteran applies for a loan without collateral, he can't bring himself to refuse, even though it draws the ire of his employer (Ray Collins). He complains to his wife that his real problem is that he's "too sane for (his) own good."

Fred: Outwardly, he's the most composed of the three veterans. Beneath the surface, he's a mess, trying to use an outgoing attitude to cover some pretty serious PTSD. When he finally falls asleep on his first night back, he suffers a nightmare, reliving the death of his best friend. Later, as he walks through an airplane graveyard, he can't help but hop into a bomber scheduled for demolition... where he immediately begins reliving his past again. Even his shallow young wife is observant enough to ask if something is wrong with his mind, a question he responds to by ignoring it.

Peggy: Much like her Oscar-winning performance in Mrs. Miniver, Teresa Wright radiates warmth and good humor. She and Myrna Loy are not 100% convincing as mother and daughter; with only a 13-year age difference between them, they look more like sisters. Still, they play well together, such as the moment early in the film when they drive the passed-out Al and Fred back to their apartment, giggling to each other about what a lovely couple the two soused soldiers make.

Marie: Fred's self-absorbed wife. Their marriage was a whirlwind affair, driven more by Fred's desperation to connect than anything. Now that he's survived the war, he quickly learns that they not only don't he and Marie love each other - They don't even like each other! While Marie is not a sympathetic character, it should be observed that this situation is as unfair to her as it is to him. Fred insists on her quitting her nightclub job, despite the only job he's able to secure being a low-paying one that hardly replaces her previous income. She values money and fun a little too much... but his response is to be almost constantly surly. These are two people who never should have been together, and never would have been together (at least, not for long) had it not been for a too-hurried wartime marriage.

Homer: Real-life World War II veteran Harold Russell, who lost both his hands to a training accident, portrays Homer. He has hooks where his hands used to be, and he's able to use them with great dexterity. He happily demonstrates this to both Fred and Al. Once he's home, however, he becomes clumsy under the weight of his family's stares, and his cheerfulness - already somewhat forced - fades into sullen withdrawal. In a particularly strong scene late in the film, he removes his hooks for bed while narrating to his fiancée exactly how helpless he is at this moment:

"My hands are down there... I can't put them on again without calling to

somebody for help. I can't smoke a cigarette or read a book. If that door should

blow shut, I can't open it and get out of this room. I'm as dependent as a

baby that doesn't know how to get anything except to cry for it."

Homer reveals the extent of his injuries to
his fiancée, Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell).

THOUGHTS:

William Wyler's The Best Years of Our Lives was the first major Hollywood movie to seriously deal with the stresses and struggles experienced by soldiers returning home after the war. Its three returning veterans are well-drawn characters in themselves, but they are also designed to represent others: each from a different socioeconomic status, each having served in a different branch, and each dealing with a different kind of trauma.

To the film's credit, it provides few easy answers to the men's issues. At the end of the film, Al is still drinking. Fred has managed to find work - but his new job is only a moderate step up from "soda jerk," and he admits that his financial situation is likely to remain difficult for a while. Even Homer, who receives the closest thing to a happy ending, is likely to continue feeling the stares of those he meets, something that he might adjust to but will never be comfortable with.

The first part of the film is splendid, as we meet the three characters and then follow them back home to their new/old lives. This introductory section flows very naturally. We open with Fred trying to get a flight back home. A businessman pushes right past him, and the friendly airport employee has to turn away from this new arrival to direct Fred to a military hangar.

It's there, while waiting for his flight, that Fred meets Homer. They chat while Homer's hooks are introduced.  Neither man comments on them, but we see Fred's stare as Homer uses the hooks to sign his name.  When the two go to their plane, they meet Al, completing the trio.  The three bond during the flight, interacting easily with each other, which strikes a contrast against their later, more strained interactions with others. As they drive through the town, Homer points out his uncle's bar - firmly establishing the place where they will later reunite. Finally, each of them reaches his destination, each hesitating to different degrees before going to a place that no longer really feels like home.

