On September 1st, 1939, the city of Warsaw, Poland was attacked by German warplanes in what became known as the Siege of Warsaw, historically considered the start of World War II. Two days later, American photographer Julien Bryan arrived to document the ongoing attacks. Filmed over the following two weeks, “Siege” is a first hand account of Warsaw’s citizens fighting back against the Nazis. Unlike other, in this film’s parlance, “meager censored news reports” of the time, “Siege” doesn’t sugarcoat the uphill battle faced by Warsaw, as fires and air strikes destroy the city and claim the lives of 18,000 civilians.
Having recently completed the marathon that was “Why We Fight”, I was trepidatious about watching another WWII film. Thankfully, “Siege” was a unique enough viewing experience, and much, much shorter. Because “Why We Fight” has to cover so much ground (and has an obvious American bias), several major events of the war can only be touched upon briefly. “Siege” gives us an on-the-ground account of the war’s first two weeks, told entirely from the perspective of the civilians who suffered the first of this war’s many casualties. “Siege” is lightning in a bottle documentation from a then-neutral country, and it is this compassionate yet unflinching perspective from Julien Bryan that makes “Siege” a noteworthy American film.
Why It Matters: The NFR hails the film as “a unique, horrifying record of the dreadful brutality of war” and includes a link to the film via the US Holocaust Memorial Museum’s YouTube page.
Everybody Gets One: Following a stint as an ambulance driver in WWI and attending the Union Theological Seminary in New York, Julian Bryan chose not to become ordained, opting instead to travel the world, documenting his journeys through written travelogues, photographs, and of course film. Most of his travels in the 1930s chronicled the rise of Nazism in Germany (some of Bryan’s footage of Nazi Germany was featured in fellow NFR entry “The March of Time: Inside Nazi Germany”). Bryan happened to be traveling to Warsaw via train in early September 1939 when he learned the city had been invaded. Upon his arrival, Bryan contacted the mayor of Warsaw and received a permit to document the city mid-attacks with his Leica still camera and his Bell & Howell movie camera.
Seriously, Oscars?: “Siege” received an Oscar nomination for Short Subject (One-Reel), losing to “Quicker ’n a Wink”, which comically chronicled MIT’s experiments with stroboscopic photography. Look no further for proof of America’s disinterest in the war than the Academy voting for “Ooh, shiny!”
Other notes
As is often the case with NFR films chronicling massive destruction of any kind, I don’t have much else to say about “Siege”. The film’s imagery of a city on fire and citizens crying over the dead bodies of their loved ones says more than I ever could. I can only nod in agreement with Bryan’s final words within the film, “May God have mercy on them.”
Legacy
Upon his return to the United States, Julien Bryan published several of his photographs of the Siege in both Life and Look Magazine. He also wrote a corresponding book (also called “Siege”) and sold his ten-minute film to RKO for distribution across their theaters.
Following the release of “Siege”, Julien Bryan made several shorts for the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs, primarily about Latin American cultures. After the war, Bryan created the International Film Foundation and continued making documentary shorts for the rest of his career. Julian Bryan died in 1974, a few months after receiving a Decoration of Honor from Poland for documenting the Invasion of Poland.
In 2003, Bryan’s son Sam donated his father’s wartime photos and film to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Their inclusion in the museum’s film archive no doubt caught the eye of the National Film Preservation Board, with “Siege” making the NFR three years later.
The Plot: When we think of deserts, we think arid environments devoid of life, but thanks to Disney’s “True-Life Adventures” series, there’s more than meets the eye in “The Living Desert”. Our story takes place across the many deserts of Arizona (Painted, Sonoran, Chihuahuan, etc.) as we witness the survival tactics of the region’s many animals and insects, from the largest bobcats to the smallest millipedes. Is a lot of this movie staged for the camera? Yes. Is the narration hokey at times? Oh yeah. Is the film an exciting and fascinating glimpse into our own world? …Kinda.
Why It Matters: The NFR gives some historical background and praises the sequence of a rattlesnake fighting a tarantula, but also criticizes the narration’s “weak attempts at humor”. An essay by the film’s cinematographer N. Paul Kentworthy Jr. recounts his experience making the film.
But Does It Really?: As much as I love when a Disney movie makes the NFR, I’m confused as to why “The Living Desert” got the nod. While the “True-Life Adventures” series was popular in its time, I wouldn’t call it an NFR essential. And if you’re going to induct one of the “True-Life Adventures”, why not “White Wilderness”, the only one with any cultural impact (more on that one in “Legacy”)? Once I learned that “The Living Desert” has a UCLA connection via N. Paul Kentworthy Jr., this selection started to make more sense. The NFR loves a UCLA connection; be it films made by its students or preserved by their archives. Heck, I think the mere mention of UCLA bumps up your chances of NFR induction (which bodes well for me, frequent UCLA mentioner and co-director of the short film “Test Room D”). Tangent aside, “The Living Desert” is a pleasant enough documentary, though it’s the most naked proof that you can take any footage and manipulate a narrative through editing and music. I’ll give “The Living Desert” a pass as the forefather to the modern nature documentary, but even that’s a generous compromise.
