ALL THE KING'S MEN (1949)

 ALL THE KING'S MEN (DIR: ROBERT ROSSEN) (SCR: ROSSEN, BASED ON THE NOVEL OF THE SAME NAME BY ROBERT PENN WARREN)

The best picture choice for 1949 makes for an interesting bookend to 1947's winner GENTLEMEN'S AGREEMENT.  Just as the earlier film showed a postwar America riddled with bigotry and antisemitism, so ALL THE KING'S MEN portrays the modern American political system as one rife with corruption, where demagogic, power mad politicians rule with an iron hand and manipulate the voters like sheep.   Although the film takes place in just one (unnamed) Southern state, clearly it is intended to represent the country's political scene as a whole, and, sadly, it is a portrayal that has not dated a bit.  It is interesting to note that when John Wayne was offered the lead role by director Robert Rossen, Wayne angrily turned it down, claiming that the film was unpatriotic.  Also, both Rossen and GENTLEMAN'S AGREEMENT director Elia Kazan would be called to testify at the House of UnAmerican Activities Committee as suspected Communists shortly after making these films.

ALL THE KING'S MEN began life as a novel by Robert Penn Warren published in 1946 to much acclaim and a Pulitzer prize.  It tells the tale of politician Willie Stark, who was loosely based on real life Louisiana governor Huey Long (the novel even ends with Stark's assassination at the state court house, which is the same way that Long died).  Columbia Pictures bought the movie rights to the novel for $250,000 dollars, and hired Rossen to both write and direct.  (Rossen had directed just two films before this, but he had been a screenwriter for years before becoming a director).  Columbia reportedly wanted Spencer Tracy to play Stark, but Rossen chose Broderick Crawford, who, until this film, was mostly known for small character parts; Rossen had been impressed by Crawford when he saw him on stage as Lenny in OF MICE AND MEN, and eventually he persuaded the studio to hire Crawford, who was anxious to do the role.
Another unusual decision by Rossen  (one that was influenced by the neorealist films coming out of Italy around that time)was to shoot the film in an almost documentary style; many of the exteriors were shot in small towns in California and real townspeople were hired for small roles,  and the crowd scenes often have the feeling of being more like a newsreel than a Hollywood film. Furthermore, even  the interior scenes are set in real (or real looking) houses and offices, and Rossen and cinematographer Burnett Guffey avoided close ups of the actors and often stacked them together tightly in small rooms to build a  sense of tension and conflict.
The film opens with newspaper reporter Jack Burden (John Ireland) being sent to a small Southern town to cover the story of Willie Stark, known as "the last honest man."  Willie is running for city council, hoping to reform what he sees as an unjust system, and Jack is taken with him and writes stories praising his bravery.  Although he loses the election, Willie puts himself through law school and starts representing the causes of the poor people in the town.  Eventually, he is picked to run as governor, but, he discovers that he was hired to split the "hick" vote and push the election towards another candidate.  His anger over this causes him to drunkenly improvise an angry speech, and, in an electrifying scene, he calls the audience hicks, but then admits that he is one too ("nobody ever helped a hick but a hick himself".)  The speech fires up the crowd, and even though he eventually loses the race, he is invigorated, saying that he now knows "how to win."  Sure enough, he becomes governor in the next election, and he often rules the state more like a mob boss than a politician, using his power to force bills through the legislature.  Even though he is shown doing some good, like building a new hospital, his administration is often outright criminal, at one point even murder is used to dispose of an unwanted adversary.  Ironically, it is his personal life that causes his downfall, not his political one; right after barely beating an impeachment attempt over that murder (which, of course, could not be proven to be connected to Willie), he is shot and killed by the brother of a young woman that the married Willie had been running around with.

Broderick Crawford

With his bulldog like features, large frame and gruff voice, Broderick Crawford was an unlikely leading man, but he was perfect for the role and won an Oscar for it.  It's really impossible to underplay a character like Willie Stark, and he certainly realized that!  He is totally believable as he goes from honest crusader to corrupt politician, loving family man to womanizer and teetotaler to drunk.  He is likable and admirable in the early scenes as he rails against injustice, and then equally despicable as he learns how to play politics and sells his soul for power, and Crawford  really comes alive in the excellently written political speeches he makes in which he grandstands like a real politician.  We really believe that he can connect with the common man, even if he himself is no longer one of them.
The film also has the debut performance of Mercedes McCambridge, who plays the  secretary Sadie Burke, and who also won an Oscar for best supporting actress.  With her deep voice and rough features, McCambridge is as unlikely a leading lady as Crawford was a leading man, but she is well cast as the smart, cynical Sadie and she would go on to play similar roles for the rest of her career. Although there is some sexism in the script's portrayal of Sadie's tough career woman leading  Willie into the dark side of politics (she is the one who tells him that he's just a patsy in his first gubernatorial race, and then gets him drunk and seduces him, inspiring his angry, career making speech),   McCambridge is so good in the role that we can't help but admire her ambition and drive.  She also brings some tenderness to the role, as she really does fall for Willie, and she has a nice moment where she looks in the mirror and jealously admits that she is not like the glamor girl that Willie is currently running around with.

Mercedes McCambridge

The film's dark view of American politics is striking and uncompromising: when Willie defends himself by saying he's no worse than other men ("Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption. He passes from the stink of the dydie to the stench of the shroud.") it seems like a simple justification.  But, later in the film, when faced with impeachment, Willie uncovers old, embarrassing information about an influential judge (Raymond Greenleaf) who, up until that moment, had been the personification of moral rectitude, in many ways proving Willie's point.  While the judge may not be the outright crook that Willie is, he too has made moral compromises, the kind of compromises that, according to the film,  all powerful people must make. Just how cynical about politics is this film?  It's important to note that Willie first gets into politics with noble gains, and that he only becomes corrupt when he realizes that that is the only way to win; it isn't Willie that's corrupt, it's the system itself that's corruptive. He's just a fast learner; from making sure to use tough guys to hand out his fliers,  to visiting his estranged family for a  good photo opportunity, to gathering his supporters to chant for him during his impeachment proceedings, he is a master of manipulation, getting the people's support as he gets away with murder.  And even if Willie's reign of terror is ended with his death, there are surely more men like him waiting in the wings.

