Waterloo Bridge

Year:  1940

Filming:  Black & White

Length:  108 minutes

Genre:  Drama/Romance/Tragedy/War

Maturity:  PG (for intense thematic elements)

Cast:  Vivien Leigh (Myra), Robert Taylor (Roy Cronin),

Lucille Watson (Lady Margaret Cronin), Virginia Field (Kitty),

Maria Ouspenskaya (Madame Olga Kirowa), C. Aubrey Smith (The Duke), Halliwell Hobbes (Vicar at St. Matthew’s), Rita Carlyle (Flower Woman)

  

Director:  Mervyn LeRoy

Personal Rating:  3 Stars

***

    I’m generally none-too-keen on tragedies. When I sit down to watch TV, I usually want to see pictures with either a happy or at least a hopeful conclusion, for at least some of the characters. But Waterloo Bridge, tragedy though it may be, has a certain timeless quality and serves as cautionary tale for those teeter on the brink of despair and a tender story about the enduring quality of true love.

    The story opens in London during the First World War. Robert Taylor stars as Roy Cronin, a young officer in the British Army who is preparing to be deployed overseas in a matter of days. In the midst of an air raid over Waterloo Bridge, he meets a beautiful ballerina named Myra, played by Vivien Leigh. She gives him her lucky ladybug charm and says she hopes it will keep him safe in the trenches. Later that evening, he attends her ballet performance and takes her on a date at a romantic candlelight club.

    The ballet school instructor, Madame Olga Kirowa, is fiercely against any of her students becoming romantically involved, and tries to come between Myra and Roy. But with the help of her best friend, Kitty, Myra manages to slip out for another excursion with her soldier who plans on marrying her that very day. Unfortunately, their plans have to be postponed until the following morning, and Roy is suddenly ordered overseas that very night.

    To make matters worse, Madame Kirowa fires Myra and Kitty from the ballet troupe and they are forced to live in miserable conditions in the city. Practically starving, Myra hopes to obtain help from Roy’s mother, Lady Margaret, who has traveled down from Scotland to meet with her. But when Myra spies an article in the newspaper listing Roy among the battle casualties, she acts erratic and unstable in front of his mother, refusing to tell her the reason for her consternation. Lady Margaret leaves bewildered.

    Believing that the love of her life is dead, and still unable to get a job, Myra follows Kitty’s example and becomes a prostitute. Then to her shock, while searching for “customers” at a train station, she discovers that Roy is alive and still very intent on marrying her. Shocked and ashamed, she tries to bury her past and travels to with Roy to his family’s country estate in Scotland. There, everything is too good to be true as Roy’s mother, uncle, and other family members welcome her with open arms.

    Myra soon finds herself unable to keep up the charade, especially after his military uncle gives her a monologue about the honor that must be upheld for Roy’s family and regiment, and how he is sure she would never fail them. She finally divulges her sordid past to Lady Margaret, who is shocked yet sympathetic. But when she insists Myra tells her son everything, the former ballerina swears his mother to silence and runs away.

    When Roy finds out she has left, he follows her back to London where he and Kitty desperately search for her. In the process, he discovers the whole truth about Myrna’s time as a prostitute. Even as events take an ironically tragic twist on Waterloo Bridge where they first met, Roy finds a deeper source of love within himself than he had ever known existed.

    As mentioned above, I am not keen on tragedies in film because they often follow a seemingly preordained series of unfortunate events concocted by fatalists determined to sell more Kleenex in movie theatres. Conversely, I enjoy tragic poetry because the medium seems to lend itself more to the ominous. Plus, it takes a shorter time to get through. When sitting down to watch TV, however, I usually gravitate towards more inspirational fare. For example, while A Man for All Seasons, Braveheart, and For Greater Glory end with the main characters biting the dust, we still feel enthused to charge the heights in their memory. The title of tragedy is veritably snatched away altogether.