Everybody Gets One: As part of his MA thesis requirement at UCLA, N. Paul Kentworthy Jr. filmed a fight between a wasp and a tarantula, editing the footage into a narrative short with the intention of showing it as a “calling card” to potential employers. Kentworthy submitted his film to the team at Disney’s “True-Life Adventures” series, and an enthusiastic screening with Walt led to the film being bought by Disney, and Kentworthy being hired to film a few lighter sequences to make it feature length. Subsequently, because Disney now owned the footage exclusively, Kentworthy’s thesis quickly became a lengthy essay on the technical experience of making the film rather than the film itself.
Seriously, Oscars?: “The Living Desert” won the Oscar for Best Documentary (Feature), with the trophy going to its producer, Walt Disney. Throughout the ceremony, Disney also won the Oscars for Documentary (Short-Subject), Short Subject (Two-Reel), and Short Subject (Cartoon), making him the first person to receive four Oscars at the same ceremony. This remained a singular feat in Oscar history until 71 years later when Sean Baker won four Oscars for producing, directing, writing, and editing “Anora”.
Other notes
In the late 1940s, Walt Disney Productions was still recovering financially from the effects of World War II, and Walt, still smarting from the 1941 animators strike, was looking into live-action films as a feasible alternative. Inspired by a documentary from filmmaking couple Alfred and Elma Milotte, Walt commissioned the Milottes to film the people and nature of Alaska, ultimately crafting a narrative from their footage of seals in the Pribilof Islands for the first in a proposed “True-Life Adventures” series. The result was 1948’s “Seal Island”, which proved to be a surprise hit and won Disney the Oscar for Short Subject (Two-Reel).
The creative team behind the “True-Life Adventures” was a consistent group of Disney regulars. Both director/co-writer James Algar and producer Ben Sharpsteen started at Disney as animators and quickly rose the ranks to directing animated features before pivoting to the “True-Life Adventures”. Co-writer/narrator Winston Hibler joined the studio in the 1940s as a camera operator and dabbled in the occasional songwriting before finding his niche with the “True-Life” series. Because of Academy rules at the time, only Walt Disney (and eventually Ben Sharpsteen) took home any of the series’ eight Oscars, with James Algar occasionally accepting on behalf of the absent winner. For their contribution to the “True-Life Adventures” series, Algar, Sharpsteen, and Hibler would be inducted as Disney Legends in the 1990s.
“The Living Desert” was the eighth overall film in the “True-Life Adventures” series, and its first feature. “Living Desert” is also noteworthy for being the first Disney film released through their in-house distribution company, Buena Vista Distribution. Prior to 1953, Disney had distribution deals with several of the larger Hollywood studios, but following some disagreements with RKO (its distribution partner since 1937), and finding themselves in a better financial situation, Disney ended their contract with RKO and started distributing their own films. Buena Vista gets its name from the street the Disney studios are located at in Burbank, California.
“Living Desert” begins with an overview of the southwest landscape: shots of Mt. Whitney, Death Valley, and Monument Valley in possibly its only non-Western appearance on the NFR. We zoom in on California’s Salton Sea, and our first hint that this is more “edutainment” than a proper documentary, as the score matches the action of the bubbling mud pots. Disney in-house composer Paul J. Smith created the score, which appropriately enough has a decent amount of “Mickey Mousing” to it.
As we zero in on the various animal life in the desert, we are introduced to our featured players, including the red-tailed hawk and the tarantula. The latter’s introduction is the first instance of the narration getting a little too cutesy: “At the residence of Mrs. Tarantula, it’s always open house. She’s forever cleaning her parlor for guests that might drop by for dinner. Uh, her dinner of course.”
Another too-cute-for-its-own-good sequence centers around a battle between two male tortoises over a potential mate, with our hero using his skid to turn his rival on their shell. This victory incites the first true groaner in the narration: “Finally, it’s tortoise turned turtle.” Stop that!
Speaking of the narrator, Winston Hibler is warm and knowledgeable, but he’s no David Attenborough. Overall, the film is informative to be sure, but the lessened entertainment value makes it all slightly dull. This is not necessarily the film’s fault; nature footage like this was a rarity in 1953, but now you can see it on streaming any time you want.
Most of the film chronicles the survival habits of the various animals, plus several matchups: Peccary vs. Bobcat, Rattlesnake vs. Pocket Mouse, etc. This section also gives us the “Rattlesnake vs. Tarantula” sequence that the NFR deemed a highlight, and frankly I’m not seeing it. The fight is brief and unsatisfying, concluding with the narrator declaring “it’s a standoff, and nobody wins.” I’m beginning to think “The Living Desert” was at the bottom of the NFR’s Class of 2000 picks.
As nightfall approaches the desert, we get what I assume are primarily in-studio shots. Most of the original Kentworthy footage was shot on a mockup desert set in a Tucson studio owned by animal expert Robert Crandall. This explains how Kentworthy achieved some shots that would be near-impossible with ‘50s camera technology (such as the shots inside the kangaroo rat holes). For the Disney sanctioned reshoots, a larger studio was used, with individual shots pre-planned so they could be edited into a narrative in post-production.
Nighttime is also this movie’s insect section, with centipedes, millipedes, and all kinds of gross things. We also get a romantic tarantula courtship scene, and the film’s most manipulative sequence: a scorpion mating scene turned square dance. You can sense the footage being toggled back and forth to imply choreography as the narrator sings a mock hoedown. More like a do-si-don’t if you ask me.
As the sun quickly rises via timelapse photography, the film takes another cutesy turn with several animals imbued with more character and personality. There’s Old Nosy Parker the roadrunner (its name easily being the film’s most obscure reference), Sweet William the spotted skunk, and Skinny the ground squirrel. I assume that Disney wanted to do a Skinny spin-off because they are definitely trying to make him a thing, giving him a standalone storyline as the little runt who saves the day. He’s even got his own theme music!
