THE BEST YEARS OF OUR
LIVES There are critics who see this William
Wyler 1946 Oscar
winner as falsely upbeat (an "evasive and cozy little tale,"
Michael Wood, America in the Movies), its three returning veterans having only to put their wills
to the task and work and rehabilitation will follow, the women little more than helpful
appendages. These critics see a patently feel-good movie with a too-easy resolution. This is not the movie
I see, not by a long shot. There is an underside to Best Years
(the title itself is ironic), an uneasy subtext that subtly shades
and enriches this story. Three servicemen return from the war.
Their military ranks reflect not at all their pre-war places in civilian
society: Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), an air force officer, comes from
a family that is literally from the other side of the tracks; Al
Stephenson (Frederic March), an Army sergeant, is a banker; Homer Parrish
(Harold Russell), a sailor, comes from a typical middle-class
family. In the nose of a retooled bomber (picture
above) taking them back to Boone City,
Al tells Fred,
"The thing that scares me most is that everybody is going to try to
rehabilitate me." But isn't that what is supposed to happen, a
return to normalcy? Al appears to have it all: a supportive
family, a good job waiting for him, an assured place in the
community. What's to rehabilitate? We get some subtle and not
so subtle clues. On his first night home he insists on taking his
wife Millie (Myrna Loy) and daughter Peggy (Theresa Wright) bar
hopping. Al, we quickly surmise, has a drinking problem. At
one point in the evening, plainly in his cups, he grabs Millie and hauls
her onto the dance floor. The most starkly visible change among the men
is Homer's loss of his hands. While he can joke with Al and Fred about his new-found ability to open
beer bottles, dial a telephone, and drive a car with "these
things," he cannot force himself to show his feelings to the people
he loves, especially to his girlfriend Wilma (Cathy
O'Donnell). The film pulls no punches here. Certainly one of
the most touching and heart wrenching scenes in all of American cinema
occurs when Homer brings Wilma up to his room in order to let her see how
dependent on others he really is, this to set her free to lead her life
without him. Here too, we are not sure of Homer's future at the end
of the film. Though the film ends with the marriage of Wilma and
Homer, there is no assurance that they will go on to the best years of
their lives. And what of Fred whose job search seems an
exercise in futility? He has no apparent skills; all he was taught
was to drop bombs. In America in the Movies Michael Wood
criticizes the way the movie handles Fred's landing a job: "(Y)ou
pull yourself together...and magically a job appears." But Fred does not pull himself together, certainly not prior to
landing a job. He wanders around the empty
hulks of bombers, not sure what he's looking for. We've learned earlier that
he suffers from nightmares brought on by the war's horrors he
experienced first hand. In a dramatic sequence in the grave yard, Fred climbs into his "office," the bombardier position in the
B-24; he again relives his horrendous combat experiences (picture
at left); the foreman of a crew
disassembling the planes yells for him to get out of the plane; Fred asks for a job and is offered one.
Is this a forced sequence to get Fred his job? I think not.
Rather I see Fred at the end of his rope when he walks out to the acres
and acres of soon-to-be-scrapped planes. This is where his
nightmares began and this is where they will end. There's no
magic to it. I suspect that many critics see the final
scene of Homer and Wilma's marriage as a neat resolution to everyone's problems. The famous shot
of the three couples (Al and Millie, Homer and Wilma, Fred and Peggy) shot
in Gregg Toland's deep focus is carefully constructed, for some too
carefully constructed, too obviously a happy ending metaphor.
But is it? Just prior to the wedding
vows we see Al sampling the punch; Fred admits freely to Peggy that his
future is far from secure; Homer, as far as we know, has no job
prospects. What these three couples have going for them is their
interdependency, which I take not as a weakness but as a sign of
growth. Al's fear of rehabilitation is a fear of losing the
independence he enjoyed away from family, but of course that independence
was illusory. Certainly Homer views his dependency as a
liability--until Wilma shows him otherwise. Let's face it--the women in this film
are sounder, more mature than their male counterparts. I see
this story
as a journey of these three men to reach this wholeness. What are the "best years" for
each character? Fred's wife Marie (Virginia Mayo) claims she's given
up her best years waiting for her husband's return from the war. But
the fact that she is the only character who refers to this tells me
something about the film's underlying implications. There are no
"best years" except perhaps in retrospect. The best years
are those at hand, and while nothing is assured, this film shows dramatically and
poignantly how three couples have a chance to get on with their lives and
perhaps invent their own best years. A comment about Gregg Toland's deep focus
photography. This technique allows the audience to examine the movie
as a more leisurely pace: our eyes have the luxury of wandering
about the frame, making our own connections, detecting
relationships. In Orson Welles' Citizen Kane, Toland and
Welles wanted especially to show Kane amidst his possessions. In Best
Years the intent was to show the relationship between people, the need
for interdependence. We have only to look at the stills on this page
to see how effectively this works. Visit the IMDb
for more information about The Best Years of Our Lives. Back to the Top Trips.
a commentary by Tony McRae
"You're a bewitching little creature,"
he tells her with a leer. "In a way you remind me of my wife."
"But you never told me you're married,"
Millie coyly replies, going along with the charade.
"Oh yeah, I got a little woman, two kiddies
back there in the states."
"But let's not think of them now."
"Oh you're so right. This night
belongs only to us."
On one level this is comic repartee straight out of a screwball comedy, but we get the feeling Al has used
this line before. And by the film's end we are still not so sure all
will be well with the Stephensons.
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