Now, Voyager

Dir: Irving Rapper

1942

*****

The big tobacco companies owe a great deal of gratitude to Irving Rapper’s 1942 adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel Now, Voyager. However, other than famously romanticising the sharing a cigarette, Now, Voyager really was the first great film exploring self discovery and second chances, and it hasn’t dated too badly either in the scheme of things. Its alternative romantic narrative also made it ahead of its time and somehow more compelling as it was more realistic and less of a fairytale. The film is an adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel where she borrowed the title from the Walt Whitman poem "The Untold Want":

The untold want by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

Producer Hal B. Wallis made Now, Voyager his first independent production and he took an active role in the production, including casting decisions. The initial choices for Charlotte were Irene Dunne, Norma Shearer and Ginger Rogers. Of course, when Bette Davis learned about the project, she campaigned for and eventually won the role. More than any other of her previous films, Davis became absorbed in the role, not only reading the original novel but becoming involved in details such as choosing her wardrobe personally. Consulting with designer Orry-Kelly, she suggested a drab outfit, including an ugly foulard dress for Charlotte initially, to contrast with the stylish, "timeless" creations that mark her later appearance on the cruise ship. The choice of Davis's leading men became important as well. Davis was aghast at the initial costume and makeup tests of Austrian actor Paul Henreid, she thought the "slicked back" gigolo-like appearance made him look "just like Valentino." Henreid was similarly uncomfortable with the brilliantine image and when Davis insisted on another screen test with a more natural hairstyle, he was finally accepted as the choice for her screen lover. In her 1987 memoir, This 'N That, Davis revealed that co-star Claude Rains (with whom she also shared the screen in Juarez, Mr. Skeffington, and Deception) was her favorite co-star. Once you have read her autobiography her films are never quite the same again. The story centres on Charlotte Vale, an unattractive, overweight, repressed spinster whose life is brutally dominated by her tyrannical mother, an aristocratic Boston dowager whose verbal and emotional abuse of her daughter has contributed to her complete lack of self-confidence. It is revealed that Mrs. Vale had already brought up three sons, and Charlotte was an unwanted child born to her late in life. Fearing that Charlotte is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her sister-in-law Lisa introduces her to psychiatrist Dr. Jaquith, who recommends that she spend time in his sanitarium. Away from her mother's control Charlotte blossoms, and at Lisa's urging the transformed woman opts to take a lengthy cruise instead of going home immediately. On the ship she meets Jeremiah Duvaux Durrance, a married man who is traveling with his friends Deb and Frank McIntyre. It is from them that Charlotte learns of how Jerry's devotion to his young daughter Tina keeps him from divorcing his wife, a manipulative, jealous woman who does not love Tina and keeps Jerry from engaging in his chosen career of architecture, despite the fulfillment he gets from it. Charlotte and Jerry become friendly, and in Rio de Janeiro the two are stranded on Sugarloaf Mountain when their car crashes. They miss the ship and spend five days together before Charlotte flies to Buenos Aires to rejoin the cruise. Although they have fallen in love, they decide it would be best not to see each other again. When she arrives home, Charlotte's family is stunned by the dramatic changes in her appearance and demeanor. Her mother is determined to once again destroy her daughter, but Charlotte is resolved to remain independent. The memory of Jerry's love and devotion help to give her the strength she needs to remain resolute. Charlotte soon becomes engaged to wealthy, well-connected widower Elliot Livingston, but after a chance meeting with Jerry, she breaks off the engagement, about which she quarrels with her mother. During the argument, Charlotte says she didn't ask to be born, that her mother never wanted her, that it's "been a calamity on both sides." Mrs. Vale is so shocked that her once-weak daughter has found the courage to actually talk back to her, she has a heart attack and dies. Guilty and distraught, Charlotte returns to the sanitarium. When she arrives at the sanitarium, she is immediately diverted from her own problems when she meets Jerry's lonely, unhappy 12-year-old daughter Tina who has been sent to Dr. Jaquith. Tina greatly reminds Charlotte of herself; both were unwanted and unloved by their mothers. Shaken from her depression, Charlotte becomes overly interested in Tina's welfare and, with Dr. Jaquith's permission, she takes her under her wing. When the girl improves, Charlotte takes her home to Boston. Jerry and Dr. Jaquith visit the Vale home, where Jerry is delighted to see the changes in his daughter. While he initially pities Charlotte, believing her to be settling in her life, he's taken aback by her contempt for his initial condescension. Dr. Jaquith has allowed Charlotte to keep Tina there with the understanding that her relationship with Jerry will remain platonic. She tells Jerry that she sees Tina as his gift to her and her way of being close to him. When Jerry asks her if she's happy, Charlotte finds much to value in her life, even if she doesn't have everything she wants. In what would have generally been considered as sad ending in those days, the couple agree to leave things as they are with Charlotte uttering the now infamous line "Oh, Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars,". It’s a vivid Hollywood-style adaptation but apart from the changes in location it is very faithful. The production of the novel had to take into account that European locations would not be possible in the midst of World War II, despite the novelist's insistence on using Italy as the main setting. All the European scenes were replaced by stock footage of Brazil. Prouty's quirky demands for vibrant colors and flashbacks shot in black and white with subtitles were similarly disregarded. The film highlighted Davis's ability to shape her future artistic ventures, as not only did she have a significant role in influencing the decisions over her co-stars, the choice of director was predicated on a need to have a compliant individual at the helm. Davis previously had worked with Irving Rapper on films where he served as a dialogue director, but his gratitude for her support turned into a grudging realization that Davis could control the film. Although his approach was conciliatory, the to-and-fro with Davis slowed production and "he would go home evenings angry and exhausted". The dailies, however, showed a surprisingly effective Davis at the top of her form. For years, Davis and co-star Paul Henreid claimed the moment in which Jerry puts two cigarettes in his mouth, lights both, then passes one to Charlotte, was developed by them during rehearsals, inspired by a habit Henreid shared with his wife, but drafts of Casey Robinson's script on file at the University of Southern California indicate it was included by the screenwriter in his original script. The scene remained an indelible trademark that Davis later would exploit as her own. Davis’ performance is obviously key in the film’s success but I think Irving Rapper’s direction is often overlooked as the film is just as visual as it is about the story and performance. The film remains ahead of its time in many respects but it is also rather dated, making it quite a unique and rather special movie. It’s not often that a film succeeds in being both magical and poignant at the same time without being too melodramatic or over the top. Now, Voyager has become hugely influential and is responsible for a certain sub-genre that is still to be bettered.