If the film has a flaw, it is in the Jack Burden character, who's descent into corruption with Willie is not as convincing, or as compelling as Willie's.  Every time the film moves away from Willie to Jack it bogs down, and Jack's sporadic narration of the film is unnecessary and uninteresting.  Really, how could any other character be as interesting as Crawford's Willie Stark?


SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Clearly, I consider this an excellent film and a worthy (and bold) choice for best picture.  Although the year also gave us such good films as A LETTER TO THREE WIVES, THE HEIRESS and ON THE TOWN, I think ALL THE KING'S MEN was a fine choice. 

HAMLET (1948)

HAMLET (DIR: LAURENCE OLIVIER) (SCR:  OLIVIER, BASED ON THE PLAY BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE)


The Academy's choice for best picture of 1948 could not possibly be classier: it is, quite simply, the movie version of the most famous play ever, adapted, directed and starring the most famous Shakespearean actor of the 20th. century (and maybe of all time).  The Academy was so impressed with Laurence Olivier's work that he also won for best actor, (the first director to direct himself to a best actor award ever, it was also the first foreign made film to win best picture) although he lost the best director award to John Huston for THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE.

The English born Olivier began his career in 1926 at age 19 when he joined the Birmingham Repertory Company, where he swiftly moved into lead roles in Hamlet and Macbeth.  He debuted in movies in 1930, in a short film called TOO MANY CROOKS (which is believed to be lost ).  He would go on to play many other roles on the screen; his first Shakespearean role was as Orlando in director Paul Czinner's 1936 production of AS YOU LIKE IT.  Initially, he was unimpressed by the cinema, thinking it a lower form of art when compared to live theater.  That view changed for him when he starred as Heathcliff in William Wyler's 1939 filming of Emily Bronte's novel WUTHERING HEIGHTS.  The acclaim and success that he won for that role (along with the fact that he learned how to tone down his theatrical acting style for the screen) changed his mind about film.  In 1944 he directed himself in the title role of Shakespeare's HENRY V, which he turned into a rousing war time propaganda story, and it was somewhat inevitable that he would eventually tackle the immortal bard's most famous work(versions of Hamlet had been filmed before as far back as the silent era, but a definitive version still had yet to be made).  And so it was that he got the British film company, Two Cities Films, to put up the two million dollar budget, (a still impressive amount for the time), under the proviso that he himself would play the title role.  They also stipulated that the film not run over two and half hours, which lead to Olivier making some cuts to the original text.  The film would become an enormous international hit, although some Shakespeare purists would quibble over some of those deletions.

Laurence Olivier

HAMLET tells the story of Danish prince Hamlet, who discovers, through a ghostly appearance by his late father, that his uncle Claudius (Basil Sydney), murdered his father to take over the throne and marry Hamlet's mother, Gertrude (Eileen Herlie).  This shocking news seems to drive him insane, as he indecisively debates to himself whether or not to avenge his father.  Inevitably, his delay leads to tragedy.
As an actor, Olivier's portrayal of Hamlet is controlled; emotional without being over the top, he rarely raises his voice or makes broad gestures(unlike some Hamlets I've seen on stage or in films), instead he finds the poetic humor and beauty in the dialogue and delivers it beautifully.  And there is  a surprisingly raw sexuality in his scenes with Ophelia (Jean Simmons), and in the stark incestual overtones he has with Gertrude.  He is also excellent in the physical scenes, like in his duel with Laertes (Terence Morgan), or in his final leap down a flight of stairs at Claudius.  If I have a problem with him in the film, it's that at 41 I think he was too old for the role; amazingly, Herlie played his mother even though she was only 28!  Along with Olivier, the entire cast of the film is excellent, especially Simmons's marvelous performance as the tragic Ophelia.
As a director, Olivier seemed determined to remind the audience that this was a movie and not a play; his camera swoops and prowls all around the dark, shadowy castle sets, (it moves, perhaps, a little too much)and he often uses voice overs to deliver Hamlet's soliloquies.  The famous "to be or not to be" speech is delivered partly in voice over and partly spoken, an excellent way to show Hamlet's inner debate with himself.  Although the sets often have a sparse, artificial look about them, Olivier still displays many striking visuals:  the appearance of the ghostly king is filmed like a horror movie, as it should be, while the watery death of Ophelia is beautifully and touchingly rendered. 

Jean Simmons as Ophelia

The film opens with Olivier announcing that "This is the tragedy of a man who could not make up his mind."  Many critics have felt that this reduces the complexities of the play to a simple line, and while there is some truth in that, Olivier was clearly thinking of main stream audiences and their understanding of the play when he decided to include this line, and if it helped people get the play, then what's the harm in it?  Another more stinging criticism of the movie is the aforementioned cutting that Olivier had to do, which meant that the characters of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are completely eliminated (although Olivier gave some of Guilderstern's lines to Felix Alymer's Polonius).  Personally, I really miss the "What a piece of work is a man!" speech that Hamlet delivers to those two characters in the play, and I wish that Olivier had found some way to include it, and to instead cut out some of Ophelia's crazy scenes, which come across as a bit repetitive.  Still, if cuts had to be made, it would seem that for the most part, Olivier made the right choices, keeping the real meat of the story, along with the most legendary phrases.   And, at one hundred and fifty minutes, the film never drags.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Overall, it is difficult to find  fault with the Academy's choice, and as a record of a legendary actor giving his most famous performance, HAMLET holds up.  But, Olivier felt (and I agree) that his best cinematic Shakespearean work would come in 1955 when he played the title role in RICHARD III.  And as for the play Hamlet, in 1996 Kenneth Branagh made a version that I feel is superior to Olivier's; not only does the later version contain every word of the play, but it opens the story up more cinematically than Olivier's, making it, in my opinion, the best version of the play ever filmed that I've seen.  Finally, I have already mentioned that John Huston won the best director award of 1948 for THE TREASURE OF SIERRA MADRE, and I personally feel that that film holds up better than Olivier's, and that it should have won best picture.  Still, it's always hard to argue against Shakespeare.

