Last year, in my review for The Vikings, I talked about how fascinating it was that some movies disappear from history. It's just strange that films that were hits in their day and featured major Hollywood stars just seem to vanish once the next generation comes along. What cultural forces allow some movies to weather this test of time and stay in our collective memories forever, while others just fade away? I suppose, at the end of the day, I can understood why The Vikings has been sort of forgotten. It's a good movie, but not a brilliant one. And while it was a hit, it was not a phenomenon. I lamented the fact that films like this are being forgotten, but I understand it.
But what if that forgotten film truly is a classic? What if it really is one of the best movies ever made?
What the hell happened to The Best Years of Our Lives? Let me set the credentials first, because this movie was BIG. The Best Years of Our Lives won 7 Oscars, including Best Picture. It was also the first film to win Best Picture at the Oscars, Golden Globes and the BAFTAs. It was a massive hit, and was the most watched film since Gone with the Wind. The film is listed as the 37th best American film on the AFI List. When the Library of Congress started selecting the most culturally significant films for preservation in the National Registry, The Best Years of Our Lives was one of among the first selected. This film actually was a phenomenon. But have you seen it?
Have you even heard of it?
Probably not. Because it seems like most of us haven't.
I listen to a few other podcasts about the Oscars and classic films, and when this film came up in their list, there was a sense of confusion. "What is that movie?" "I have never heard of this!" "Oh, wait, I think I know it. Is that the movie that beat It's a Wonderful Life for Best Picture?" How did this happen? Why don't more people know this movie?
Now, obviously, I'm not saying no one has see the film. If it had completely vanished, then it wouldn't be on the AFI list, or in all those "1000 Movies You Need to See Before You Die" books. But that doesn't change the fact that to the general public, this movie kind of doesn't exist.
And wow, are they missing something. Because The Best Years of Our Lives is just glorious. I was staggered how amazing it was, heartfelt without being manipulative or sappy, complex without being indecisive, and beautifully acted and directed without showing off.
The Best Years of Our Lives tells the story of three soldiers returning from World War 2, and the struggles they face trying to re-adjust to civilian life. Al Stephenson (Fredric March, Inherit the Wind) tries to re-connect with his family, including the children whose formative years he missed while he was off fighting in the Pacific. Fred Derry (Dana Andrews, Laura) was an officer in a bomber squadron during the war, but finds himself struggling to find a job in a society that seems to no longer have a use for him. And Homer Parrish (Harold Russell), who lost both his hands in the war, is trying to find a way to live his life without feeling like everyone pities him, especially his fiancé, Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell, Ben Hur). Their experiences were a microcosm of what a lot of veterans went through when they returned from the war, feeling like their peaceful home town was now a foreign world.
I think the most impressive thing about the film is that it truly feels authentic. There are a number of reasons for this. The film was based on a novella Glory for Me, which was written by a war correspondent who had interviewed scores of veterans. This was adapted into a screenplay by Robert E. Sherwood, a four-time Pulitzer Prize winning playwright who served as the director of the Office of War Information during the war. The director William Wyler (Ben Hur) spent four years as part of the Signal Corps and had flown in combat missions over Europe while filming Memphis Belle, a wartime documentary for the U.S. Army. Once production started, Wyler was committed to hiring as many veterans to work in the crew as possible, from audio technicians to grips. And then you have the character of Homer, played by Harold Russell, who had joined the army following Pearl Harbor and lost his hands in a demolition accident in 1944. Russell is not an actor, and you can tell. He is a bit rough around the edges. But he feels real. Supposedly, producer Samuel Goldwyn tried to sign Russell up for acting lessons and Wyler intervened. He didn't want the authenticity spoiled by technique and method. Instead, he encouraged Russell to play what he knew. I think it works beautifully. What potentially could have, and maybe should have, come across as amateurish only adds to the insecurity that Homer feels at home, a place he isn't sure he belongs in, and engaged to a woman he feels he no longer deserves. The sincerity and credibility he brings to the role is irreplaceable. It's no wonder he won not one, but two Oscars for the performance - one for Best Supporting Actor and a special award for "bringing inspiration and hope to war veterans."
I'm rambling, but the point is that the movie tries really hard to be authentic, and it pays off. But I also admire it because of its complexity. This isn't a straight forward film. These characters are human, not movie cliches, and they have flaws. Al Stephenson is a nice man who loves his family and truly cares about helping other veterans re-adjust, but he is also teetering dangerously close to alcoholism. Does the movie overstate the point? No. But it's there. And we feel every nervous side-eye his wife gives him when he pours himself a drink. That's just one example. There are no "good guys" or "bad guys" in this movie. Everyone is three dimensional, with good and bad qualities. They're just regular people trying to discover their new normals. I have to restrain myself because I'm going to start getting into spoiler territory, and there are a number of surprises in the movie, so maybe it's best I just move on!
