Harrison's Reports (1946)

190 HARRISON'S REPORTS "The Best Years of Our Lives" with Fredric March, Dana Andrews, Myrna Loy and Teresa Wright (Goldwyn-RKO, no release date set; time, 172 mm.) Samuel Goldwyn has come forth with an extremely fine drama in "The Best Years of Our Lives," which, in terms that will be understood by all classes of moviegoers, realistically and honestly depicts the problems faced by veterans in their reconversion to a peacetime way of life. William Wyler's sensitive direction, Robert E. Sherwood's superlative screen play, and great performances by the entire cast combine to make this picture go down in the industry's history as one of its finest achievements. The characters are so real, and the parts are enacted so understandingly, that one thinks he is looking at real-life occurrences. One feels the joys and the sorrows of the characters as if they were one's own joys and sorrows. Although the picture's running time is just eight minutes under three hours, one takes little notice of this length because what it has to offer is warm, sincere, impressive and satisfying. Its emotional appeal will move one so deeply that it will be difficult to suppress tears. Moreover, its romantic interest is intelligent and appealing, and its comedy is delightful. The story's three central characters are Fredric March, as a middle-aged infantry sergeant and bank executive in private life; Dana Andrews, as an Air Force captain and former "soda-jerk"; and Harold Russell, as a youthful seaman, who had lost both his hands in action, and who wore articulated hooks in their place. Russell, a newcomer, wears these hooks in real life, and his first try at acting is remarkably good. The story opens with the three veterans, all living in the same mid-Western town, meeting for the first time and becoming fast friends as they hitch an airplane ride back home. Their homecomings are as different as their houses. At a smart apartment house, March is greeted warmly by his wife (Myrna Loy) and two grown children (Teresa Wright and Michael Hall), but not having seen them for three years he feels awkward and self-conscious. At an old-fashioned frame house, Russell is greeted by his family and by his sweetheart (Cathy O'Donnell), whose shocked silence and embarrassing pity make him uneasy. Andrews comes home to a dreary, rundown shack on the wrong side of the tracks, where he learns from his gin-soaked father that Virginia Mayo, the girl he had married twenty days before he had gone overseas, had moved away and had taken empolyment in a night club. The story then centers around March's gradual resumption of his domestic ties, and of his work at the bank, where he is made vice-president in charge of small loans to veterans; Russell's seeking escape from his overly-considerate family, and his efforts to discourage the deep love his sweetheart felt for him, despite his disability, until she convinces him that their love was powerful enough to overcome his misfortune; and Andrews discouragement over financial difficulties that compelled him to resume his work as a "soda-jerk," his eventual discovery that his flashy wife was unfaithful, and his falling in love with March's daughter, a romance that is realized only after Andrews breaks with his wife. Lack of space does not permit the recounting of the many details that make this picture the poignant drama that it is. The uncontrollable wail of Russell's mother when she first sees his mechanical hands; his demonstrating to his sweetheart the fact that he was helpless without his harness; and his skill as he uses his hook-like prosthetic devices to place the wedding ring on her finger are but a few of the memorable dramatic highlights. The picture's lighter moments are concerned chiefly with March's awkwardness as he adjusts himself to living with his family. The sequences in which he gets drunk and suffers a hangover, after celebrating his homecoming, are extremely funny. Among others, the cast includes Hoagy Carmichael, Gladys George, Roman Bohnen and Ray Collins — all are excellent. ''Lady in the Lake" with Robert Montgomery and Audrey Totter (MGM, no release date set; time, 103 min.) Very Good! What might have been a fairly interesting murder-mystery picture has been turned into a superior melodrama by reason of the novel and highly successful technique used to present the story. This technique gives the camera itself the leading role; that is, the camera becomes the eyes of the hero and one sees only what the hero himself can see as he goes about the business of investigating the mystery. The result is that the hero, a private detective, played by Robert Montgomery, is never seen during the action except at such times as his image is reflected in a mirror. Yet one hears his voice and sees his hands reach out for objects. The other characters, while conversing with him, look directly into the camera, and even when he is beaten by the villain the blows are aimed at the camera. The total effect on the spectator is to make him feel that he himself is the detective, thus heightening the suspense and intensifying the interest. Montgomery, who also directed the picture, deserves unstinting praise for his magnificent handling of this imaginative technique, which will undoubtedly create considerable word-of-mouth advertising, thus insuring the picture's box-office success. How Montgomery carries on a romance by this new method, with the heroine puckering up her lips and aiming her kisses directly at the camera, is really something to see. The picture opens up with Montgomery at his desk, telling the audience about his adventures in a recent murder case. The action then dissolves into a flashback with the camera becoming Montgomery's eyes, seeing only what he can see. There are so many twists to the plot, which is based on a Raymond Chandler novel, that it defies one's attempt to synopsize. Briefly, however, it concerns his being retained by Audrey Totter, a pulp magazine editor, to locate the missing wife of her publisher, Leon Ames, whom she hoped to marry herself. Montgomery's investigation leads him to believe that the woman had been murdered, a theory he eventually proves, but before he solves the case he goes through a series of hair-raising adventures, in which he becomes involved in a second murder and is framed by a crooked detective. In the interim he finds romance with Audrey, a "gold-digger," who in time sees the error of her ways. It is a well-knit screen play, written by Steve Fisher, and the plot developments are worked out logically. Miss Totter, incidentally, turns in a very good performance, as does Lloyd Nolan, as the wayward detective. George Haight is the producer. The cast includes Tom Tully, Dick Simmons, Jayne Meadows and others. Although suggestive in spots, nothing objectionable is shown. "Abie's Irish Rose" with Joanne Dru and Richard Norris (United Artists, December 27; time, 96 min.) Whatever entertainment values there are in this remake of "Abie's Irish Rose," which was first produced by Paramount in 1928, are offset by questionable comedy, the sort that tends to degrade and slander both the Jewish and Irish races. Although this type of comedy, the details of which are outlined in the front page editorial of this issue, may have passed as entertainment several generations ago, its effect today is that of leaving one with a bad taste in his mouth. Consequently, the picture can hardly be classified as popular entertainment. Except for some minor changes to bring it up to date, the story remains substantially the same. The plot, which is based on the play by Anne Nichols, who wrote also the screen play, deals with the marriage of a Jewish boy to an Irish girl, much to the consternation of both their fathers. In the course of events the youngsters are married by a rabbi and by a Catholic priest, but the fathers, objecting on racial grounds, remain unreconciled; both disown their children. The birth of twins, and the efforts of the rabbi and the priest, eventually make for a happy ending in which the battling fathers become reconciled with themselves and their children, giving their blessings to the mixed marriage. There is no question that, towards the finish, the film has several appealing moments, but they are not enough to overcome the distastefulness of the preceding action, in which the fathers constantly fly at each other's throats, making offensive remarks about one another's race. Michael Chekhov, as the Jewish father, is more repelling than amusing, as is George E. Stone, whose characterization of a Jewish lawyer and friend of the family is painfully ludicrous. J. M. Kerrigan plays the Irish father in the comic tradition of "shanty" Irish, and his pugnaciousness and constant derogatory remarks about things Jewish merely serves to imply that nothing gentle, refined, or cultured exists in the Irish character. The only principal roles in which the players show some semblance of dignity are that of "Abie" and "Rosie," played by Richard Norris and Joanna Dru, and the rabbi and the priest, played by Emory Parnell and Art Baker, respectively. Edward A. Sutherland produced and directed for Bing Crosby Producers, Inc. The cast includes Vera Gordon, Eric Blore and others.