    But Waterloo Bridge is not your average soap-opera-style doom-and-gloom flick. It also has a depth of feeling and artfulness in production that could only comes out of war-time Hollywood. This is another film where the black-and-white shooting that fits the mood to a tee. The foggy London streets and Waterloo Bridge are expertly captured in foreboding atmospheric shots. The music is also expertly chosen. Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake is used as the background for much of the movie, which I thought was very haunting, reminding the viewer both of Myra’s life as a ballerina and foreseeable death by her own hand.

  

    The acting overall was quite good, and I especially liked Vivien Leigh in this role. She has such a wonderful “far off” look, with eyebrow raised mysteriously. I was pleasantly surprised to see her playing a sympathetic character once, since her roles as Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind and Lady Hamilton in That Hamilton Women did little to endear her to me. She successfully made Myra a relatable character we really can sob over as fate conspires against her.

    I think Robert Taylor may have been a bit miscast considering that he’s supposed to be playing an officer from Scotland and doesn’t have the least hint of an accent beyond Midwestern America. But even so, I thought he did a pretty good job as a lovable yet impetuous young soldier. Interestingly, Leigh herself had been opposed to Taylor being cast in the part, insisting that Laurence Olivier be cast instead. But in the end, both of them worked out well together and considered this film to be one of their personal favorites. Taylor was especially appreciative that Leigh resigned her reservations about him and showed him the ropes.

    One thing that irked me a bit was the beginning of the film in which Taylor is supposed to be an old man reminiscing on his stormy romantic past, looking mistily over Waterloo Bridge. My first reaction was to laugh because he simply didn’t look like an old man. It was obvious someone had dumped flour in his hair, pasted a fake white mustache on his upper lip, and told him to try on hobble on a cane.

    The other thing that seemed to leave a gap was the manner of Myra’s suicide. Considering that the main motif of this production is Waterloo Bridge, and Taylor is shown at the beginning staring wistfully into the water, it seemed almost a given that she was going to throw herself off the bridge. This would have been one more correlation linking her to Swan Lake and would have fit the irony perfectly. But instead, Myra walks in front of a truck. It just didn’t seem congruent with the way the plot was leading. Perhaps this was intended as a twist, but it still left me feeling like the final element of the tragedy was given short-shrift.

    But nevertheless, this film is generally a piece of good cinema, even if it is meant to make people in a good mood feel bad and people in a bad mood feel worse. This is realism at its best, recognizing that such is the state of life for many and hopefully helping us to enhance our sense of compassion and understanding for those around us with troubled pasts. Waterloo Bridge may not be my favorite flick, and I won’t be rushing out to watch it again, but it is definitely worth a watch for its complex characters, plausible circumstances, an appealing romance, terrific setting, and powerful lesson to be learned.

   

Myra (Vivien Leigh) dances with Roy (Robert Taylor) at his Scottish Estate

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain

Year:  1995

Filming:  Color

Length:  120 minutes

Genre:  Comedy/Drama/Inspirational/Romance

Maturity:  PG (for mild language and brief sexual innuendos)

Cast:  Hugh Grant (Reginald Ansen), Tara Fitzgerald (Betty), Colm Meaney (Morgan the Goat), Kenneth Griffith (Rev. Jones), Ian McNeice (George Garrad), Robert Pugh (Williams the Petroleum), Ian Hart (Johnny Shell-shocked), Lisa Palfrey (Blod Jones)

Director: Christopher Monger

Personal Rating:  5 Stars

***

    A delightful does of laughter and inspiration, The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain is the saga of a small Welsh community and their refusal to be cowed in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Based on a true story and brought to life by a brilliant cast, it is a testimony to the British rebel streak that will leave you in stitches!

    Hugh Grant stars as Reginald Ansen, an English cartographer recently returned home from fighting in WWI. Along with his grumpy senior associate, George Garrad, he is sent on an assignment to a small Welsh village to measure the height of a local "mountain" called Ffynnon Garw by the locals. Unfortunately, after the measurements are taken, it is discovered that the "mountain" is actually nothing more than a hill! Ansen tries to break this as gently as possible the assembled townsmen laying bets on how high their “mountain” really is, but nothing he says makes the verdict sit any better with the locals who interpret it as a direct affront to their good name.