After the disappointing tarantula vs. rattlesnake bout, the film climaxes with two much more entertaining matchups. First up, the tarantula takes on the Pepsis wasp, the original Kentworthy footage that started this whole thing. The segment has a cleaner set-up to what’s at stake, leading to a more engaging fight. This is followed by a very intense battle between the rattlesnake and the red-tailed hawk.
After all this fighting, the film wraps up neatly with rainfall in the desert, followed by flash floods which dissipate into the dirt, becoming the liquid mud from the beginning of the film. We conclude with some suggestive footage of flowers blooming and our narrator telling us we have witnessed a mere fragment of the desert’s “eternal story”. And by “eternal” I’m sure they mean until we humans fuck it up beyond repair, but that’s another story.
Legacy
“The Living Desert” was released in November 1953 on a bill with two Disney shorts: the live action “Stormy, the Thoroughbred” and the animated “Ben and Me”. Despite some critical misgivings about the editing and narration, “The Living Desert” was a box office success. Footage from “The Living Desert” would appear on many an episode of Disney’s TV anthology series for years to come.
Six more “True-Life” features were released after “The Living Desert”, and the series concluded with 1960’s “Jungle Cat” about the jaguars of Brazil. If you know any film in this series, it’s 1958’s “White Wilderness”, which staged a scene of Canadian lemmings following each other off a cliff, leading to the urban legend that lemmings participate in mass-suicide. The staged aspect of this story didn’t come to light until the 1980s, and Disney has always attested that freelance filmmaker James R. Simon staged the lemming scenes without the approval or input of Disney. That’s their story and they’re sticking to it.
Written by Lawrence D. Cohen. Based on the novel by Stephen King.
Class of 2022
The Plot: Shy teenager Carrie White (Sissy Spacek) is frequently abused by both her high school classmates and her domineering, religious mother Margaret (Piper Laurie). When Carrie has her first period in the locker room, she is ridiculed by the other girls, and starts to experience what turns out to be telekinetic powers. Classmate Sue Snell (Amy Irving) regrets picking on Carrie and makes her boyfriend Tommy Ross (William Katt) take Carrie to the prom as an apology. Meanwhile fellow classmate Chris Hargensen (Nancy Allen), furious about being banned from the prom as punishment for teasing Carrie, plots with her boyfriend Billy Nolan (John Travolta) to get revenge on Carrie at the dance. Little do they know that Carrie is now in control of her newfound powers, and hell hath no fury like a prom date scorned.
Why It Matters: The NFR attributes the film’s success to Brian De Palma “mix[ing] up a stylish cauldron of horrific scenes” with Spacek’s “unforgettable performance”. Spacek is also quoted from a Library of Congress interview calling De Palma “a wonder to work with”.
But Does It Really?: When I started this blog in 2017, “Carrie” was one of the movies that made me say, “Wait, that isn’t on the NFR?” When it finally made the cut five years later, needless to say I had no objections. “Carrie” is a horror classic that has endured thanks to its eternal themes of isolation and social longing, its emphasis on character over frights, and for being really, really scary. De Palma’s inventive directing keeps things interesting to watch, as does the dedicated performances from the entire cast, whose grounded work balances out the supernatural elements. From its iconic prom sequence to its introduction of Stephen King, “Carrie” is a force to be reckoned with, and a no-brainer on this list of significant American films.
Shout Outs: A “Psycho” reference in a De Palma movie? Now I’ve seen everything.
Everybody Gets One: Originally at Columbia as a physics major, Brian De Palma was inspired to become a filmmaker after seeing “Citizen Kane” and “Vertigo”. After directing a few smaller films in New York (including some with a young Robert De Niro), De Palma moved to L.A. and made such films as the cult classic “Phantom of the Paradise” and “Obsession”, his full-blown love letter to Hitchcock. As of this writing, “Carrie” is somehow De Palma’s only movie on the NFR.
Wow, That’s Dated: “Carrie” displays its ‘70s-ness not through any pop culture or dated references, but rather through a partially synth score and some incredible hair styles (looking at you, William Katt’s perm).
Seriously, Oscars?: Despite the Academy’s long-standing aversion to horror movies, “Carrie” received two Oscar nominations for its main actresses. Both Sissy Spacek and Piper Laurie lost in their categories to the women of “Network”: Spacek losing Lead Actress to Faye Dunaway, and Laurie losing Supporting Actress to Beatrice Straight (but that’s another story).
Other notes
While working as an English teacher in the early 1970s, Stephen King took on a friend’s suggestion to write a short story with a female protagonist. Initially unhappy with the first few pages, King threw his “Carrie” manuscript into the trash, only for his wife Tabitha to recover the pages and encourage him to keep going. “Carrie” was King’s first published novel and upon its publication was a modest hit, gaining traction upon its paperback release. Among its early readers was Brian De Palma, who made it known to studios considering a film adaptation that he wanted to direct. After initial consideration by 20th Century Fox, United Artists bought the film rights, paying King a mere $2500 (which he was happy to get) and giving De Palma the low budget of $1.6 million. “Carrie” was the first film adaptation of Stephen King’s writing.