GENTLEMAN'S AGREEMENT (1947)

GENTLEMAN'S AGREEMENT (DIR: ELIA KAZAN) (SCR: MOSS HART, BASED ON THE NOVEL BY LAURA Z HOBSON)

The Academy's pick for best picture of 1947 was a bold choice; although the film was an enormous success, it is that rare best picture winner that looked squarely at a serious problem in a modern setting.  Although today the film seems dated and heavy handed, it's message was powerful then, and it was one of the first films to take on anti-Semitism.
The film began life as a serialized novel for Cosmopolitan magazine by Laura Z Hobson, a Jewish woman who wrote it after being disgusted by the public ant-Semitic comments made by Congressman John Rankin.  An extremely popular book, 20th. Century Fox's studio head Darryl F. Zanuck paid $75,000 dollars for the rights.  Not surprisingly, the same Hollywood that avoided the subject of anti-Semitism in 1937's THE LIFE OF EMILE ZOLA, even though it played a role in the true story that the film was based on, was worried about the idea of tackling the subject head on. Other studio heads (who were mostly Jewish) tried to dissuade Zanuck (who wasn't Jewish) from making it, fearing that the film would stir up trouble, but he forged ahead.  For the film's director, he chose Elia Kazan(who wasn't Jewish, but who had a history of directing plays that had social commentary in his early theater days), who had made three feature films already (the most notable being 1945's A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN), and to adapt the novel he picked playwright Moss Hart.  This was a bit of a surprise, since before this Hart was mostly known for writing comedic plays like YOU CAN'T TAKE IT WITH YOU (Which was turned into a best picture winning film by Frank Capra in 1938) and THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER.  But the Jewish Hart felt so strongly about the film that he was willing to work for minimum pay just to be involved, and he delivered a mostly effective script that does contain a few welcome moments of wit.  Upon the film's release, Zanuck would be vindicated when the film became a big hit and won critical acclaim, and, of course, the Oscar for best picture.

The film begins with Philip Green (Gregory Peck), a widower and single father, arriving in New York City with his son (Dean Stockwell) and mother (Anne Revere)  to begin writing for a successful magazine.  At a party he meets his boss's niece, Kathy (Dorothy McGuire), and there is an immediate attraction between them.    When assigned to do an article about anti-Semitism, Philip can't seem to come up with any new ideas.  Then, it hits him, why doesn't he pretend to be Jewish for six months, so that he can write an inside story about the subject.  And, since he's new in town, few people will know that he's just pretending.  His boss, (Albert Dekker) loves the idea, but some of his Jewish colleagues are afraid that it will make trouble (this scene is believed to be based on the Jewish film producers trying to talk Zanuck out of making the film).  Philip goes ahead with the idea anyway and,

inevitably, he discovers more than he originally bargained for, especially when he finds anti-Semitic hiring practices in the very magazine that he's writing for.  Also, it begins to affect his relationship with Kathy; although she is initially supportive of him, when she realizes that she will have to tell her friends and family that her new love is Jewish, (he demands that she not tell her loved ones about the article) she begins to waiver.

Alan Garfield, Gregory Peck, Dorothy McGuire, and Celeste Holm

In the lead role, Gregory Peck is just fine, and he has good romantic chemistry with McGuire( I love the way that she looks overwhelmed after their first kiss); unfortunately, as his character delves deeper and deeper into his experiment, he often comes across as too rigid and self righteous, although to be fair, this is  really more of a script problem than anything to do with his acting.  McGuire is also good in the role of Kathy, which is a far trickier character to portray than Peck's; unlike his, her character isn't always sympathetic, as her own prejudices begin to surface before she realizes that silent acceptance of prejudice in others is almost as bad as exhibiting it yourself.  The supporting performances by Celeste Holm (as Anne Dettry, the fashion editor at Philip's magazine) and Alan Garfield (as Dave Goldman, Philip's old army buddy), are actually better than the leads; Holm, who was awarded a best supporting actress award, is funny and likable as the lovely but lonely fashion editor.  In fact, she is so endearing that I found myself wishing that Philip would wind up with her at the end instead of reuniting with Kathy.  Garfield, on the other hand, normally played lead roles, but was willing to take a smaller role here because he felt strongly about the film.  He is excellent as the Jewish friend that advises Philip during the article; in one good scene he points out to Philip that his anger over all the bigotry he's seen since he began the article comes from not having experienced it for a lifetime ("You're not insulated yet, Phil. The impact must be quite a business on you.").  But even Garfield has his breaking point, as we see in a tense confrontation he has with an insulting drunk.

Alan Garfield reaches his breaking point

The film's attitude on anti-Semitism is harsh and unblinking; it is portrayed as a fact of life, with restricted hotels and hiring practices commonplace.  It even shows how it can effect Jews themselves, with Phil's Jewish secretary lying about her name to get hired, and then fearing that the hiring of openly Jewish people at the magazine might result in the "wrong kind" being hired.  It is admirable that the film take such a critical view of American society, especially given the country's postwar optimism.  Unfortunately, once the film's point has been made, it becomes repetitive and overly strident, with one too many well intentioned speeches given in the film's final half hour. And, although there is a nice scene where Philip explains to his young son about the differences in the way different religions choose to worship, I wish the film at least had the guts to mention Jesus as part of that difference.  It also becomes too hung up on its love story when I wish it focused more on Philip's article and the effect it has when its published.  Still, this is a strong, well made film (Kazan shoots it in a mostly realistic style that works well for the story) with noble intentions.
In a sad bit of irony, the House of UnAmerican Activities Committee would begin it's investigation of Communism in Hollywood shortly after this film's release, and the committee would display the same kind of anti-Semitism that the film criticizes.  Many of the people called to testify before the committee were chosen because of their surnames (for example:  Danny Kaye, who's real last name was Kaminski).  Garfield (real last name Garfinkle) was called, as was Kazan; many people believe that the resulting stress of the investigation greatly contributed to Garfield's fatal heart attack in 1952.  As for Kazan, I will discuss his behavior in front of the committee when we get his next best picture winner,  1954's ON THE WATERFRONT.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Despite the film's financial success, it was still daring to pick a film that took on a controversial subject for best picture, and for that, I applaud the Academy.  But I don't find it to be the best film of that year; the excellent Dicken's adaptation,  GREAT EXPECTATIONS by David Lean, the classic noir OUT OF THE PAST by Jaques Tourneur and Charlie Chaplin's pitch black comedy MONSIEUR VERDOUX (in which he really put his Tramp character to rest!) are all superior.  And many old movie fans would say that perennial holiday favorite MIRACLE ON 34TH. STREET should have won, although I'm not as big a fan of that film as some people are.