    After the elderly Reverend Jones calls an emergency meeting at the chapel, Morgan the Goat, the wily innkeeper, devises a scheme to restore the town's honor by raising the height of their hill with dirt from the residents’ gardens. But the cartographers have no intentions of lingering in the locality and prepare to head off into North Wales to continue taking measurements for their maps. The locals, however, will have none of it, and proceed to sabotage their every means of escape.

    Reverend Jones and Morgan the Goat, previously arch-enemies for their conflicting sense of morals, join forces in order to lead the villagers in their efforts to build the mountain and befuddle the naive out-of-towners. Williams the Petroleum, the local gas station owner, even pretends to be a trained mechanic and pulls apart the motor of their jeep, while the reverend punctures their tires…..just to be sure!

   More raucous antics ensue when the charming and curvaceous Betty is drafted by Morgan to woo Reginald Ansen and keep him and his partner in town until the job is complete. But when torrential storm threatens to destroy the earthen mound on the hill, one of the young townsmen called “Johnny Shellshock” Jones because of experiences fighting in the trenches has a panic attack while trying to a lay a tarp over the dirt.

    Unexpectedly, the young English cartographer reveals his compassion and skill by helping to care for Johnny during his fit. He later reveals that he had suffered shell-shock after serving overseas himself, explaining his knowledge of how to treat shock victims and his hesitant stammer. Betty is impressed by his kindness as well as the way he covers her reputation when it is questioned by Johnny's sister Blod, and a real romance begins to blossom between the two, making Ansen more sympathetic to the locals' plight.

    With time running out and George Garrad insisting that they must be on their way, Morgan the Goat is determined to convince Reverend Jones to allow the townspeople to continue building on Sunday. The good reverend will have none of his excuses for Sabbath-breaking, until he flips open his Bible to a verse exhorting the reader to “worship The Lord on his Holy Hill”. Taking this a sign from above, he uses his sermon to encourage the people to finish raising the mountain in honor of their loved ones fighting overseas.

   Circumstances seem to be on the side of the people as they carry dirt up the hill with buckets, wheelbarrows, and coal cars, digging up a would-be golf course for more earth, adding it to their mound, and then padding it down with moss. Also, Reginald Ansen joins in the effort to finish before sunset so it will still be light enough for him to measure the Ffynnon Garw again. But when Reverend Jones collapses from a heart attack, it seems as if all hope of completing the project in time is lost. That is, until Betty comes up with a solution to keep Ansen on the “mountain” until morning.

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain is a small yet intimate production with one of the longest titles in cinematic history. This is an appropriate paradox for a film that applauds the mammoth importance of home-spun values and plain hard work. Acting is direct and believable, scenery is lovely, and the Celtic music score is rousing as we watch the throngs of bucket-toting villagers marching uphill to build their mountain.  

   I enjoyed this comedy because it not only made me laugh but it also typified a fierce pride in locality and community that defines Britishness as much as it transcends nationality. The ongoing scheming of the Welsh villagers to keep the Englishmen in town is hilarious, and the “girl-meets-boy” sub-plot is an unexpectedly sweet touch. Hugh Grant is lovable as the shy and sensitive young Englishman who finds himself at home in simple country surroundings, and Tara Fitzgerald adds the right spice to the romantic stew. The chemistry is perfect.

    For the most part, this is a pretty clean film done in good taste, aside from a bit of naughty humor involving Morgan the Goat and his less than upstanding activities with Betty and the other girls from town. I don’t think it was necessary to make it as though he has had flings with virtually every female in town just to get across his own womanizing tendencies. It certainly brings Betty down in my view, who is evidently paid for her “services” by Morgan! Happily, she does eventually get things straightened out and chooses to marry the “gentleman” instead of being used by the “animal” when all is said and done.