Each veteran struggles with psychological issues. Unsurprisingly, each man's issues boil over at inconvenient moments: Fred punching out a customer who denigrates the soldiers as "suckers," Al getting drunk at a business event when he needs to make a speech, and Homer erupting in rage when he sees local children staring at him through a window. Somewhat refreshingly, these issues don't lead to any kind of "support group" PSA: They try to deal with their problems by themselves, as quietly as they can manage, though even at the end it's clear that they are far from entirely all right.

Fred (Dana Andrews) relives his past amidst a
graveyard of airplanes, all scheduled to be junked.

Director William Wyler was particularly skilled at getting the best from actors, a strength that is very much in evidence here. It's no trick to get terrific performances from Myrna Loy, Fredric March, or Teresa Wright. However, this film showcases by far the best performance I've seen from Dana Andrews, and Wyler coaxes some fine work from Harold Russell, who was not even a professional actor! Wyler also balances the ensemble effectively. Each character gets a moment to hold the spotlight, and no one gets lost in the shuffle even when pushed to the background.

All of that said, the second half just isn't as good as the first half. The Fred/Peggy romance takes centerstage for much of the latter part of the movie, at which point things start to feel a bit sudsy. This isn't to say the film particularly stumbles - it remains engaging throughout - but the focus shifts, and not for the better, while one major strand basically resolves itself (likely to avoid a Hays Office showdown).

Thankfully, the focus is regained with the final Act.  Fred leaves town to try to find a decent job only to wander into an airplane graveyard - row upon row of aircraft, created for the war, and now scheduled to be junked because they are no longer useful - much the way Fred, a decorated captain in the army, finds that his skillset is no longer useful in peacetime.  Meanwhile, Homer gets his outstanding speech about his own helplessness once his hooks are removed. Even the "happy ending" injects a note of tension, with moments involving Al's drinking and a sense of lingering tension between Al and Fred preventing the movie from too easy or saccharine even as it closes out.


OVERALL:

The Best Years of Our Lives was a highly personal project for director William Wyler, who had worked on war documentaries during the conflict and had become highly involved with veterans and their issues. Wyler's best traits as a director are on full display, from his skill with actors to his ability to juggle large casts, and the movie's portrayal of veterans' issues remains very relevant.

It's not a perfect movie, losing a bit of focus in the middle and occasionally dipping into soap opera. It is, however, a very good film - and, thanks to a fine cast and a generous supply of humor, it is also a surprisingly entertaining one.


Overall Rating: 8/10.

Best Motion Picture - 1945: The Lost Weekend
Best Motion Picture - 1947: Gentleman's Agreement

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1942: Mrs. Miniver.

Kay Miniver (Greer Garson) has a rose named after her.

Release Date: June 4, 1942. Running Time: 133 minutes. Screenplay: Arthur Wimperis, George Froeschel, James Hilton, Claudine West. Based on the book by: Jan Struther. Producer: Sidney Franklin. Director: William Wyler.


THE PLOT:

Kay Miniver (Greer Garson) and her husband Clem (Walter Pidgeon) are ordinary members of the English upper middle class. They have a family, they go to church, and they live perhaps at the outer edge of their means. They have two young children, as well as an older son, Vin (Richard Ney), who is studying at Oxford. Life is simple, predictable, and good.

Then Germany invades Poland and, shortly after, the United Kingdom is officially at war with Germany and its allies. Initially, the war seems distant. Sure, there are air raid drills. But, as Lady Beldon (Dame May Whitty) declares, there is no real chance the Germans would dare to bomb them. Gradually, however, war draws closer. Vin leaves Oxford to join the Royal Air Force. Clem and his boat are called on to aid in the evacuation at Dunkirk. A German pilot is shot down over their village, leaving locals scrambling to search for him.

Then the bombs begin falling, signaling that the once-distant conflict is here, leaving the family to endure with as much dignity as they can manage...

The Miniver family, at church.

