What a show. At first, judging from the blurbs, I expected a tale of tragic romance between a doomed Lancaster pilot (Niven) and the young woman (Hunter) in touch with him by wireless. They would each spill their life stories. They would fall in love over the radio. He would finally crash and be killed, or possibly land in France and thought dead, only to be spirited out by the French resistance. In the second case they would throw themselves into each other's arms, her face wet with tears of happiness.
It was nothing of the sort. The first few minutes make that clear. We're given a quick survey of the universe. "See that bright star? That's a nova. Thank heavens it's not our sun." Finally down to earth and the war in Europe. It's a whimsical fantasy about Niven's scheduled death being somehow mucked up, so that he actually meets Hunter and they embrace, call each other "darling," and kiss after five minutes of introduction. A surfeit of showy sets and dressings and impressive visual effects. The earthly scenes are in color; those shot in heaven are black and white.
All is not well in heaven though. Someone missed Niven as he was falling through the fog over the channel and he's survived by mistake. Lots of grumbling and fussing about with the recording secretary and so forth.
The end result: A celestial trial for Niven's life, while he lies on the operating table undergoing brain surgery to correct his injuries. Some of the dead people in heaven want the operation to fail so that Niven can die as he was supposed to. That would be Raymond Massey as the prosecutor, an anti-English Bostonian from the American War for Independence. The defense counsel, Livesy, claims that, since Niven has fallen for Hunter, an American WAC, he has a new claim to life that should be respected. No power on earth or in heaven could drag from me the outcome of that trial.
It's an impressive production, true enough. The resplendent sets, the fine performances, and the charm of the work itself are seductive. But I didn't get the point -- if there WAS a point. Even a fairy tale like "The Wizard of Oz" had a point. (PS: Kids, the point was "there's no place like home.") And the similar "A Guy Named Joe," with Spencer Tracy, had a point too, though aimed at adults: When someone you love dies in war time, you must pick up the pieces of your life and carry on.
But here we spend almost half an hour with Roger Livesy defending England and English culture against attacks by Raymond Massey's resolute Anglophobe. The script is pretty literary, by the way, with spontaneous quotes from Sir Walter Raleigh, Marvell, Scott, Byron, Washington, and Ben Franklin -- plus some source music from Mendelssohn.
But I didn't know where it all was going. This was shot at the end of World War II and released in 1946 -- and someone is still urging cooperation and solidarity among Britons and Americans? Because that's what it sounded like. I -- a Yank -- was frankly embarrassed by Raymond Massey's attacks on the Brits.
Well, it's fun enough if you don't think about it too much. But still, who the hell is Raymond Massey to feel so resentful towards England -- and Massey a Canadian at that!
It was nothing of the sort. The first few minutes make that clear. We're given a quick survey of the universe. "See that bright star? That's a nova. Thank heavens it's not our sun." Finally down to earth and the war in Europe. It's a whimsical fantasy about Niven's scheduled death being somehow mucked up, so that he actually meets Hunter and they embrace, call each other "darling," and kiss after five minutes of introduction. A surfeit of showy sets and dressings and impressive visual effects. The earthly scenes are in color; those shot in heaven are black and white.
All is not well in heaven though. Someone missed Niven as he was falling through the fog over the channel and he's survived by mistake. Lots of grumbling and fussing about with the recording secretary and so forth.
The end result: A celestial trial for Niven's life, while he lies on the operating table undergoing brain surgery to correct his injuries. Some of the dead people in heaven want the operation to fail so that Niven can die as he was supposed to. That would be Raymond Massey as the prosecutor, an anti-English Bostonian from the American War for Independence. The defense counsel, Livesy, claims that, since Niven has fallen for Hunter, an American WAC, he has a new claim to life that should be respected. No power on earth or in heaven could drag from me the outcome of that trial.
It's an impressive production, true enough. The resplendent sets, the fine performances, and the charm of the work itself are seductive. But I didn't get the point -- if there WAS a point. Even a fairy tale like "The Wizard of Oz" had a point. (PS: Kids, the point was "there's no place like home.") And the similar "A Guy Named Joe," with Spencer Tracy, had a point too, though aimed at adults: When someone you love dies in war time, you must pick up the pieces of your life and carry on.
But here we spend almost half an hour with Roger Livesy defending England and English culture against attacks by Raymond Massey's resolute Anglophobe. The script is pretty literary, by the way, with spontaneous quotes from Sir Walter Raleigh, Marvell, Scott, Byron, Washington, and Ben Franklin -- plus some source music from Mendelssohn.
But I didn't know where it all was going. This was shot at the end of World War II and released in 1946 -- and someone is still urging cooperation and solidarity among Britons and Americans? Because that's what it sounded like. I -- a Yank -- was frankly embarrassed by Raymond Massey's attacks on the Brits.
Well, it's fun enough if you don't think about it too much. But still, who the hell is Raymond Massey to feel so resentful towards England -- and Massey a Canadian at that!