    But these situations do serve to heighten the tension between Morgan the Goat and Reverend Mr. Jones, whose joint leadership of operations brings their similarities and differences to the fore. Jones is a wonderfully feisty character who stands out as an eccentric and devoted spiritual shepherd of his little flock and adds a religious girding to the plotline. His inspiration to “worship on the hill of the Lord” and turn Ffynnon Garw into a monument for all the members of the community who fought and died far from home and something for the survivors to come back to makes one want to let out a cheer for the indomitable spirit of Cymru!

    Morgan, on the other hand, matches Jones’ spunk and determination, proving to be an expert schemer in time of crisis. He is the main orchestrator of the mayhem and even gets the reverend directly involved in the capers, including puncturing tires whilst muttering “Lord forgive me; I don’t know what I’m doing!” and singing “Cwm Rhondda” under his breath! Morgan also succeeds in and keeping the people from backing down from their individual missions by demanding, “You don’t want them to say it all failed because of you?” As Betty accurately accesses, turning a hill into a mountain is just the sort of thing that happens when Morgan gets “a bee in his bonnet”.

    Over the course of the film, the quirky relationship between Morgan and Rev. Jones gradually changes from one of mutual contempt to grudging respect as they unite to uphold the honor of their beloved town. This is brought to fruition in a touching moment when Jones collapses on the hill and calls Morgan over to his side, saying “I know I can trust you”. He then tells him that his final request is to be buried in the mound on the mountain which must be consecrated by another cleric as soon as possible. After Jones’ passing, Morgan sees that all this is done, even though it prevents the mountain from being built before the sun sets.

    The funeral is preached from atop the mount as the last light fades over the horizon and torches are lit by the people standing in a circle around it, singing a mournful Welsh hymn. Afterwards, when one of the townsmen reflects on their failure to finish the mountain in time, he mutters dismally, “If it wasn’t for the reverend….” Morgan promptly shoots back, “If it wasn’t for the reverend, none of us would have been here to begin with.” His loyalty is rewarded when Betty manages to convince Ansen to spend the night on the mountain to measure the new height at dawn, under the condition that she will stay there as well “to keep him company”. They are next seen standing on top of their mountain, kissing. The next morning, Ansen comes down Ffynnon Garw with the new measurements and the news that he and Betty are now engaged. They are heralded by the town band playing the triumphant “Men of Harlech”.

    Some people would say that the film spent too much time "doing nothing", but I disagree. The easy pace and home-spun simplicity are really what this production is all about. The moral of the story is that what might looks like "nothing" to sophisticated brains who have reasoned themselves out of reason is actually a tremendous "something" to those who have enough common sense to recognize it. True-hearted, straight-speaking folk will always know more about the truly important things in life than the conceited "men of the world", and this historically-based comedy, which I watch almost annually, does a marvelous job demonstrating this reality.

  

   

Betty (Tara Fitzgerald) and Reginald Ansen (Hugh Grant) ascend Ffynnon Garw

The Robe

Year:  1953

Filming:  Color

Length:  135 minutes

Genre:  Biblical/Drama/ Inspirational/Religious

Maturity:  PG (for intense thematic elements)

Cast:  Richard Burton (Marcellus Gallio), Jean Simmons (Diana), Victor Mature (Demetrius), Michael Rennie (Peter), Jay Robinson (Caligula), Torin Thatcher (Sen. Gallio), Dean Jaggar (Justus), Jeff Morrow (Paulus)

Director:  Henry Koster

Personal Rating:  5 Stars

***

    Out of all the classic Biblical films I’ve watched and enjoyed, The Robe continues to rank at the top of my list. While it may have dated connotations and historical foibles intermixed within, it manages to powerfully convey the story of Christ’s Passion and the struggles of the early Christian Church. It also brings to life the individual personal histories and spiritual quests of the fictional characters that prove to be entertaining, romantic, and gripping in the tradition of other movie standards in and “sword-and-sandal” genre such as Ben-Hur and Quo Vadis.

    Richard Burton stars as Marcellus Gallio, a young Roman tribune with a taste for strong wine and shapely woman. While his father battles the encroachment of the imperial prerogative on the floor of the Senate, Marcellus strikes up a private rivalry with Caligula, the narcissistic heir to the imperial throne. This reaches its climax when Marcellus dares to outbid him at a slave market, securing possession of a fiery Greek captive named Demetrius. As a punishment for this impertinence, the young soldier is transferred to the back-water province of Judea. 

