The 49th Parallel is an interesting pre-war movie supposedly written to urge the U.S. into WWII. It's absorbing and wonderful in many ways although also a bit odd. It has a fair dose of Canadian cheerleading, complete with Mounties and gorgeous lakeside scenery, as well as the curiosity of dialogue written before we became quite so cautious about expressing our opnions about "good guys" and "bad guys". The script is so strong that Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger won the 1941 writing Oscar. Of course, it doesn't hurt that there's a Ralph Vaughn Williams score and a phenomenal cast (Anton Walbrook, Raymond Massey, Lawrence Olivier, Leslie Howard, Glynnis Johns, among others) none of whom is the "star" because it's essentially a "road" picture as the German submarine survivors set off on a quest to get to then-neutral America. Some things are wrong (the type of planes changes from the beginning of one scene to the next, which is jarring, and the Germans walk across the border with Canada (a) with no apparent weakness brought on by hunger and thirst and (b) with no sense that they can just turn left and enter the U.S. without so much as a glance). (The
TCM comments are worth reading to get a sense of the breadth of reactions it inspires in different people and even in oneself during the two-hour film.) The final shot of the train heading to America, high atop the Niagara bridge, is lovely. A bit heavy on symbolism, but beautiful.
Whether Powell-Pressberger really meant to be urging the Americans to join the war, or were simply writing about people standing up for their beliefs, it's a darned good yarn. There are tons of good lines throughout this terrific script but my favorite today is when Raymond Massey, reacting to his opponent's Germanic diatribe, answers that:
We have the right to be fed up with anything we damn please, and to say so. . . and we can dish it out, too.
Labels: juxtapositions, movies
Another interesting day of similar (or not) birthday celebrants:
