The Best Years of Our Lives (1946): Eitan's Take

The Best Years of Our Lives blows the lid off of "The Greatest Generation" in two profound and contradictory ways: first, it shows us that the generation -- long known to be obsessed with its own stature and role in history -- was filled with mundane and shortsighted little folks just like you and me, lost in the world, dealing with typical challenges like finding jobs, falling in love with the right and wrong people, and approaching the future with both caution and excitement. And, secondly, it shows us that these people were not like my generation at all; tortured by the global inhumanity of war, they focused inwards, too caught up in their own selfish interests to engage with the world in a progressive or intellectual way. The film, following intertwining lives of three men -- one from the Air Force, one from the Navy, and one from the Army -- in the months after their return from the not-so-front-lines of WWII is an ambitious project, in that it tries to capture the entire essence of a certain place and time (the foreplay leading up to the reproductive madness of the Baby Boom), but it's crippled by how dated its ideas, characterizations, and central issues have become.

Of course, there are wars in every generation, and I understand the plethora of great Vietnam films more than I understand The Best Years of Our Lives because our country is still fighting demons dating back to that war (see: 2004 Election), and we still see its aftershocks in film, art, literature, politics, and war. I went into this film with a great load of hype surrounding it, and on an artistic level, I was truly not disappointed -- the performance of Harold Russell as amputee Homer Parrish is particularly great, with its dark subtlety and deep pathos, the cinematography and writing is uniformly excellent, and scenes like the assault in the ice cream shop and Al's drunken speech to his banking partners were laden with both curiosity and frustration about the new role of Americans in the global community -- but I felt oddly unmoved by the whole exercise, as though all of these events were just too far back for me to even grasp, let alone appreciate. It's great art, no doubt, and as an icon of its generation (it is to the 40's what The Graduate and Easy Rider are to the 60's, Coming Home and Nashville are the the 70's, American Beauty is to the 90's) it is a towering representative of all that the Academy must have wanted to reward in the crucial rebuilding years following WWII. Because I admire its rich characterization and powerful exploration of the psyches of new and unwilling veterans, I feel compelled to like it. Nevertheless, I have to admit that it just didn't click with me the way I expected it to. I will leave this film to a bygone generation and award it a respectable 7/10.

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946): Shira's Take

Another William Wyler WWII movie. Unlike Mrs. Miniver, though, Best Years followed the intertwining stories of three men who fought in the war (one by sea, one by land, and one by air) coming home to their very different lives. Homer Parrish (played by Howard Russell, who truly was a double-amputee and who Wyler recruited after seeing him in an army training film) has lost his hands, and with them, he assumes, any possibility at a normal life. Frederic March won an Oscar for best actor as Al Stephenson, and my only complaint about that fact is that he was such an underdeveloped character. Aside from telling the viewer he is a drunk and doesn't want his daughter to be a homewrecker, the film really doesn't allow us inside Al's head. The only really great Al-related scene was one in which he is being honored at work (a bank) for being a veteran soon after being criticized for having given a loan to a man with no collateral. He has (according to a tally taken by his wife, Milly, played by Myrna Loy) five drinks under his belt when he gives a speech, saying that a Major during the war told his platoon to take a hill, and Al said in response that the risk is too sufficient to take without the proper collateral. "So we didn't take the hill and we lost the war." Seeing the change in Milly from disappointment at his public drunkenness to pride at his strong morals is really great.

Now we acknowledge the most prevalent, and, in many ways, most annoying plot within the movie. Teresa Wright (also in Mrs. Miniver and still very cute with a smart-beyond-her-years charm) plays Al's daughter, Peggy. She falls in love with the third man coming home from the war, the married Fred Derry. Fortunately, he's married to satan in blonde hair, so we get to see their marriage unravel and Fred and Peggy end up together. But the real problem is, though in the war Fred truly earned everything adorning his air force jacket, he comes home and is still just a soda jerk or construction worker at best. I don't mind, of course, that the nice girl with the rich father marries the guy who got fired from his job at the local pharmacy. I do mind that their interest in each other seems completely fabricated and lame. Still, this was an all-around good movie. Very entertaining throughout, with good acting all around. 8/10