    Although Diana, his long-suffering childhood sweetheart, promises to use her influence at the court to have Marcellus brought home, he is discouraged and embittered by this sudden downward turn in his fortunes. His father encourages him to “be a man”, but everyone knows the transfer from Caligula is meant to be a death sentence. Marcellus decides to take Demetrius as his personal slave for his tour of duty in the Middle East, and although he extends the hand of friendship to him, the Greek declares that a man can never be a friend when he is also a slave, and he will only do his duty as far as he must. 

             

     In Jerusalem, Marcellus is put under the command of the brave yet sadistic Centurion Paulus, who is jealous of the young man’s noble birth and connections with the emperor. It is the Jewish feast of the Passover, and rumors are circulating that a young carpenter from Nazareth may be hailed as the Messiah come to overthrow the Roman regime. When he makes a triumphant arrival in the city, Demetrius makes eye contact with him as he rides by on a donkey, and is touched to the core.

     Several days later, Marcellus’s unit is assigned to carry out the crucifixion of three "criminals" - one of them being Jesus Christ. Beneath the cross, he takes part in a dice game and wins the Nazarene’s robe. As he descends Mount Cavalry, an eerie storm blows up and he finds himself strangely possessed by the robe when it is flung on him to protect him from the rain. Demetrius, furious with his master for having put Christ to death, steals the homespun garment and runs away with it.  

     Marcellus returns to Rome a broken man teetering on the brink of insanity. Diana and the Emperor Tiberius convince him that he has been bewitched by Christ's robe and that he must find and destroy it in order to free himself from the enchantment. Desperate to restore his senses, Marcellus returns to Judea and tracks Demetrius down to the town of Canaan, where he touched by the kindness of Justus, a simple weaver, and Miriam, a crippled girl with a beautiful voice, who both insist that Jesus has risen from the dead.

    He is terrified at this assertion, yet still continues his obsessive quest to locate his runaway slave and burn the robe. But when they finally come face to face in an inn, Marcellus realizes that he cannot destroy the robe, and Demetrius helps him to realize that it is not the cloth that has “bewitched” him, but rather his own conscious. After meeting Peter the Apostle and having a sword-clanging show-down with Paulus, Marcellus finally confesses his sins to “The Big Fisherman” and enlists himself in the Christian cause.

     Several years later, he finds himself back in Rome with Demetrius and Peter where he is finally reunited with Diana. Long accused by the new emperor Caligula of desertion and treason for his embrace of Christianity and disappearance, she is initially disturbed by his newfound faith that threatens to tear them apart. His father also considers him a traitor and disowns him. But when Marcellus is captured by the authorities trying to help Demetrius escape them, he is put to the ultimate test of his convictions on trial before Caligula where he must defend his Savior or die trying.

   The Robe was the first film to be shot in Technicolor, and the brilliance of the visuals made it a perfect choice to break in the new method. The quality of the sets and costumes is excellent, as is the music score, especially the love theme. As far as acting, Richard Burton electrifies the film with verve and passion, bringing to life a man at war with himself. Jean Simmons as Diana, the beautiful and gracious daughter of nobility, contrasts vividly with her lover in her steadiness and calm. But both will prove their long-suffering perseverance to each other and ultimately the faith they come to embrace. Jay Robinson as Caligula also makes a deliciously deranged baddie of the same variety as Peter Ustinov’s portrayal of Nero in Quo Vadis. 

    This film, like Ben-Hur, never shows Christ’s face. Instead, we are made to focus more intently on the expressions of those who see Him, such as Demetrius as watches the Palm Sunday procession to Jerusalem pass by. The Passion is portrayed in a haunting yet non-graphic way, again focusing more on the reactions of the people participating in the event without wallowing in visual blood and gore. I found it interesting how Pontius Pilate is shown repeatedly asking for water to wash his hands, as if he realizes he will never be able to cleanse himself of his crime. Also, Marcellus is shown compulsively rubbing his hand after Christ's blood splattered on it.