The First of the Few (AKA Spitfire)

Dir: Leslie Howard

1942

****

1942’s The First of the Few is a fascinating case study, not just for cinephiles but for historians too. It is a biographical film that tells the story of R. J. Mitchell, the designer of the Spitfire, the fighter plane regarded as a key factor that helped win the Second World War and prevented Britain from being invaded by the Nazis. The title is taken from Winston Churchill’s infamous speech describing the Battle of Britain aircrew that included the immortal line “Never was so much owed by so many to so few”, and while that is indeed true, not everything about the film is factual. Hardly surprising though, as being made in 1942 in the very middle of the war, The First of the Few (or Spitfire as it was known in the US), was a valuable propaganda weapon. Director and lead actor Leslie Howard had been travelling through Spain and Portugal lecturing on film, but also meeting with local propagandists and shoring up much support for the Allies. The British Film Yearbook for 1945 described Leslie Howard's work as "one of the most valuable facets of British propaganda”, something that Joseph Goebbels, Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda in Nazi Germany knew all too well. Goebbels had been ridiculed in Howard's film, and believed him to be the most dangerous British propagandist, something that may have cost him his life. Howard worked closely with Mitchell’s family and colleagues and knew of his fiery temperament – none of which was depicted on screen. Mitchell didn’t work himself to death trying to get the Spitfire into production, he died of bowel cancer. The famous Rolls-Royce Merlin engine was not named after the wizard of Arthurian legend as is depicted in the film, but was named after the bird of prey, as all the RR engines were. Mitchell never met Willy Messerschmitt and he didn’t name his famous aircraft after suggesting that he wanted to create “a bird that breathes fire and spits out death and destruction – a ‘spitfire’ bird”. The Spitfire was named by the RAF, and when he was told of the name he remarked that it was “The sort of bloody silly name they would choose”. I don’t like historical inaccuracies in historical films but The First of the Few is something of an exception. It is history, the Spitfire was a huge factor in winning the war – so was Mitchell, and in depicting him slightly differently after his death continued his fight. You can have all the aircraft and guns in the world but you can’t win a war without propaganda. This means that the film isn’t really about history, it is history. David Niven’s character is fictional, a composite character who represents the pilots who worked with Mitchell through his career and who offered needed support. It was vital that the film have narrative coherence, given the subject, time it covers, limited time it had and the point it needed to get across. I think that the film contains some historically significant footage that would otherwise have been lost makes up for much of the historical inaccuracies anyway. It contains the only footage available of the Supermarine S.4 taking off from Southampton and in flight, footage of real workers building the Spitfire at the Hamble Supermarine Factory (one being Wilfred Hillier working on the only left-handed lathe made at the time) and footage of real-life Battle of Britain fighter pilot in the opening and closing scenes. There are plenty of historical accuracies that were important to address, including Mitchell’s work in Italy and his visits to Germany when the Nazis were rising into power. Another example is the representation of Lady Houston. Lady Houston did indeed travel around the British Isles with an electric sign on her yacht ‘Liberty’ but instead of ‘Down with the government’ and ‘Wake up England’ the sign actually read ‘Down with MacDonald the traitor’. History suggests we were right to prepare for a war that many never thought would happen again but Lady Houston refers to MacDonald as a traitor due to his anti-war speeches in the run up to the First World War. If there was no First World War there more than likely wouldn’t have been a Second, who knows, but anti-war is hardly traitorous, so Howard rightfully included her but toned her down a bit. It is beautifully filmed and well performed, with one of the most glorious endings to a film of all time. The message was well received by the nation and the film did a great deal for the cause. However, the film became rather poignant when, on 1st