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES (1946)

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES (DIR: WILLIAM WYLER) (SCR: ROBERT  E. SHERWOOD, BASED ON MACKINLAY KANTOR'S NOVEL, GLORY FOR ME)


After awarding two films in row that almost completely ignored the war, the Academy turned around in a big way, giving the award to what would be remembered as the ultimate story of postwar America, William Wyler's THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES.   "Every family in America is a part of this story!"  producer Samuel Goldwyn announced, and nearly all of them would see it, as it went on to be an enormous commercial success delivering  over ten million dollars in box office returns on a two million dollar budget.  And while it may have been about a very specific time and place, it has endured as a moving, powerful snapshot of American history, and also as a cinematic thank you note to the brave men who risked life and limb in the war, very much in the spirit of Tom Brokaw's book, THE GREATEST GENERATION.
Wyler was the perfect director for the material, given that, after directing MRS MINIVER, 1942's  best picture winner, he enlisted in the air force, where he shot documentary war films.   Right away, Wyler made the right decision in hiring cinematographer Gregg Toland to photograph the film, as he utilized the same excellent deep focus photography he used in CITIZEN KANE to make the film's simple small town settings (bars, stores, apartments) look beautiful.
The film opens with three GI's returning to the same (fictional) mid western town, Boone City, each clearly representing  an archetype of the kind of Soldiers that were then returning home.  They are Al Stephenson (Fredric March), a successful middle aged banker, Fred Derry(Dana Andrews), who was just a soda jerk before the war, and who is returning to the wife (Virginia Mayo) that he knew for less than a month before he left.  Finally there is Homer Parrish(Harold Russell, who really was handicapped), a young navy veteran who lost his arms in the war and uses prosthetic limbs now.  Each one of them has a big, moving homecoming scene, and it is to Wyler's credit that he finds a way to make each one different and play on different emotions (Homer, for example, is tentative in his arrival, nervous about how his new arms will appear to his family, while Al is far more excited).  There's also an amusing moment where Fred slowly walks towards his parents shabby home as a train rushes by behind him, and we realize that he literally is from the wrong side of the tracks.

Harold Russell, Fredric March, Dana Andrews

Inevitably the three men have trouble adjusting: Al is surprised to discover that his wife Milly (Myrna Loy) and two children Peggy and Rob (Teresa Wright and Micheal Hall) have become so independent without him.  And at his work, he butts heads with his boss (Ray Collins) when he demands that the bank make loans to poor GIs without collateral.  Meanwhile Fred is discovering that his pretty wife Marie barely made contact with his parents while he was gone, and that she expects to lead a high life that he can't possibly afford as he struggles to find work, his training as a bomber giving him no workable skills in the job market. He also finds himself drawn to Al's daughter Peggy, who resolves to break up his unhappy marriage.  And, finally, Homer feels his friends and family see him as some kind of freak because of his arms, so he avoids them, including his fiancee Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell) and he spends most of his time drinking at the bar owned by his uncle Butch (Hoagy Carmicheal).

Each one of these stories is well handled, and the entire cast is wonderful;  one can really sense that they all realized that this was a special and important movie.  It is also a tribute to Sherwood's script that the story of returning GIs also gives its female stars a chance to shine: Myrna Loy, best known today for starring opposite William Powell in the THIN MAN films, (and, being the best known performer in the cast, gets star billing here) is more than just a supportive and loving wife; she also brings a wry humor to the scenes where she has to deal with her husband's drunken behavior, and she gives a wonderful speech to her husband and daughter about the difficulties of a long term marriage ("How many times have you said you were sick and tired of me; that we were all washed up? How many times have we had to fall in love all over again?" ).   Teresa Wright, along with having excellent romantic chemistry with Dana Andrews, brings real intelligence and determination to her role as Peggy; she makes us see that her love for him is not just some silly infatuation, but that it is in the best interest for both of them.  And even Virginia Mayo, in the seemingly thankless role of the golddigging, unfaithful Marie has enough human moments to show that she's as disappointed in her quick decision to marry as her husband is. 
There are many great moments:  I love Al's speech about how his bank needs to do more about helping people, or when Fred walks through a line of decaying planes and flashes back to his days as a bomber.  But it is in the story of Harold Russell's Homer that the film really soars.  Originally, his character was going to suffer from shell shock and be prone to fits,  but when Wyler recalled seeing Russell in a documentary about handicapped soldiers, he hired him to, more or less, play himself in the film.  Although Russell's  acting is, at times,  a bit rough around the edges, it was an inspired choice by Wyler, as Homer becomes the heart and soul of the film.(And Russell would become the only actor to win two Oscars for the same role, one for Best Supporting Actor, and the other a special inspirational award)  The crucial moment for his character comes when Wilma confronts him and asks to know why he's avoiding her; he invites her to his bedroom so she can see for herself how hard it is for him to remove his arms every night and how helpless he is while lying down in bed.  This is a truly striking moment because it is the first (and only) time in the film when we see him without his arms, and, in showing Russell's real handicap and the difficulties it causes him, it becomes one of the few times in a fiction film where the wall between reality and made up story is shattered. It also ranks as one of the most romantic moments in movie history, as the sweet Wilma resolves to love him despite his handicap, saying, "All I know is, I was in love with you when you left and I'm in love with you now. Other things may have changed but that hasn't."

Cathy O'Donnell and Harold Russell

It is reported that Wyler originally intended to cut the film's running time, but when preview audiences responded so well to it, he just released it at its original three hours.   I think it was the right decision, as the film rarely lags, and the extended time reveals the real changes the characters go through, and let's us get to know them, so that we understand their motivations (Although I could have done without some of Al's drunken behavior).  Wyler also finds many moments of humor,  like a crowded dance scene in a night club, or Butch's cynical line about  the next war (" Then none of us have to worry because we'll all be blown to bits the first day. So cheer up, huh!".  )  All in all, this is a big, bold film clearly made with lots of heart and emotion, that, despite the main characters troubles,  looks forward to their future (and the future of America itself) with optimism and hope.  It's truly a classic.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

This becomes a tough call to make; while it is obvious that I adore this film,  another film was released that year that has gone on to become one of the most popular holiday movies ever,(although it was a box office disappointment at the time)  Frank Capra's marvelous IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE.  Also, NOTORIOUS, Alfred Hitchcock's most romantic movie, came out that year,  and it is also excellent.  So I won't argue with the Academy's choice, but a three way tie might have been nice!