    Another aspect of the film I find appealing is the way Marcellus doesn’t “lose himself” when he converts. He remains a loyal Roman and a fighting man. Where some films make it seem as if the Early Christians ascribed to a Quaker-like non-violence, we get to see some terrific sword-play before and after Marcellus’s transformation. Actually, the duel between Marcellus and Paulus would probably make it to a list of my favorite top 10 duels in movie-land, complete with a flying pot that gets smashed to smithereens by swinging metal! I must admit, though, that I find it hard to imagine Paulus just letting things lie after being beat in a sword fight in front of all of his men, even if Marcellus did magnanimously spare his life! I guess he was more honorable than any of us thought…?

      As with all films of this type, there are some foibles. For example it is indicated that the Romans were the ones who were determined to capture Jesus, whereas the Gospel describes the Jewish Pharisees as being the ones who orchestrated the arrest and then brought Him to the Roman authorities in order to pass a death sentence. Also, they make it seem as if Judas reported to the Romans instead of the Sanhedrin.

    One must wonder if this was an early effort to take away the blame from the Jewish people, especially in the wake of the Holocaust in the 1940’s. I’m sure they were full of good intentions in doing so; after all, the truth of the matter is that we all had a fair share in the death of Christ for our sins. But that doesn’t mean we have to rewrite history when it was in fact the Jewish Sanhedrin who had the most to fear from Christ and did desire his death “for the sake of the people”.

    Also, Emperor Tiberius is shown as being something of peach in comparison with the perverted Caligula, but in reality he was quite brutal and tyrannical in his own right. However, I suppose it could be said that he is just showing favoritism to the son of an “old army buddy”, even that that same “buddy” seems pretty intent on opposing the extension of imperial powers in the Senate.

    It might be validly brought up that Marcellus’s conversation seems rather sudden, but there is quite a lot of emotional turmoil beforehand and sometimes conversations do transpire through a sudden epiphany. Through the example of others, the Christian philosophy of life and his own potential to be forgiven clicked in his mind and changed his heart. This whole transformation reaches its climax in his trial before the imperial court, which strongly reminds me of Thomas More’s trial in A Man for All Seasons. His kneeling to reconfirm his allegiance to Rome but standing up when asked to deny Christ is very nicely done, and the twist at the end

involving Diana’s own sacrifice to join her chosen husband is especially powerful.

    I have read reviews from a host of “educated” personages declaiming this film as “prissy” or “cheesy” or in desperate need of a remake. Even Richard Burton was said to have been less than thrilled with the role. But the cynicism behind such remarks is distasteful, in my opinion. What exactly is “prissy” about a story of conversion and encounter with Christ? What’s “cheesy” about someone dying for their faith or being willing to face torture for a loved one? Is it simply because the story is very religious and assumes the audience has some level of affinity with religious belief as well? Is it because we don’t see excessive blood-and-guts or sizzling sex scenes? Is that why we need a remake? While it may have an occasional hokey line or incongruent historical connotation common to post-war American Biblical flicks, it remains a cinematic classic with serious clout.

    To me, The Robe and its message transcend time, and each year at Eastertide it gives fresh inspiration to better myself and carry my cross more faithfully. Marcellus's long spiritual journey is one that should be related to by everyone, since we are all in part responsible for the crucifixion of Christ and in need of His saving power. Although the Roman tribune starts out as a cocky young man used to a gourmet lifestyle, his travels shatter his protective bubble and expose him to a world of cruelty and injustice. 

    This causes him to seek out the ultimate treasure, even though half the time he doesn't know what he is searching for. It takes the humility and faithfulness of those he encounters to help him find his way. Like them, it is our mission as Christ-followers to bear true witness for Our Savior in word and deed, realizing that each act we perform with love can make all the difference to someone searching for the truth.

Marcellus (Richard Burton) and Diana (Jean Simmons) are condemned by Caligula