CHARACTERS:

Kay Miniver: It's interesting to contrast Kay Miniver (Greer Garson) with Cavalcade's Jane Marryot. Both are ordinary English women seen against major world events, and both are presented as icons of their respective eras. But while Jane only worked as a character in Cavalcade's first third, deteriorating into a dreary symbol thereafter, Kay actually engages. We see her fearing for her son when he joins the RAF, then for her husband when he joins the Dunkirk evacuation. She comes face to face with a German pilot, moving from terror at his nationality and weapon to sympathy for his youth and arm injury - and then to anger, when he parrots Nazi propaganda at her. Cavalcade fails (in my opinion) because it loses focus and ignores Jane for large periods. Mrs. Miniver works because it stays with the title character, showing the major events from her perspective throughout.

Clem Miniver: Mrs. Miniver is the second consecutive Best Picture winner starring Walter Pidgeon. Though he was cast in some fine films, I've often found Pidgeon to be a bit wooden. This was very much the case in How Green Was My Valley, where he often seemed to be posing rigidly in contrast to the more natural screen actors surrounding him. He's much more relaxed here, and he and Garson have a natural screen rapport which makes them feel like an authentic couple.

Carol Beldon: Teresa Wright won the Supporting Actress Oscar as Lady Beldon's granddaughter, who quickly becomes the object of affection for the Minivers' eldest son, Vin. She is introduced when he comes down from Oxford, riding pompously high on academic readings about the English class system. She brightly and politely punctures his pomposity, asking what he's been doing about his deeply held beliefs. "I know how comfortable it is to curl up with a book full of big words and think you're going to solve all the problems of the universe, but you're not - a bit of action is required now and then." Carol remains the more mature of the two throughout. She is realistic about how abruptly the war may end their relationship, frankly talking with Mrs. Miniver about how determined she is to enjoy her time with Vin. "If I must lose him, there'll be time enough for tears."

Vin: What's most revealing about Vin is how often he's referred to as a "boy." When he proposes to Carol, Kay sells her son to Lady Beldon by calling him a "nice boy." Carol hesitates about his exuberance, calling him a "crazy boy," and fearing that he won't stay crazy about her forever. When he enlists and is made Pilot Officer, he is enthused about how quickly it happened... even as his parents exchange glances that show their recognition that the haste to get pilots in the air is not a good thing. He grows in maturity throughout, but it's only in a thoughtful gesture in the movie's last scene that he shows himself as more than the "infant" Lady Beldon accused him of being.

Lady Beldon: Dame May Whitty, as the local aristocrat, is initially presented as a one-dimensional figure, a personification of the exact class snobbery that "Oxford Vin" rails against. She hosts an annual flower show, and it's a scandal that this year a commoner has dared to enter his rose when she has always entered unopposed. She resists Vin and Carol when they insist she respond appropriately to an Air Raid siren, and sniffs that the Air Raid Warden is a "little person" using the war "to become important." When she tries to protest Vin and Carol's engagement, however, she doesn't argue out of class snobbery, but rather out of memories of losing her own husband to the First World War so soon after their own marriage. She also admits that Carol is too strong-willed (read: too much like her) for her opinion to matter anyway.

A sermon in a war-scarred church.

UNABASHED WAR PROPAGANDA:

"Propaganda worth 100 battleships!"
-British Prime Minister Winston Churchill

"(Mrs. Miniver)'s refined powerful propagandistic tendency has up to now only been dreamed of. There is not a single angry word spoken against Germany; nevertheless the anti-German tendency is perfectly accomplished."
-Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels

It is impossible to replicate the experience of watching Mrs. Miniver in 1942. This was a big Hollywood picture that portrayed the early days of the Second World War, from the German invasion of Poland to the start of the Blitz, at a time when these events were recent and vivid in the minds of British moviegoers, who so warmly embraced this American-made film about English perseverance that it made almost as much money in the UK as it did in the US.

That it was a propaganda film isn't in question. Director William Wyler was proud to acknowledge it as such. The film ends with a sermon, in a church scarred by bombing, that is addressed more to the audience than to the characters:

"We have buried our dead, but we shall not forget them. Instead, they will inspire us with an unbreakable determination to free ourselves and those who come after us from the tyranny and terror that threaten to strike us down. This is the people's war! It is our war!"

This speech was reprinted in publications of the time, and copies of it were translated into multiple languages and dropped over German-occupied territories in Europe. In the film, it is followed by a closing image, seen through one of the many gaps in the church's roof: British planes, flying in perfect formation... and then, after the credits, with a direct call to the audience to buy war bonds with every paycheck.