THE LOST WEEKEND (1945)

THE LOST WEEKEND (DIR: BILLY WILDER)  (SCR: WILDER & CHARLES BRACKETT, BASED ON THE NOVEL BY CHARLES R. JACKSON)


Giving the best picture Oscar to Billy Wilder's THE LOST WEEKEND was probably one of the more surprising choices made by the Academy, seeing how it was seen as a daring film in 1945.  It was the first Hollywood film to really deal seriously with the problem of alcoholism (or addiction in general).  In its attempt to be as realistic as possible, it went into often nightmarish detail, and its powerful portrait of a man plunging into a suicidal addiction still holds up well today.

Wilder began his brilliant career in his homeland of Poland, where he became a writer and director; in 1933 he fled the Nazis to Paris, and eventually America.  After a crash course in English, he began working in Hollywood as a screenwriter.  He did excellent work in that capacity for directors Ernst Lubisch (1939, NINOTCHKA) and Howard Hawks (1941, BALL OF FIRE) among others.  Desiring more control over the final product of his scripts, (and taking a cue from fellow screen writer turned director Preston Sturges), Wilder made his move into the director's chair with 1942's fun comedy, THE MAJOR AND THE MINOR.  That was a big success, and his career was set.  As a writer and director, Wilder often gave his films a cynical streak, with corruption and/or infidelity often playing a large role (even the romantic comedy SABRINA, often looked at as his most charming film, opens up with the title character trying to commit suicide), and I feel that it is this cynical nature that has kept his films from feeling dated, unlike so many other films made at the same time. 
Wilder first became aware of the semi autobiographical novel THE LOST WEEKEND by Charles R Jackson when he grabbed the book before a train ride and couldn't put it down.  He immediately phoned his writing partner, Charles Brackett, and then got the Paramount Pictures studio to buy the rights for $50,000.  At first, the studio had misgivings about such a dark film, but it eventually became a hit, and the title is still used to this day to describe a wild drunken time (there's even a bar in San Francisco named after the movie!).
Wilder cast Ray Milland in the lead role as Don Birnam, a surprising decision given the Milland was seen at the time as a good looking, lightweight actor (Wilder had worked with him before on THE MAJOR AND THE MINOR), but it was an inspired choice that garnered the actor an Oscar.
Milland's good looks and charm are right for the character, as he uses them to get others to believe his promises to stop drinking time and time again, even while he is lying to them, and possibly himself.  And that charm also shines in an excellent speech he gives about how wonderful alcohol makes him feel ("I'm Michaelangelo, molding the beard of Moses").  To his credit, (and this is probably why he won the Oscar) he shows no vanity here, as he often allows himself to look haggard and torn, and his character becomes more and more unsympathetic as he literally begs borrows and steals to get money for another drink.

Ray Milland

As the movie opens, the camera zooms from a panoramic shot of New York City to the window of a single apartment, where we see a bottle of alcohol has been hidden outside the window.  Inside we see a sober Don, his brother Wick (Philip Terry) and Don's fiancee Helen (Jane Wyman) calmly talking about how Don and Wick are going up to the country for the weekend, and right away we know that Don is lying to the two of them about his drinking.  Sure enough, there will no weekend in the country for Don, as he soon finds himself on a bender that will see him spiral further and further downward, which Wilder shows by having the camera literally plunge into a glass of alcohol as his bender begins.  His descent is  shown in the bleakest manner possible (for 1945 anyway), as he goes from trying to sell his beloved typewriter (he's a frustrated writer) for alcohol money, to trying to steal a woman's purse.  At one point,  when it appears that he can't sink any lower, he begins to hallucinate, and imagines a rat climbing in through a hole in the wall of his brother's apartment and then being killed by a bat, a truly chilling image.  Amazingly, things get even worse when, after a tumble down the stairs,  he winds up at a hellish mental ward, where he hears other alcoholics scream in agony as the go through withdrawal.  Surprisingly, Wilder contrasts the truly nightmarish quality of this scene with the world weary humor of one of the orderlies named Bim(Frank Faylin), who informs Don that the alcoholics ward is "standing room only".  But the contrast works, as Bim's caustic dialogue keeps the scene from being too bleak, while also showing the inevitable disassociation that someone who works in a place like that would have to have.
Truly, Wilder seemed determined not to sugarcoat the horrors of addiction, and this determination, along with his demand that the film be shot mostly in real locations in New York(often with hidden cameras), give the film a powerful realism; as dark as Don's fall is, it is never unbelievable.  Although the film does have a happy ending, in which Don finally pledges to stop drinking and begins work on his novel, it is entirely possible that he is lying to himself yet again, and that more lost weekends await in his future.

Ray Milland and Jane Wyman

If the film has a weak spot, it's in the Jane Wyman character; Wyman does what she can with the role, but she is just too good to be true.  She remains steadfast and loyal to Don no matter how low he goes (his drunken behavior includes flirting with other women, something I'm sure she is aware of even if she doesn't actually see it).  She sticks with him even after his own brother (who has allowed Don to stay at his apartment for free) starts to give up on him.  Still, her character is important to Don's eventual redemption, and a flashback to how they first met provides the film's only really light scenes, which gives the audience some nice relief from the heaviness of the rest of the film.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Although THE LOST WEEKEND is not my favorite Wilder film, it was groundbreaking for its time, and it holds up very well, so I have no problem with the Academy's choice.  The only other film that year that I think compares is Elia Kazan's marvelous, sentimental A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN, but that wasn't as original as Wilder's film.

GOING MY WAY (1944)

GOING MY WAY (DIR: LEO MCCAREY) (SCR: FRANK BUTLER & FRANK CAVETT, BASED ON AN ORIGINAL STORY BY MCCAREY)

After picking  propaganda films for two straight years, the Academy decided to award much lighter fare with director Leo McCarey's  genial GOING MY WAY (although the war is mentioned in the film, it is only in the lightest way possible.)  Along with best picture, the film was also given six other Oscars, and it was the number box office hit of that year. Interestingly, Paramount studios originally had misgivings about the film, and forced McCarey to take a cut of the profits instead of a director's salary; the result was he had the highest reported income ($1,113,035) in the US that year!

Despite the glory heaped on it 1945, I personally feel that GOING MY WAY has dated badly: although it has a pleasant, breezy charm and some good songs, it's so lightweight and episodic that it often feels pointless, and downright silly.  It is, in many ways, an odd film, in that it's a comedy-drama-musical without many laughs, but with a featherweight tone that  kills any attempts at serious drama; even its musical numbers are woodenly directed, without a single dance step or interesting camera movement.  The drop in quality from the previous year's winner CASABLANCA is shocking.