Sissy Spacek was initially not in the running for Carrie White, but her husband Jack Fisk (the film’s art director) convinced De Palma to let her audition. Like so many great movies performances, you can’t imagine anyone other than Sissy Spacek playing that part. The only problem is that the character of Carrie is so demure that she keeps getting sidelined in her own movie by the louder, showier supporting characters.
The first shot of Carrie losing a volleyball game is a perfect introduction to the character, evoking immediate and appropriate sympathy. Things, however, take a weird turn in the opening credits, with a melancholy score playing over slow-motion footage of nude and topless teenage girls in the locker room (What male gaze?). The film shifts gears again with the borderline-traumatic shower scene, where Carrie has her first period and first demonstration of her telekinesis. It’s a lot to take in within the first five minutes, but it’s unsettling in a good way, keeping you on edge for the rest of the movie.
In a recurring ‘70s trend, no one playing a high schooler in “Carrie” was an actual teenager during production. Sissy Spacek was 27, and the rest of the cast ranged from 22 (John Travolta) to 31 (Edie McClurg). Adding to this confusion is 29-year-old Betty Buckley as Coach Collins. For the most part it’s not too distracting, though as Norma, P.J. Soles is utilizing a precursor to the “Ponytail Stratagem” known as the “Baseball Cap Commutation”.
After 1961’s “The Hustler”, Piper Laure’s film offers dried up and she headed back to New York, working exclusively in theater and TV. Although Laurie didn’t like the script for “Carrie”, she was charmed by Brian De Palma and agreed to play Margaret assuming the movie was a black comedy. Her performance is definitely out there, but surprisingly never full-on camp, which given the material is a tough needle to thread.
For the record, the statuette in the prayer closet is of Saint Sebastian, not Jesus. Saint Sebastian was shot with multiple arrows in a persecution of Christians, and then later became the patron saint of archery, which is a little rude. It’s like making Jesus the patron saint of nails.
So far Carrie’s telekinetic powers include moving objects, blowing up light bulbs, and summoning Bernard Herrmann soundalike cues. Side Note: Herrmann had scored De Palma’s previous films “Sisters” and “Obsession” and was slated to score this movie before his untimely death in December 1975. Composer/songwriter Pino Donaggio took over scoring duties, the first of seven collaborations with De Palma.
Fun Fact: Brian De Palma held auditions for “Carrie” in a joint session with George Lucas for “Star Wars”, and it’s fun to think that all these actors were this close to being in one of the biggest blockbusters ever. Of the “Carrie” cast, I could see William Katt as Luke Skywalker in an alternate universe far, far away. On a related note, there is no truth to the rumor that Sissy Spacek and Carrie Fisher were originally cast in each other’s roles.
Nancy Allen does a good job keeping Chris a petty teenager without going into full-on “Mean Girls” mode. She’s also quite charming, which explains how she became Mrs. Brian De Palma a few years later. Playing her boyfriend is rising star John Travolta in full-on Vinnie Barbarino mode. Also, I won’t go into detail about what Chris is doing to Billy in their first scene together, but is she a ventriloquist?
Because this film’s most iconic moments are at the beginning and end, I always forget about the lengthy middle section of everyone preparing for the prom. It’s a lot of dialogue scenes, most of which don’t feature Carrie at all! Once Carrie is back in the picture, however, we do get a very satisfying scene of her using her powers to stand up to Margaret.
“I can see your dirty pillows” is an iconic line, but doesn’t it seem a bit out of character for Margaret?
Ah, ‘70s proms: live music, feathery hair, and all the ruffled tuxes you can feast your eyes on. We get some sweet moments throughout as we experience Carrie’s joy at her supposed acceptance into the popular groups. The film’s last pleasant sequence is Carrie and Tommy on the dance floor, filmed with the actors on a platform rotating in one direction with the camera revolving around them in the other direction. I get what De Palma was going for, but we need to stop the movie because I think I’m gonna –
And then Carrie is named Prom Queen in a rigged election, and your heart breaks as she obliviously takes her place on stage directly under a bucket of pig’s blood prepared by Chris. I spent most of the scene yelling at Carrie to move a few feet to her right. Well, the whole scene is in slow-motion, so it was more like “Moooooooooove Caaaaaaaarrrriiiieeeee”.
You know it’s coming, and you know it’s not going to be pretty, but Carrie’s revenge on the prom is gloriously unrestrained bedlam. It’s scary and gruesome (and with a higher body count than the novel) but because you have spent so much time with Carrie, there’s a sorrow underneath all this chaos. Side note: I love this scene’s use of split screen. Even the conventional rules of moviemaking go out the window in the fracas.
The final showdown between Carrie and Margaret is also wonderfully intense, with Margaret getting a great reveal as Carrie heads to the bathroom. Also is it me or does Margaret’s hair get puffier with each scene?
Everyone’s favorite bit of “Carrie” trivia: one shot in the final scene was filmed with Amy Irving walking backwards, with the footage being reversed to give her walk a dreamlike quality. It’s all well and good until you notice the cars driving backwards in the distance.
Legacy
“Carrie” was released in November 1976, and was an immediate financial and critical hit, quickly developing a cult standing. The success of the film helped boost sales of the original novel, solidifying King’s place as a popular horror novelist. As of this writing, Stephen King has published 65 novels and over 200 short stories. Many of these have film adaptations, two of which are in the NFR alongside “Carrie”: “The Shining” and “The Shawshank Redemption”. For the record, King likes the film version of “Carrie”, even considering its ending better than the one in his book.
