Black & White World

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

I’m surprised to discover I’ve never really reviewed The Best Years of Our Lives on this site before, except just a few sentences, a short paragraph, in what was apparently my most recent viewing way back in November 2004.  I always like to check on what I’ve written in the past so that I don’t end up repeating myself, but there’s not much to repeat in this case.

For a film that was so very representative of its time, it’s really quite surprising how well The Best Years of Our Lives holds up after sixty years.  At the time, it was very topical and fresh—an entire nation, quite literally, learning how to live again in peace time after five years at war.  Today, it’s an historical document, a time capsule of post-war America.

If I have a criticism of the movie at all, it’s that, despite its length, there are so many more avenues I wish they had explored.  There’s just one scene between Fredric March’s character and his young son—his son is 16, maybe 17.  That would put him at 12 or 13 when Dad went off to war, and a LOT changes in those years; Al clearly has no idea who his son is anymore.  His son has been learning at school that the Japanese people have rich traditions rooted in honor; Al only knows them as “savages” that he fought against in a brutal war.  It’s something I wish I could have seen more of.  On the other hand, I can’t think of anything I would cut in order to make room for that.

When I was younger, and It’s a Wonderful Life was my favorite movie, I used to be really annoyed that Best Years of Our Lives won the 1946 Best Picture.  I’ve realized, though, that the Academy really made the right choice here.

1. And what happens to the son after he goes to school that day?  HE’S NEVER SEEN AGAIN. Got Chuck Cunningham’d right out of the picture.

   Posted by  on  07/07  at  08:08 AM
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