Leo McCarey's career began at the Hal Roach comedy studios in the silent era, where he is generally considered to be the man who teamed up Stan Laurel with Oliver Hardy.  He eventually moved into comedy features, such as RUGGLES OF RED GAP in 1935 and DUCK SOUP (1933), the best Marx Brothers movie.  He also showed that he could do drama with the excellent MAKE WAY FOR TOMORROW in 1937.  In 1942, he had an idea to make a buddy film about two priests, basing the characters on people he actually knew.  After Spencer Tracy and James Cagney were considered, Mc Carey suggested Bing Crosby to play the lead role of the young priest.  At first the studio balked at Crosby playing a more serious role than audiences had seen him in before, but McCarey persevered, and he was cast. 

It is hard to believe today what a huge, multimedia star Crosby was in the 1940's; after first emerging as a singer in the early 30's he racked up hit after hit, culminating in his 1941 recording of "White Christmas", which was the number one single of all time until Elton John's "Candle in the Wind" in 1997.  Along with hit records, Crosby appeared in a number of popular films, like the ROAD TO movies he made with Bob Hope.

Bing Crosby and the choir

I find it a bit stunning that Crosby was awarded a best actor award for GOING MY WAY; it may be a more serious film than those ROAD TO movies, but he plays it in much the same manner: his character just floats, nonchalantly though the film, never raising his voice or looking particularly concerned (even when the church burns down!).  The only thing different about this performance when compared to his previous ones, is that, being a Catholic Priest,  he doesn't get any romantic interest.  While he is likable enough (I did enjoy the scene where he tells a young couple that he was almost a song writer instead of a priest while tinkling at a piano), he does very little serious dramatic acting, and surely did not give the best male performance of the year.

The film's plot involves Crosby's Father O'Malley being sent in to help a financially desperate church, run for forty five years by Father Fitzgibbon(Barry Fitzgerald).  Inevitably, the two men butt heads, but eventually O'Malley's more good natured manner wins over the older man and saves the church.   Now, according to Crosby himself, McCarey threw out the script on the first day and came up with new scenes to shoot daily, while he encouraged his actors to improvise.  Apparently, this lackadaisical manner was nothing new for McCarey, but, what worked so well with the Marx Brothers and Laurel and Hardy, does not turn out so well here; the film's story has no thrust, and there are too many predictable subplots.  And what story there is is often ridiculous.  Consider this chain of events: Father O'Malley decides that the church needs a new choir, and he recruits a bunch of street kids, who go from small time robbers to angelic choirboys in about ten seconds, and who, wouldn't you know,  just happen to turn out to have beautiful voices.   Then Father O'Malley chances to run into Genevive (Rise Stevens), an old  friend of his who has become a professional opera singer.  Eventually, she agrees to record an original song he has written, backed by the church choir, naturally.  And, in another lucky break, Father O'Malley's old pal, Father Timothy (Frank McHugh) has a relative in the music business who agrees to give them an audition!  I'm all for suspension of disbelief, but that is one amazing run of coincidences; if the film were more of  a comedy, I might be more forgiving, but in a relatively serious film it is just too much for me to swallow.

Bing Crosby and Barry Fitzgerald

In contrast to Crosby's low key charm, many of the actors in the film give broad, silly performances, and I don't think encouraging them to improvise was such a great idea, as it leads to some annoying mugging for the camera.  And as Genevive, Rise Stevens, who certainly had a lovey operatic voice, is quite simply, hopeless as a believable actress.  On the other hand, I do think that Barry Fitzgerald is very good as the aging Father Fitzgibbon; in perhaps the film's best scene, he tries to send Father O'Malley away, saying things aren't working out between the two of them.  Then he discovers that Father O'Malley is actually the one in charge of the church now (Father O'Malley hadn't told him to protect his feelings), and the old man is broken, wandering the streets in the rain.  Although we know that he will eventually snap out of it, Fitzgerald really does let us see the sadness and pain his character is in, finding a level of seriousness that the rest of the film could use more of.  Fitzgerald also gets the film's comic highlight when Father O'Malley and Father Timothy convince him to join them in a game of golf, his first ever, and he proceeds to annoy them with his constant questions and badgering.  The strength of Fitzgerald's performance makes me wish the film had focused more on his and Crosby's character and less on the pointless subplots (like when Father O'Malley plays cupid for a young couple).

Finally, I should say a few words about the music; this film gave us the debut of the classic "Swinging on a Star", written by James Van Heusen and Johnny Burke, and the rest of the songs are all well performed by the cast too.  Still, I wish McCarey would have come up with a more cinematic way to present them than having his characters stand stock still while singing.  Sure, the songs sound good, but the visuals are a dud.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

I think I made it pretty clear that I'm not a big fan of this film, and I would argue that the film's relatively rare appearance at revival houses these days bears me out.  Amazingly, two outright classics that are often revived today were also released that year: Billy Wilder's DOUBLE INDEMNITY and Vincent Minnelli's MEET ME  IN ST. LOUIS (now there's a movie with well directed musical numbers!).  Also very good are Otto Preminger's LAURA and George Cukor's GASLIGHT, and I would have taken any one of those films over the uneven GOING MY WAY.

CASABLANCA (1943)

CASABLANCA (DIR: MICHEAL CURTIZ) (SCR: JULIUS J. EPSTEIN, PHILIP G. EPSTEIN AND HOWARD KOCH, BASED ON THE PLAY "EVERYBODY GOES TO RICK'S" BY MURRAY BURNETT AND JOAN ALISON)