Still, like many other movies of the era that were unabashed propaganda, Mrs. Miniver also stands up as a genuinely good movie, one that remains enjoyable even outside that historical context.

The Minivers' eldest son, Vin (Richard Ney),
falls for Carol Beldon (Teresa Wright).

THOUGHTS:

Though the story is presented episodically, it has been carefully structured. The opening Act establishes the characters in pre-war normalcy, as Kay and Clem guiltily indulge in their own extravagant purchases. All the principals are introduced efficiently: Kay and the vicar share a train car with Lady Beldon; Clem and the young children are introduced on her return home; Vin and Carol are introduced in the very next scenes. The thread of the flower show is also introduced in these opening minutes, with upstart competitor Mr. Ballard (Henry Travers) daring to enter his rose - "The Mrs. Miniver," after Kay grants her permission - against Lady Beldon, in a thread that will continue until the very end of the picture.

The arrival of the war is announced at a church service, a scene in which all the major characters are visible. From here, focus is split between Air Raid preparations and the romance between Vin and Carol, but a sense of overall normalcy remains.

The film's centerpiece changes that. At about the 60-minute mark, Clem is called away for what is revealed to be participation in the Dunkirk evacuation. With both him and Vin gone, Kay is left alone. After a brief exchange that keeps the "rose" subplot alive, she encounters the downed German pilot. She is initially terrified, but his youth and obvious fear make her sympathetic to a young man who obviously reminds her of Vin. He responds to her kindness by savagely boasting of the European cities destroyed by the German war machine, declaring, "We will do the same thing here!" She slaps him... but even this parroting of Nazi propaganda recalls Vin's own parroting of his academic readings at the start of the film, something which I doubt is accidental, and the young German pilot ultimately seems as much a victim of war as anyone else.

After that scene, the tone becomes increasingly grim. There's an extended scene with the family in their shelter, riding out a bombing run while doing all they can to maintain a semblance of normality: Kay reading to the children, Clem smoking a pipe, the two almost aggressive in their discussions of mundane plans for the following day. This leads into the final Act, in which the family is changed forever... and which even audiences in 1942 were all too aware marked just the beginning of what they still had to face.

The movie is effective in its storytelling, making the mundane (young romance; the winning rose at the flower show) as important as the wartime story.  In pacing and style, however, Mrs. Miniver often feels like a backward step. In the late 1930s and early '40's, more and more filmmakers were starting their scenes as late as possible, with characters already in conversation or action, and cutting out of scenes at dramatic high points.  This film follows the style more favored in the early '30s, with scenes beginning with characters' entrances and continuing until they exit, which makes it feel at times both slower and stagier than its contemporaries. It by no means destroys the film... but I think some tighter editing might have helped the pace, and I suspect modern viewers will do a bit of seat-shifting and watch-checking early in the film.

Lady Beldon (Dame May Whitty) wrestles with the
announcement of the winning rose at her annual show.

REMAKES AND RETELLINGS:

Mrs. Miniver was remade at least three times: in 1943, as a radio serial; in 1960, as a television movie starring Maureen O'Hara; and in 2015, as a musical stage adaptation. The movie also received a sequel, 1950's The Miniver Story. Both Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon returned, but director William Wyler did not. Also not returning: Vin Miniver, given that Garson had both married and divorced actor Richard Ney in the intervening years. The film, a soaper which gives Mrs. Miniver an illness to bravely suffer through, fared poorly with both critics and audiences, and is largely regarded as an ill-advised footnote.


OVERALL:

As wartime propaganda, Mrs. Miniver's portrayal of the courage of ordinary people trying to maintain a sense of normalcy during wartime proved more effective than any number of pictures portraying battlefield heroics. Even outside that context, the characters remain relatable, as does the portrayal of a war that intrudes gradually, almost by inches, into daily life. It holds up as an enjoyable motion picture, well worth seeing for viewers willing to have patience with its early pacing issues.


Overall Rating: 8/10.

Outstanding Motion Picture - 1941: How Green Was My Valley
Outstanding Motion Picture - 1943: Casablanca

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