Brian De Palma’s immediate follow-up to “Carrie” was “The Fury”, another movie featuring a high school girl with psychic powers. De Palma’s subsequent filmography includes “Blow Out”, “Scarface”, “The Untouchables”, and the first “Mission: Impossible” movie.
“The Fury” was one of many films in the wake of “Carrie” that involved children or teenagers with telepathic powers. Among them: “The Initiation of Sarah”, “Firestarter”, “Scanners”, and “Zapped!”, the latter being the only time a Scott Baio movie will ever be mentioned in connection with the NFR.
In the late 1990s, a horror film called “The Curse” was hastily re-written to work as a legacy sequel to “Carrie”, the result being the disastrous “The Rage: Carrie 2”. Only Amy Irving reprised her role from the original, and while she has since regretted her appearance, she admits the production paid her “a shitload of money”.
In addition to the sequel, there have been two subsequent film adaptations of the novel, both of which skew closer overall to the book, but then take some wild swings at the end that didn’t sit well with audiences or critics. Fingers crossed that the recently announced limited series adaptation by Mike Flanagan fares better. Speaking of unsuccessful adaptations…
A stage musical of “Carrie” opened on Broadway in 1988 and had a litany of artistic misfires and production woes, closing in three days and losing its entire $8 million investment. A re-written, scaled-down Off-Broadway revival in 2012 fixed some of the problems (emphasis on some) but remains in the shadow of the original’s legendary flop.
Directed by Frank Capra (All parts), Anatole Litvak (Parts 2-3, 5-7), and Anthony Veiller (Part 4)
Written by Veiller (Parts 1, 5, 7), Eric Knight (Part 1), Julius & Philip Epstein (Parts 2-7), and Anatole Litvak (Part 5)
Class of 2000
This is easily the most oversimplified post I’ve ever written: a seven-hour distillation of World War II distilled even further into a blog post. Every sentence of this post could be its own write-up, but we’ve got to keep things moving, and I encourage you to treat this post as the proverbial tip of the iceberg regarding World War II.
The Plot: “Why We Fight” is a seven-part film series created by Frank Capra for the US Department of War to educate the American military on how World War II came to be and what exactly we’re fighting for. Each film in the series focuses on a different aspect of the war, with episodes devoted to Hitler’s rise in Germany, the Nazi invasion of Poland and France, and the brave fighting from our allies in Britain, Russia, and China. After seven hours of wartime propaganda, you may not agree with its heavy-handedness, but you will understand why we fought.
Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is mostly a rehash of the films’ contents and Capra’s limited resources while making them, highlighting the editing of newsreel footage. An essay by Dr. Thomas W. Bohn gives more historical context and praises the series as “the finest documentary films of World War II”.
But Does It Really?: I’ve watched many NFR films over the years dealing with WWII, but “Why We Fight” is the only one that attempts an extended overview of the entire war. While no single film could possibly succeed at this, “Why We Fight” is the closest we’ll ever get. It’s long and at times unsettling, but the series is an indispensable account of the war while it was in progress, with a bounty of newsreel and documentary footage showing what it was like (albeit the manipulated, American mythologized version). “Why We Fight” is NFR-worthy for its preservation of the sights, sounds, and ideals of the war, but I would hold off on watching all seven of these unless you’re really into WWII (or the NFR).
Wow, That’s Dated: We’ll cover the films’ most egregious bits of propaganda as we go, don’t you worry.
Seriously, Oscars?: Two of the “Why We Fight” films received Oscar attention. “Prelude to War” was one of 25 nominees and four eventual winners for Best Documentary Feature in 1942, the first year that category was presented. “The Battle of Russia” was nominated the next year, losing to another war documentary from our allies in Britain: “Desert Victory”.
Other notes
Immediately following America’s official entrance into WWII in December 1941, Oscar winning director Frank Capra was among the countless Hollywood artists who enlisted in the U.S. military to help fight. Upon enlisting, Capra was commissioned the rank of Major and assigned to work with Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall. Unhappy with the underwhelming and incohesive morale lectures given to Army soldiers before deployment, Marshall commissioned Capra to make a series of films to replace these lectures and explain to soldiers why and what they were fighting for. With limited fundings, Capra and his team (including the writers listed above, editor William Hornbeck, and composer Dimitri Tiomkin) utilized available newsreels, documentaries, and battlefield footage to assemble the “Why We Fight” series.
While Walter Huston is often cited as the sole narrator of “Why We Fight”, he is conspicuously absent for most of the series. In those instances, narrating duties go to Anthony Veiller, one of the series’ writers and co-directors. A handful of other narrators pop up throughout “Why We Fight”, including Warren J. Clear, a high-ranking U.S. military diplomat, and one of many people who the quote “There are no atheists in foxholes” is attributed to.
Prelude to War (1942)
As the title suggests, “Prelude to War” shows us the global events that led to WWII in 1939, primarily the growth of Germany, Italy, and Japan under the dictatorships of, respectively, Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito. The film points to Mussolini’s fascist regime and Japan’s 1931 invasion of Manchuria as the starting points of the war, though most of the time is spent showcasing Hitler’s rise in Germany. All of this is intercut with actions taken by America and the League of Nations to ignore the warning signs and stay out of another war.
Overall, this is a very powerful start to the series. If Capra had only made this film, he would have fully succeeded in his goal to explain…well, why we fight. Admittedly, the reason “Prelude to War” spoke to me was the parallels between what this film shows us of 1930s Germany and what’s happening in 2025 America. We are in so much trouble.
