Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are only recently starting to get the attention they deserve. This was the first of their pictures I saw and it's still my favourite (just ahead of The Red Shoes). Like so many of their collaborations The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is not only brilliantly crafted and entertaining but is also a highly inventive piece of cinema that was well ahead of its time.
The subtext alone of Colonel Blimp itself was pushing the envelope considerably. Made during World War Two, it can be considered a propaganda film albeit a very irregular one. Rather than simply making a gung ho morale booster Powell and Pressburger made the unprecedented move of criticising the tactics of their own side, and presenting a more realistic approach to the war. Colonel Blimp makes two arguably valid but politically dangerous points. The first the main theme of the picture was to say that the officer elite has an old-fashioned outlook, and views war as a kind of gentleman's game with rules and honour. The second, perhaps even more daring aspect was by having a sympathetic German character pointing out that, regardless of nazi policy, the German people themselves were not automatically villains. In fact, even distinguishing between "nazi" and "German" was pretty unusual for a film of this period. None of this has the same impact on a modern audience, but the film is still captivating today thanks to its engaging storyline and Michael Powell's skillful direction.
To understand how far ahead of its time this film is, you have to remember that cinema at the time was populated by stereotypes and stock characters. Heroes had to be instantly likable and villains had to be detestable. In Wynne-Candy you get a character who was unlikely to have got a film to himself, and would not have been a likable character had he appeared in a smaller role. But the Life and Death of Colonel Blimp takes you on his journey, humanises the character and makes him sympathetic. In it's uncut form (roughly 160 minutes) it's a long runner for its time, and it needs to be to really draw you in and make you feel like you have lived a part of his life. And what makes all this more incredible is that the message of the film is to rubbish his outlook and say his kind are on the way out.
Colonel Blimp also stands out from the crowd on a purely technical level. Powell was one of the first directors to really work well in colour. Here, rather than overusing the technology and filling the screen with blaring shades, he uses subtle and sombre tones. Paradoxically he often composes shots with mostly blacks, whites and greys. The World War One scenes for example almost look like monochrome, allowing for a greater impact in the first scene after the armistice showing brightly coloured threads on an industrial loom. There's also a bit of typical Powell and Pressburger cinematic self-reference here, as the threads are red, blue and green, the same colours used in the three-strip Technicolor process.
And then there is the handling of emotions. In general the most tear-inducing moments in cinema are accompanied by some stirring music, but with Michael Powell it's the opposite he pauses all other sounds and allows the characters to do the work alone. In the scene where Theo as an old man is explaining himself to be allowed to stay in the UK, the set is busy and there is plenty of background noise from the traffic outside. When he gets to the point of explaining how his wife died and his sons disowned him, the camera slowly closes in on him and importantly, that background noise disappears. All that is left is Anton Walbrook's performance. It makes for an incredibly poignant moment. Colonel Blimp is rarely particularly sad, but it's one of the most emotionally involving films I've ever seen.
Of course, even the greatest director/screenwriter partnership can't produce a great film without the right cast and crew. Powell rarely cast big names, neither Hollywood stars or the British theatrical elite. Roger Livesy and Anton Walbrook while not complete unknowns were certainly obscure and rarely cast as leads, but the point is that they are simply the most perfect matches for those characters. It was also a daring move casting newcomer Deborah Kerr in a large part (or, in fact, three parts), but she does a fine job and rightly went on to become a major star. There's also a lovely score from Allan Grey.
I guess I should apologise now for all this gushing praise, but Colonel Blimp really is a masterpiece on every level. Unfortunately, due to the bold political points it made, it was more or less buried upon initial release, was only available in a drastically shortened version until the 1980s, and as such never really got the recognition it deserved.
The subtext alone of Colonel Blimp itself was pushing the envelope considerably. Made during World War Two, it can be considered a propaganda film albeit a very irregular one. Rather than simply making a gung ho morale booster Powell and Pressburger made the unprecedented move of criticising the tactics of their own side, and presenting a more realistic approach to the war. Colonel Blimp makes two arguably valid but politically dangerous points. The first the main theme of the picture was to say that the officer elite has an old-fashioned outlook, and views war as a kind of gentleman's game with rules and honour. The second, perhaps even more daring aspect was by having a sympathetic German character pointing out that, regardless of nazi policy, the German people themselves were not automatically villains. In fact, even distinguishing between "nazi" and "German" was pretty unusual for a film of this period. None of this has the same impact on a modern audience, but the film is still captivating today thanks to its engaging storyline and Michael Powell's skillful direction.
To understand how far ahead of its time this film is, you have to remember that cinema at the time was populated by stereotypes and stock characters. Heroes had to be instantly likable and villains had to be detestable. In Wynne-Candy you get a character who was unlikely to have got a film to himself, and would not have been a likable character had he appeared in a smaller role. But the Life and Death of Colonel Blimp takes you on his journey, humanises the character and makes him sympathetic. In it's uncut form (roughly 160 minutes) it's a long runner for its time, and it needs to be to really draw you in and make you feel like you have lived a part of his life. And what makes all this more incredible is that the message of the film is to rubbish his outlook and say his kind are on the way out.
Colonel Blimp also stands out from the crowd on a purely technical level. Powell was one of the first directors to really work well in colour. Here, rather than overusing the technology and filling the screen with blaring shades, he uses subtle and sombre tones. Paradoxically he often composes shots with mostly blacks, whites and greys. The World War One scenes for example almost look like monochrome, allowing for a greater impact in the first scene after the armistice showing brightly coloured threads on an industrial loom. There's also a bit of typical Powell and Pressburger cinematic self-reference here, as the threads are red, blue and green, the same colours used in the three-strip Technicolor process.
And then there is the handling of emotions. In general the most tear-inducing moments in cinema are accompanied by some stirring music, but with Michael Powell it's the opposite he pauses all other sounds and allows the characters to do the work alone. In the scene where Theo as an old man is explaining himself to be allowed to stay in the UK, the set is busy and there is plenty of background noise from the traffic outside. When he gets to the point of explaining how his wife died and his sons disowned him, the camera slowly closes in on him and importantly, that background noise disappears. All that is left is Anton Walbrook's performance. It makes for an incredibly poignant moment. Colonel Blimp is rarely particularly sad, but it's one of the most emotionally involving films I've ever seen.
Of course, even the greatest director/screenwriter partnership can't produce a great film without the right cast and crew. Powell rarely cast big names, neither Hollywood stars or the British theatrical elite. Roger Livesy and Anton Walbrook while not complete unknowns were certainly obscure and rarely cast as leads, but the point is that they are simply the most perfect matches for those characters. It was also a daring move casting newcomer Deborah Kerr in a large part (or, in fact, three parts), but she does a fine job and rightly went on to become a major star. There's also a lovely score from Allan Grey.
I guess I should apologise now for all this gushing praise, but Colonel Blimp really is a masterpiece on every level. Unfortunately, due to the bold political points it made, it was more or less buried upon initial release, was only available in a drastically shortened version until the 1980s, and as such never really got the recognition it deserved.