In 1943, with the war still in full swing, it was no surprise that for the second year in a row the Academy gave an unabashed propaganda film the best picture award.  But, unlike the previous year's MRS. MINIVER, which is rarely revived or remembered today, Micheal Curtiz's CASABLANCA has endured far beyond its intent as war time propaganda to become an absolute classic that still has a strong cult following today.  I would argue that it is quoted and parodied more than any other Hollywood film, except for maybe THE WIZARD OF OZ.
Unlike, say, GONE WITH THE WIND, nobody involved with the film realized just how special the film they were working on was going to be.  Its origins stretch back to 1938, when Murray Burnett visited Nazi occupied Vienna and observed an African American pianist playing jazz at a nightclub for an audience of French people, Nazis and refugees.  He later turned his diary of this trip into a play titled EVERYBODY GOES TO RICK'S, which he cowrote with Joan Alison.  The play was never produced, but it was sold to the Warner Brothers studio, where it bounced around for a while (Ronald Reagan and Ann Sheridan were once considered for the roles of Rick and Ilsa) before it fell into the hands of director Micheal Curtiz and his perfect cast.  After screenwriters (and brothers) Julius and Philip Epstein left the project, Howard Koch rewrote their script, which emphasized comedy, to be more melodramatic.  (Thankfully, he left in a lot of the great funny lines that have really added to the film's reputation).  Reportedly, Koch's rewrites were going on during shooting, which meant that the actors didn't know just how their characters were going to end up in the story; one big example of this is that Claude Rain's Louis Renault character, who is mostly a villain throughout the film, becomes a hero at the end, in what is probably the film's most famous scene.(It should be mentioned that there are some reports that the script of CASABLANCA is really not that different than Burnett and Alison's play; I've never had a chance to read the play myself, and its only major run was in 1991 in London.  I'd love to get a chance to see it sometime!).
The film had an initial run in 1942, but then was rereleased in 1943, when, in a felicitous bit of timing, president Franklin Roosevelt and prime minister Winston Churchill were having a summit in Casablanca itself, which Dwight Eisenhower's troops had secured for the Allies.  This bit of free publicity vaulted this modestly budgeted (about one million dollars) film into a huge success.

Humphrey Bogart and Dooley Wilson

There is a painfully dated  moment in this film in which Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman) refers to the fully grown African American pianist Sam (Dooley Wilson)  as a "boy".  There is also a flashback to Paris that opens with a unconvincing (even by 1942 standards) rear screen projection behind Ilsa and Rick (Humphrey Bogart), and Bogart's expression in this shot looks pained and oddly forced.  And I find the opening, before we get to Rick's cafe, a little slow.  OK, now that I've covered the only possible flaws I can find in this film, let me go on to praise what I love about the film: Everything else!  Yes, while it may not be as innovative as CITIZEN KANE, or have the eye popping technicolor and great songs of THE WIZARD OF OZ, nor have the epic sweep of the first two GODFATHER films, when it comes down to the fundamentals of great film making, that is, an excellent story, well acted, with good characters delivering terrific, memorable dialogue, CASABLANCA just may be the best Hollywood has ever had to offer.  It works on many levels: the romance between Ilsa and Rick is moving, and the jovial relationship between Rick and Louie is just as interesting, there's lots of humor, and many moments of tension and excitement during the story (although there is little on screen action in the film, there is a constant sense of danger running through it).  Even the music is wonderful, from Max Steiner's excellent, dramatic score, to Dooley Wilson's classic rendition of "As Time Goes By", a song originally written in 1931 by Herman Hupfeld.  And, of course, there are rousing moments of anti Nazi propaganda, my personal favorite being when French resistance leader Victor Lazlo (Paul Henreid) has Rick's band play "La Marseillaise" to drown out the singing of the Nazis.

At first glance, Curitz may have not seemed the right director for this material, given that before this he was mostly known as an action film director (apart from this film, his most famous movie is 1938's highly enjoyable THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD, with Errol Flynn), but he deftly manages to juggle the film's complicated plot(with many sub plots) and numerous characters so that the audience is never confused, even when a lot is happening.  Indeed, I think the complexities of the plot are a big part of the film's cult following; you need to see it more than once to catch everything!

I think another part of the continuing interest in this film is because of its location, specifically Rick's Cafe Americain; who wouldn't want to hang out at such an exotic place, full of romance and excitement,  (the first time we go into the cafe, Curtiz quickly gives us moments of mysterious deals being made at different tables, as if the whole place were alive with intrigue), not to mention the great music (along with "As Time Goes By", Wilson also terrifically sings "Shine" and "Knock on Wood"). 

The film is wonderfully cast down the line: Bogart as Rick was never better, as he goes from bitter cynic who "sticks his neck out for nobody" to a freedom fighter who bravely sends away the woman he loves for the good of the cause.  There a real rawness to the moment where he drunkenly curses his luck at seeing Ilsa again; he is truly hurt and vulnerable here, and Bogart brings an authenticity to this moment (and other such moments in the film)that few of his contemporaries could. (Imagine Reagan in this role!)  Love has kicked this man in the teeth, and we can feel it.   I also enjoy the fact that the first time we see Rick, he is playing chess; a nice way to foreshadow the chess like maneuvers he will make at the end of the film.   Equally wonderful in the film is Claude Rains as Louie Renault, the bribe taking ("I'm only a poor, corrupt official") captain of the guards, who subtly but significantly pushes Rick into doing the right thing before joining him in the end.  And lovely Ingrid Bergman is great as a woman torn between two men, even if the actress complained that she didn't know whom she would wind up with until the final days of shooting (who knows, that ambiguity may have even added to her performance).  In the thankless role of Victor Laszlo, Paul Heinried is suitably noble, and manages to find human shadings to his character  even as he represents the bravery of the French resistance.  (I greatly enjoy the way that he and Rick can calmly discuss the fact that they are both in love with Ilsa).  Even the minor parts are well played: Peter Lorre's Ugarte, Sydney Greenstreet's Signor Ferrari, SZ Sakall's Carl and Leonid Kinsky's Sasha are all only in a few scenes, but they are vivid and interesting characters.  And there are many other minor but striking people that liven the film.

Conrad Veidt as Maj. Strasser

And, while so much has been written about this film over the years, I don't think enough credit is given to the often unmentioned performance of Conrad Veidt as the evil Nazi, Major Strasser.  With his cold, piercing, gaze, pencil thin mustache and clipped German accent, he is a truly formidable presence and one of the great movie villains; even when sitting at a table talking calmly he seems threatening.  His every movement and word drips with the sense of infallibility that the Nazis had, and it is that sense that proves to be his downfall: even with a gun trained on him, he cannot believe that a "blundering American" like Rick would actually shoot him.  Interestingly,  the German born Veidt fled his homeland in 1933 to avoid the Nazis, and perhaps his chance to portray one of them as so evil is why he's so terrific here (he would also play Nazi villains in 1941's ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT and 1942's NAZI AGENT).

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

Not since 1930's ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT had the Academy picked a film that stood head and shoulders above the rest; although 1942 gave us such fine films as THE MORE THE MERRIER and THE OX BOW INCIDENT, there really was no competition with CASABLANCA.