On a related note, with America having been politically divided against itself for the last decade, I can’t imagine a film in 2025 bringing together all of modern America to fight a common enemy like “Why We Fight” (hell, we couldn’t even band together to fight COVID).
The film’s most memorable recurring imagery is a map of the world with black ink spreading across the Axis countires, eventually spreading to the different countries they have conquered (or plan to). This animation was done by Walt Disney Productions, part of the WWII propaganda they cranked out during the war to stay afloat.
“Prelude to War” was well received by Chief of Staff Marshall and, more importantly, President Franklin Roosevelt, who ordered that the film receive a nationwide theatrical release. After a delay from the Office of War Information, “Prelude to War” hit theaters in May 1943, where it was met with low box-office and mixed reactions from a nation that was already well-aware of why they were fighting.
The Nazis Strike (1943)
Part Two focuses on Hitler’s decade-long strategy for world domination, taking inspiration from the “Heartland theory” that whoever controls the “old world” (Afro-Eurasia) controls the world. The infiltration of fascist groups into the western world is covered, as is the Nazis’ invasions of Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland in 1938-1939. If you thought “Prelude to War” was pure propaganda, strap in.
This seems like a good time to mention that “Why We Fight” includes clips from “Triumph of the Will”, Leni Riefenstahl’s controversial 1935 Nazi propaganda movie; one of the most influential films in cinema history and one of many important movies ineligible for the NFR. I have seen “Triumph” only once, during a documentary class I took in college. I fell asleep mid-viewing and let me tell you there is nothing worse than being awakened by a 20-foot projection of Hitler yelling at you.
You most likely know the Nazi invasion of Austria from the role it plays in “The Sound of Music”, and fellow NFR enthusiasts will remember the Czechoslovakia invasion being touched upon in “Czechoslovakia 1968”.
This film’s most controversial section is its depiction of the Nazi invasion of Poland in September 1939. The film echoes many of the myths being presented at the time about the Polish army’s seemingly ineffectual fight against the Nazis, which is greatly exaggerated here to emphasize Hitler’s growing power. For a depiction of this invasion from the Polish perspective, see fellow NFR entry “Siege“. “The Nazis Strike” also downplays the Russian invasion of Poland, claiming it was a counterattack on Germany. The truth is way more complicated than I can get into here, but this more positive spin on Russia’s involvement stems from Russia being our ally at the time of this film’s production (we see much more of this in “The Battle of Russia”).
Divide and Conquer (1943)
After Poland is invaded, England and France declare war on Germany. Not wanting a two-front war, Hitler heads west and spends spring 1940 taking over the neutral countries of Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Belgium. “Divide and Conquer” concludes with the devastating surrender of France to the Germans in June 1940 despite the concentrated efforts of the Allied army.
With the exposition of the first two films out of the way, “Divide and Conquer” focuses primarily on the attacks, with an emphasis on battleground footage, including villages being destroyed and the dead bodies of innocent citizens. Each country’s invasion is paired with a corresponding quote from Hitler promising he wouldn’t attack them. This is easily the most depressing of the “Why We Fight” films so far.
Despite the especially downer subject matter, “Divide and Conquer” does try to end on a positive note, with a deus ex machina in the form of the Dunkirk evacuation, and the inspirational leadership from France’s Charles de Gaulle.
The Battle of Britain (1943)
Hitler sends his aerial warfare to attack Britain in late 1940, but the British fight back with the resilience of their people and the strength of the Royal Air Force. Just as the Battle of Britain was a turning point for Allied forces, “The Battle of Britain” is a turning point in “Why We Fight”, becoming an inspirational tale of perseverance in the face of the Nazis.
Compared to the previous three installments, “The Battle of Britain” is propaganda on the other extreme, depicting Britain as a country of Davids banding together to take down a flying Goliath. Every Brit in this movie embodies the classic “stiff upper lip” trope, always maintaining their composure as they prepare for war. It’s almost like they keep calm and carry on or something like that.
A large portion of “The Battle of Britain” comes from such British propaganda films as “The Lion Has Wings”, “Christmas Under Fire”, and “London Can Take It!”. That explains the more staged quality of this film, with dramatic cinematography and a few quippy exchanges between Brits.
Prime Minister Winston Churchill gives us some excerpts from his trademark wartime speeches throughout “Britain”. First up, his “we shall fight them on the beaches” speech from June 1940, and at the end his “Never was so much owed by so many to so few” address from August 1940. Winston’s playing the hits today.
The only major part of the Battle of Britain overlooked here is the Battle of Pepperinge Eye, where a group of Nazis were taken down by Angela Lansbury and a bunch of enchanted armor.
Thanks to this film’s depiction of the 1940 holiday season in war-torn London, “Why We Fight” has become the last movie I ever expected to make my “Die Hard Not Christmas” list.
The final shot of “The Battle of Britain” is the final shot from “Mrs. Miniver”, with the RAF flying in a V formation over a bombed church. As I said in that movie’s post, “Subtle.”
The Battle of Russia (Parts I & II) (1943)
Having mostly conquered Western Europe, Germany heads back east to settle their score with Russia. The longest of the “Why We Fight” films, “Battle of Russia” is split into two parts. Part I covers Russia and Germany’s rocky relationship, and their battles throughout 1941. Part II focuses on the seven-month Battle of Stalingrad in 1942-1943, and the Russians’ hard-fought victory over the Nazis.
