Welcome to the first of what I plan to be an ongoing series of posts about marvelous movies. Marvelous is a play on the word ‘Marvel,’ which has taken on its own meaning at movie theaters these days. And I will commit classic film reviewer heresy by saying that some Marvel movies can be marvelous. There isn’t a danger of audiences forgetting those films anytime soon, though. My worry is for the great movies that helped Hollywood get to where it is today. With all of the new content screaming out for our viewing attention these days, it’s too easy to ignore the classic films of the past. This marvelous movies column is my small attempt at helping to make sure these great films are remembered.
A quick word about numbering: I am not using this column to rank films in any sort of order. The number in the title is simply the order in which I wrote about the movie.
Since I am starting this column on Memorial Day weekend, I wanted to write about something appropriate for the occasion. Many incredible movies war movies cover a wide range of subjects and emotions, but Memorial Day’s focus is to remember those who fought and died for our country. It may seem strange then to pick a film that’s about soldiers returning home from World War II. However, the vast majority of those who won that war, the people Tom Brokaw dubbed ‘The Greatest Generation,’ have now passed away. I think it’s appropriate to remember them too. One of the things I love most about The Best Years of Our Lives is that it reminds us the war for these soldiers didn’t end when the fighting stopped.
Samuel Goldwyn was one of the titans of the film industry in the golden age of Hollywood, responsible for producing films as diverse as Wuthering Heights and The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. He read an article in Time magazine in 1944 about the difficulties veterans had returning back to civilian life that inspired him to produce a picture on the subject. The result would be his only Best Picture winner. One of his frequent directors, William Wyler, was the perfect choice to helm the film.
Wyler received an astounding twelve Best Director nominations during his career. He would win three, including one for his work on The Best Years of Our Lives. Like many great filmmakers of the day, he interrupted his Hollywood career to contribute to the war effort. Joining the army as a major, Wyler directed three documentaries during his time in the service. The most famous was about the Memphis Belle, the first bomber to fly twenty-five successful missions over Germany. Wyler flew on several of these. One of the officers he used as a cinematographer, First Lieutenant Harold J. Tannenbaum, was tragically shot down and killed during the filming. With his wartime experience, Wyler could sympathize with what it was like to come home from the fight. In fact, when one of the film’s characters return surprises his family, Wyler staged the reunion much as it happened with his wife.
The Best Years of Our Lives chronicles the stories of three veterans coming back to fictional Boone City, which could have just as easily been called Anytown, USA. One of the soldiers’ parts originally centered around a struggle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That changed when Wyler saw a short documentary about a sergeant named Harold Russell, who lost both his hands during the war. Wyler convinced Russell to appear in the movie and had writer Robert E. Sherwood change the script to feature a veteran with two hooks in place of his hands. It was a bold idea since the disabled veteran had never acted before. Russell made the gamble pay off, giving a powerful performance as a man struggling with the anger and helplessness of his situation. Scenes where his father and fiancée help him get ready for bed are as intimate as any movie made in the 1940s could get away with on the subject.
Russell would become the only person to win two Oscars for the same performance. The Academy figured a non-professional actor would never win Best Supporting Actor, so they gave him an honorary award for ‘bringing hope and courage to his fellow veterans.’ He went on to win the Supporting Actor trophy as well anyway.
Frederic March won Best Actor for playing Al Stephenson, a former platoon sergeant who has trouble adapting back to his middle-class lifestyle. The always wonderful Myrna Loy plays his wife, and the interaction between the two of them is beautifully portrayed as they tentatively rekindle their marriage. Al Stephenson also acts as the social consciousness of the film, using his job as a bank manager to help returning G.I.s with small business loans. His ideas about what the bank owes these men contrast with those of his bosses. In many ways, the conflicts played out in this part of the film are still going on in our country today.
Dana Andrews was a big star in the 1940s, though not well remembered today. He plays the Fred Derry, an officer and bombardier during the war who now has simple dreams of getting a good job and finding a nice house in the suburbs. Unfortunately, Derry finds his pre-war experience working at a soda fountain and his wartime skills at precision bombing don’t translate well to the job market. Worse, his wife, who he met and married while in basic training, is more attracted to the glamorous soldier and not the struggling veteran.
Fred Derry’s story arc makes up the spine of the film. The experience of war changed his character in fundamental ways. His dreams may be simple, but they are what’s important to live a fulfilling life. Returning to his menial job is humiliating. He cannot stand his party girl wife, and the feeling is more than mutual. His hope for the future comes in the form of Al Stephenson’s daughter, played by the magnificent Teresa Wright. Wright is another actress who is mostly forgotten, but her work here is extraordinary. Her character could have been nothing but a caricature of the ideal American 1940s future housewife. There is even an unintentionally hilarious line for modern viewers when she mentions taking a ‘domestic science’ course. Thankfully, Wright brings a mature depth to the part that underscores why she and the struggling veteran can build a future.
Looking to the future is the ultimate message of the film. It can be a next to impossible task for people who have seen the horrors of war to do this, but for returning veterans, it is battle that must be won. There is a striking sequence late in the film when Andrews is wandering around an airplane junkyard among the bombers and fighters that helped win the war. These rows and rows of planes are being salvaged for metal to build new housing. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how America also needed to move on. With the hindsight of history, it’s easy to overlook how uncertain things were in 1946. Characters in the film talk of a possible pending economic depression. The likelihood of the next war being the last war due to nuclear weapons is touched on more than once. The Best Years of Our Lives is a rejection of those fears. The film is a reminder for Americans not to waste the sacrifices of those who defeated tyranny and ensured freedom. Building a better tomorrow would take even more work, but only by making that effort could Americans have a future that really would be the best years of their lives.
As is sadly the case with many older films, it’s hard to find The Best Years of Our Lives on streaming services. I could write a whole column about how stupid it is for the rights holders of these classic movies to prevent them from having as broad an audience as possible. RIght now you can rent the film for $2.99 on iTunes or Vudu. It is also airing on TCM this Thursday, May 30 at 8:00 PM. Set your DVR!