MRS. MINIVER (1942)

MRS. MINIVER (DIRECTOR:WILLIAM WYLER)  (SCREENPLAY: ARTHUR WIMPERIS,   GEORGE FROESCHEL, JAMES HILTON, & CLAUDINE WES, BASED ON THE NOVEL BY JAN STRUTHER)

The Academy's choice for best picture of 1942 was as much a political one as it was an aesthetic one; with America now fully engaged in the war, Hollywood studios saw themselves as part of the War Department propaganda office, with scripts being sent to the Pentagon for approval.  So, it's no surprise that the Academy showered glory (six Oscars in all) on an unabashed propaganda film like William Wyler's MRS. MINIVER.  Indeed, president Franklin Roosevelt urged Metro Goldwyn Mayor to rush its release, and no less an authority than Winston Churchill would describe its source novel by Jan Struther as more important to the allies' than "six divisions of war effort." While, like most propaganda of any kind, it hasn't dated so well, it still is a well made and well acted effort, with striking, Oscar winning cinematography by Joseph Ruttenberg(already displaying the excellent use of light and shadow that he would later use in noir films like SIDE STREET).  Propaganda or not, it proved to be an enormous box office hit in both England and the US.

Jan Struther first created the Mrs Miniver character in a series of columns that she wrote for the British newspaper The Times in 1937; they were based in part on her family and their experiences, and they were originally lighthearted in nature, but they changed as war became inevitable.  The columns were published in book form in 1939, which was very popular in America as well as in England, so a movie version was a natural choice.

The film opens with Kay Miniver (Greer Garson) making her way through the busy streets of London, a look of great concern on her face.  She gets on a bus, and then suddenly jumps off and runs back towards where she came from.  And what is the cause of her great concern?  She has decided to purchase an expensive hat that she originally passed up as too extravagant!  Yes, life is good for her at first: Clem, her husband (Walter Pigeon) is a successful architect and loving mate, she has two cute young children,  another son, Vincent(Richard Ney) at Oxford, and she lives in a nice little house in a small town near London.   But the onset of war will change everything for her, and by the film's end she will have seen her eldest son go off to fight while her own house is partially bombed out.

Considering the subject matter, I think director Wyler shows admirable restraint in this film: yes, it has many big, dramatic moments, but he never lets the film sink into overt sentiment.  He uses the soundtrack sparingly, avoids closeups, and gives many of the scenes a stark, realistic quality.  There is a wonderful shot of Kay and Vincent's fiancee Carol (Virginia Merril) watching as Vincent leaves on an air force mission; there are no tears, no soaring strings on the soundtrack, it's just a moment of quiet concern and sadness, in which the bravery of the young soldier is matched by the women who love him.

Virgina Merril and Greer Garson

Wyler's stark style is also displayed in the film's best scene in which Kay is confronted by a German fighter pilot(Helmut Dantine) who's plane was shot down.  At first, she sees his apparently unconscious body lying on the ground, she approaches and attempts to snatch his gun away, but he revives and threatens her.  It's an extremely tense scene, one made even more frightening when the armed pilot enters the Miniver household.  Although it ends with the pilot delivering a heavy handed (but frightening!) speech about how "thousands more like me are coming",  it still is well handled and effective.  Another excellent moment comes later when Kay, Clem and their two small children are hiding in a bomb shelter during a raid; with just the sounds of the screaming bombs getting louder and louder, Wyler  shows not only their fear , but also the sense of hopelessness they have at being unable to protect their children from the approaching danger.
Wyler also finds some nice moments of humor and romance in the film; I particularly enjoy the character of Lady Belton (Dame May Witney) a pompous woman who represents British royalty, and who is aghast at the thought that a bombing raid means that she will have to spend time in the cellar!  The romance between Vincent and Carol is also well done, although the American born Virginia Merril's lack of an English accent is distracting.
The film's main strength is Garson's excellent  performance as Kay; she is completely believable in her transformation from spoiled housewife to brave woman who represents the heart and soul of England.  She has fine romantic chemistry with Pigeon (we always see their love for each other, even when they're in the bomb shelter ), and she is clever and brave in her confrontation with the German pilot; I love the way that, instead of being scared or upset by his threats about the oncoming German invasion, she gives him a sharp slap to the face.   Garson even gets to be funny when she casually tells her shocked husband about how she handled the pilot.  One dramatic choice in her performance is that, throughout the film, despite all the trauma and danger she encounters, she never cries, until the very end; I think this is the right choice, because it shows her desire to keep a brave face, no matter what  happens, (remember that she is supposed to represent the bravery of England as a whole)and, when she finally does break down, (with good reason)it is all the more moving.
Although I've mentioned Wyler's restraint with the material, this is still a propaganda film that often inevitably falls into heavy handedness: sometimes its depiction of England's resoluteness is unbelievable (the Minivers hardly seemed phased when a large section of their house is bombed!), and changes were made from the source novel to Americanize the English setting to help sell the film to US audiences.  In one scene, towards the film's end, during the town's large garden party, we see Lady Beldon graciously (and secretly) refuse a first prize award for her prize rose, allowing a lowly station master to win instead; this is clearly meant to show that during war time, normal class distinctions and tradition (Lady Beldon had been winning the award for years) are ignored.  While this is a nice scene, I'm not entirely sure I buy that Lady Beldon would be so goodhearted, since she has been portrayed as so full of herself and her position until that moment.

The big speech ending

Not surprisingly, the film's ending drives home its point with a complete lack of subtlety: in a bombed out church, the local Vicar (Henry Wilcoxon) gives an uplifting speech about the righteousness of the English cause, followed by the congregation singing "Onward Christian Soldiers" as English planes streak by above.  This speech was considered strong enough that it was translated into different languages and turned into pamphlets that were dropped on occupied European countries to help buck up their spirits.  Although the speech has not dated well, Wilcoxon delivers it with energy, and it makes its point without going on for too long.  (Unlike, say, Charlie Chaplin's speech at the end of his THE GREAT DICTATOR in 1940).  That was one of Wyler's strengths as a director: pacing, even when its being obvious, this film never gets boring.

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

While it certainly is clear why the Academy chose this film, and it really is quite good, I don't think it was the year's best, not when Ernst Lubitsch"s TO BE OR NOT BE (a funny propaganda film),  and my personal favorite, Preston Sturges's SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS, were also released.