Now this I found interesting. The United States’ relationship with Russia has always been fraught, so it was fascinating to watch an American film speak highly of Russia, praising its diversity, culture, and resilience against the Nazis. It helps that both this film’s co-director and composer were Russian immigrants, and their love for their homeland is on full display. As with “Nazis Strike Back”, any wrongdoing by Russia is glossed over (allegedly Capra was forced to cut a sequence chronicling Russia’s pre-war invasions of neighboring countries), and no mention is made of the country’s Communist state or Stalin’s recently cemented dictatorship. Even with the film’s propaganda bent, I still appreciated seeing Russia in a positive light before the Cold War hits and we all hate each other again.
Another classic international film sneaking its way onto the Registry: 1938’s “Alexander Nevsky”, Sergei Eisenstein’s historical epic of the Russian prince who helped fend off German crusaders in 1242. “Nevsky” is one of several films in the opening montage depicting Russia and Germany’s centuries long feud. In addition to Eisenstein, other Russian artists getting a shoutout here include “War and Peace” author Leo Tolstoy, and needle-drops from such classical composers as Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky, and Prokofiev.
“Battle of Russia” was the second (and final) “Why We Fight” film to receive a general theatrical release, including in Russia where, unsurprisingly, it was very popular, but quickly withdrawn once the Cold War broke out.
The Battle of China (1944)
We shift gears and spotlight the Japanese army’s attempts to control China throughout the 1930s. In the wake of 1937’s Nanjing Massacre, China unites to strengthen their National Revolutionary Army and fight back. Like the previous two films, “Battle of China” celebrates a country of tenacious citizens fighting a common evil, regardless of how it happened in real life.
Oh brother, this one. Even by the lax standards of “Why We Fight”, “Battle of China” ramps up the propaganda, manipulating China’s war experience to follow the same rousing story beats as “Britain” and “Russia”. With the film’s disturbing battleground footage and barrage of racial slurs towards the Japanese, I’m increasingly relieved there’s only one more “Why We Fight” film.
The first and biggest of this film’s manipulations is the Tanaka Memorial, Japan’s alleged four-step strategy for world domination. Despite its utilization here as the equivalent of Germany’s “Heartland theory”, the Tanaka Memorial is widely considered a fabrication created by anti-Japanese groups. There are so many other issues to acknowledge (The use of the term “Proper China”, the complete omission of Communism, etc.), but suffice it to say that “Battle of China” is not interested in any moral nuance and the film’s “facts” should not be taken at face value. Even the U.S. Military felt this film crossed a line, quickly pulling it from circulation within the armed forces due to “political problems”.
WARNING: While every film in “Why We Fight” contains its share of wartime violence, “Battle of China” includes extensive footage from the Nanjing Massacre, including the on-screen murder of two Chinese civilians shot at close range. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.
War Comes to America (1945)
But what about the good ol’ U.S. of A.? “War Comes to America” chronicles the history of the United States and its desire to avoid another world war. After initially staying out of things in the 1930s, America starts to show its support to the Allies with the Lend-Lease Act of 1941. But everything changes when Japan bombs Pearl Harbor, and America officially joins the fight.
As expected, “War Comes to America” is pure patriotism, with ample screentime devoted to all of America’s aspirational ideals. Like the previous entries, America’s checkered past is side-stepped: no mention of Indigenous genocide, the Civil War, or Japanese internment camps. It’s also thoroughly depressing to watch how many of our liberties have been slowly stripped away and diminished over the last 80 years (Religious freedom? What’s that?). Overall, “War Comes to America” is a rehash of everything covered so far in the series from an American point of view. Honestly, you could watch this and “Prelude to War” and get the overall gist of “Why We Fight” (and save yourself about five hours).
The film begins and ends with the designation that this is only Part I. A planned Part II of “War Comes to America” would have covered our four years fighting in the war, but that film was ultimately nixed by the Army Pictorial Service. This means “Why We Fight” ends somewhat anti-climactically with the attack on Pearl Harbor, and an unresolved “End of Part I” teaser.
Legacy
The final “Why We Fight” film was completed in June 1945, shortly after Germany’s surrender and Hitler’s suicide, and shortly before Japan’s surrender and the official end of World War II in September (Italy had surrendered in 1943). And America has never had a problem with other countries since.
Following the end of the war, Frank Capra returned to Hollywood, founded his own independent film company (Liberty Films), and made arguably his best movie – “It’s a Wonderful Life”.
Written by Jules Furthman. Based on a story by Hawks.
Class of 2017
The Plot: In the fictional South American port of Barranca there’s a small airway company run by the enigmatic Geoff Carter (Cary Grant). Operating out of a local bar/hotel, the airway carries mail through the dangerous Andes Mountains and is one missed delivery away from going out of business. One night, the American Bonnie Lee (Jean Arthur) arrives in Barranca when the banana boat she’s traveling on docks there for the night. Infatuated by Carter and his business, Bonnie opts to miss her boat and stay in Barranca. Things get complicated when Carter hires new pilot Bat MacPherson (Richard Barthelmess), who may be keeping a few secrets about his past from his wife Judy (Rita Hayworth). There’s plenty of intrigue and flying sequences to go around in this drama from Howard Hawks.
Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film the “’quintessential’ Howard Hawks male melodrama”, praising the “sparkling dialogue” and the “dazzling air sequences”.