June 1943 the commercial airliner he was travelling on was shot out of the sky by Luftwaffe junkers over the Bay of Biscay. Various theories regarding why flight 777 was shot down in particular have still never been proven. The BOAC DC-3 Ibis had been operating on a scheduled Lisbon–Whitchurch route throughout 1942–43 that did not pass over what would commonly be referred to as a war zone. By 1942, however, the Germans considered the region an "extremely sensitive war zone. On two occasions, 15 November 1942, and 19 April 1943, the camouflaged airliner had been attacked by Messerschmitt fighters while en route; each time, the pilots escaped via evasive tactics. Luftwaffe records indicate that the Ju 88 maritime fighters were operating beyond their normal patrol area to intercept and shoot down the aircraft. First Oberleutnant Herbert Hintze claimed that his Staffle shot down the DC-3 because it was recognised as an enemy aircraft. Hintze further states that his pilots were angry that the Luftwaffe leaders had not informed them of a scheduled flight between Lisbon and the UK, and that had they known, they could easily have escorted the DC-3 to Bordeaux and captured it and all aboard. A long-standing hypothesis states that the Germans believed that Winston Churchill was actually on board the flight and the then Prime Minister himself expressed sorrow over the incident in his autobiography. Churchill was due to fly but changed his plans to leave the following day, Howard’s manager whom he was travelling with bore a strong resemblance to Churchill and Howard had the same build as his chief minder, which he thought the reason for the attack. The Germans could have suspected even more surreptitious activities, since Portugal, like Switzerland, was a crossroads for internationals and spies from both sides. British historian James Oglethorpe, investigated Howard's connection to the secret services. Ronald Howard's book explores the written German orders to the Ju 88 squadron, in great detail, as well as British communiqués that verify intelligence reports indicating a deliberate attack on Howard. These accounts indicate that the Germans were aware of Churchill's real whereabouts at the time and were not so naive as to believe he would be travelling alone on board an unescorted, unarmed civilian aircraft, which Churchill also acknowledged as improbable. Ronald Howard was convinced the order to shoot down Howard's airliner came directly from Goebbels himself, who knew the dangers of his propaganda. Howard’s son believed this to be true after extensive research but Spanish writer José Rey Ximena’s claim that Howard was on a top-secret mission for Churchill to dissuade Francisco Franco, Spain's authoritarian dictator, from joining the Axis powers are also quite convincing. Either way, Britain lost two great men who wouldn’t live to see what they achieved but Mitchell’s legacy and Howard’s film live on.

The Magnificent Ambersons
Dir: Orson Welles
1942
****
The Magnificent Ambersons may not be the finished article that Orson Welles wanted as it stands today but I can only imagine what he actually had in mind. It is beautifully directed and includes some fantastic performances by Joseph Cotten, Dolores Costello and Tim Holt to name but a few. It's pure theatre, more theatre than cinema anyway but that's not a bad thing, particularly when it's Welles at the helm. It is famous for being cut to pieces in the editing room while Welles was out of the country and deemed a bit of a missed opportunity but without seeing the would be finished piece it's hard for anyone to comment but I would argue that it was in safe hands, those hands belonging to the great Robert Wise. Great but no Citizen Kane but then that's exactly the same unfair comparison that lead to its unpopularity. 

One of Our Aircraft Is Missing
Dir: Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger
1942
****
'The Archers' are probably responsible for the greatest British War propaganda film of the Second World War. It was called 49th Parallel. There weren't that many though and One of Our Aircraft Is Missing is by far the one people remember and it's as good technically but not so in idea. While the first film was to get the American's involved, an important strategy, One of Our Aircraft Is Missing was more for morale and unity that already existed in Europe to some degree. It's also very similar in story, just seen from the point of view of the allied forces rather than 'the other side'. Edited by none other than David Lean and it shows!