Basically, everyone is firing on all cylinders in this movie. The acting is all great. In addition to the actors I already mentioned, you also have Myrna Loy, Virginia Mayo, and Teresa Wright. I also need to give some props to Gregg Toland, the director of photography who also shot Citizen Kane. Toland wasn't even nominated for his remarkable work, which I think is criminal. His deep focus work throughout the movie is superb, and he and Wyler have conceived a handful of scenes featuring two different story threads playing out simultaneously - one in the foreground and one in the background, commenting on but not distracting from each other. That's not something you see in many movies today, much less 1946.
So why has Best Years of Our Lives seemingly disappeared from the public consciousness? Could it be the title of the film? It makes it sound like a sappy soap opera. Maybe. Admittedly, the title doesn't really tell me much about the movie. I think the actors also have something to do with it. March, Loy, Andrews, Mayo and Wright were all big stars in the 1940s, but for whatever reason they haven't become legendary, multi-generational beloved super stars like Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn or Jimmy Stewart. And maybe there was a sense that this movie belonged to a very specific time, that it only made sense right after the horror that was World War 2 and that the further we got from that singular moment in history, the less relevant the film became.
I call bullshit on all that last one, though. The issues explored in the film don't rest solely in the 1940s, and many of the themes are just as relevant today as they were then - PTSD, depression and mental health, the complexities of marriage, issues of class, big banking, corporations and chains taking over small town family businesses, even fake news - these are topics that are still argued about today. Plus, the fact that as long as there are wars, there will always be veterans, and there will always be difficulties re-adjusting to peacetime after conflict.
Sadly, I think the main reason The Best Years of Our Lives remains more obscure was just because of the roll of the movie dice. There were copyright issues with It's a Wonderful Life, which meant that television stations could broadcast it for free. That film, which had underperformed when it came out, was found by a whole new generation of families who started watching it every year at Christmas. Those kids grew up, and then introduced to the film to their kids, and so on, and therefore, the movie passed into legend. Would the same thing have happened if the copyright had expired for The Best Years of Our Lives? Maybe. I'm always searching for reasons. It's just frustrating when I can't really find a compelling one. But I guess I have to accept that sometimes that's just not the fate of a film.
But that can change. Movies can be re-discovered. I hope that happens to The Best Years of Our Lives. This film deserves to be remembered.
MVP:
I'm so tempted to say Gregg Toland for his excellent cinematography. This is some of the best deep focus work I've ever seen because it's not being used as a gimmick or just a technique to keep more of the image in focus. He's using the depth of the frame to tell a visual story within the film's plot, and it's pretty amazing. But some of that influence may have also come from Wyler, who ultimately I have to give the MVP to. Wyler was a great filmmaker, who consistently directed his actors to Oscar wins or nominations. His sense of pacing is what makes a three hour movie feel much shorter than its runtime. And most of all, Wyler gets the MVP due to his adamant insistence, I would say obsession, to make this movie feel authentic because he felt he owed it to the veterans who fought for this country and put everything on the line for our freedom. In large part, that's why the film still stands up today.
BEST LINE:
After seeing his children again for the first time in four years.
Milly: What do you think of the children?
Al: Children? I don't recognize 'em. They've grown so old.
Milly: I tried to stop them, to keep them just the way they were when you left, but they got away from me.
TRIVIA:
When getting ready for bed, Homer comments that once his artificial hands are removed, he's as helpless as a baby. But this was definitely not true in real life. Harold Russell was very capable of putting the hooks back on without anyone helping. That was just something they added to the movie to make the character more sympathetic.
But I also need to add one other bit of trivia, because it's too funny not to! It's not about the film, but about Teresa Wright, who plays Al's daughter Peggy. First of all, has anyone made as much of a Hollywood entrance as she did? She explodes onto the scene with Little Foxes, which was nominated for Best Picture and netted her an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress. She follows that up with Mrs. Miniver, which won Best Picture and also for which she won Best Supporting Actress. Her third film was yet another Best Picture nominee, Pride of the Yankees, for which she was nominated for Best Actress. She follows that up with Alfred Hitchcock's classic Shadow of a Doubt, which was that director's personal favorite film and a big hit. That is already one helluva stretch. Her first four films are all major classics. She admittedly had a little drip with her next movie, Casanova Brown, but then her sixth film was The Best Years of Our Lives. So that is still a remarkable run. She was also a strong woman and a serious actress, and didn't have much use for the ridiculousness of the Hollywood press machine. When she signed her first contract, she was bold enough to insist on the following additions to the agreement:
"Teresa Wright shall not be required to pose for photographs in a bathing suit unless she is in the water. Neither may she be photographed running on the beach with her hair flying in the wind. Nor may she pose in any of the following situations: in shorts; playing with a cocker spaniel; digging in a garden; whipping up a meal; attired in firecrackers and holding skyrockets for the Fourth of July; looking insinuatingly at a turkey for Thanksgiving; wearing a bunny cap with long ears for Easter; twinkling on prop snow in a skiing outfit while a fan blows her scarf; or assuming an athletic stance while pretending to hit something with a bow and arrow."
That was in the contract! And insisted upon by someone who had never made a movie before. I would think most Hollywood moguls, especially back then, would have refused. But Goldwyn was impressed by her seriousness and her talent, and agreed.
I just think that is pretty awesome and badass that she insisted on all of that, and had to include it with my trivia for the film!