But Does It Really?: This is a minor minor classic. We’ve got plenty of Howard Hawks and Cary Grant on the list, and this one is barely relevant enough to consider NFR-worthy (Of Hawks’ 10 films on the Registry, this was the tenth to make the list). “Only Angels” is routinely hailed as one of Hawks’ best movies, and maybe I’m just partial to his screwball comedies, but this didn’t do anything for me. The performances are all great, as are the flying scenes, but overall I was thrown by the movie’s lowkey toxic masculinity and somewhat static presentation. In terms of the great movies of 1939, “Only Angels Have Wings” is second or third tier on that list and makes the NFR mainly for its reputation and the pedigree of its creatives.
Title Track: Howard Hawks’ original treatment was called “Plane from Barranca”, and the film went by the working title “Plane No. 4” during production. I’m glad they spiced up the title, because “Plane No. 4” is an unquestionably bland name for a movie. But hey, at least they didn’t just call it “Plane”. Who’d be dumb enough to do that?
Seriously, Oscars?: A hit upon release, “Only Angels Have Wings” received an Oscar nomination for its Visual Effects (that category’s first year), losing to the disaster film “The Rains Came”.
Other notes
Shortly after beginning his showbiz career as a prop boy, Howard Hawks joined the US Army Air Service when America entered World War I. Although he never saw combat, Hawks’ experience as a flight instructor would influence many of his later films, notably his early work as a director like “The Dawn Patrol” and “Today We Live”. In 1932 while scouting locations in Mexico for “Viva Villa!” (a film production he would quit before completion), Hawks spent some time with Mexican aviators, and their stoicism became the basis for his “Plane from Barranca” story. Hawks and “Only Angels” landed at Columbia after Hawks was fired from RKO for the box office failure of future NFR movie “Bringing Up Baby”.
I’ve only seen Jean Arthur in her NFR movies, but I like what I see. As Bonnie, Arthur isn’t as tough as your typical Hawksian lady, but she can definitely go toe-to-toe with the likes of Cary Grant. According to Arthur, she and Hawks didn’t get along during production, and it wasn’t until she saw Lauren Bacall in “To Have and Have Not” a few years later that she realized what kind of performance Hawks was trying to get out of her.
Bonnie, upon meeting two English-speaking pilots in South America: “It sure sounds good to hear something that doesn’t sound like Pig-Latin.” Yikes.
This is one of at least five NFR films to feature character actor Sig Ruman, Hollywood’s go-to for German and German-adjacent characters. Here Ruman plays “Dutchy”, the airways owner who looks a lot like a live-action Geppetto.
Fun bit of trivia: One of the pilots in the film is played by Allyn Joslyn, who a few years later would play Mortimer Brewster in the Broadway production of “Arsenic and Old Lace”, a role played in the film version by…Cary Grant.
It takes a while for Cary Grant to show up, but when he does he has a nice movie star entrance, wearing a ridiculously large straw planter hat. Cary is good as always in this, but I worry the character is too stoic for his own good. This is why I never liked Robert Mitchum: I can’t read him!
Playing grounded pilot “Kid” Dabb is Thomas Mitchell, your MVP of 1939. In addition to “Only Angels Have Wings”, Mitchell’s 1939 filmography included performances in “Gone with the Wind”, “Stagecoach”, and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”. And that’s just his 1939 movies that have made the NFR! As much as he deserved his Supporting Oscar for “Stagecoach”, I’m beginning to see how that win was also for his great work throughout the year. One question: Why does everyone keep calling him “Kid”? He’s 47!
I’m enjoying the model work of the planes in the flight scenes. It’s very low budget by today’s standards, but it works. Unfortunately, the HD print I was watching occasionally reveals the strings holding the model plane up.
One of the film’s more interesting choices is to have no underscore outside of the very beginning and very end. This must have been Dimitri Tiomkin’s easiest assignment. The lack of score certainly makes the silent moments stand out more, especially the eerie quiet surrounding Joe trying to land his plane in the fog. The one downside of no score: I watched “Only Angels” on an overcast Sunday afternoon and almost fell asleep.
This is an actual exchange between Carter and Kid once they learn that Bonnie’s missed boat won’t be making a stop in Santa Maria:
Carter: Why not?
Kid: They have no bananas.
Carter: They have no bananas?
Kid: Yes, they have no bananas.
That’s a long way to go to reference a novelty song, but I’ll allow it.
At last, a Richard Barthelmess performance on the NFR where he isn’t miscast due to being too old or not Asian (though funnily enough his characters in both this and “Tol’able David” are mail carriers). And yes, that’s a young Rita Hayworth in an early film performance as MacPherson’s wife Judy. She doesn’t have much to do here, but you can see how people would take notice of her after this film. Rita’s casting was at the insistence of Columbia head Harry Cohn, who was in the process of transforming the exotic bit player Rita Cansino into the more glamorous leading lady Rita Hayworth.
Side note: Although Carter calls Judy by her name several times throughout the film, he never says “Judy, Judy, Judy” a la later Cary Grant impressions. That bit allegedly stemmed from comedian Larry Storch doing his Grant impression at a nightclub when he spotted Judy Garland walking in. Grant never said “Judy, Judy, Judy” in any of his films, though apparently he uttered it in an outtake of one of his later films as a practical joke (possibly “Charade“, but I couldn’t find anything definitive).
The shot of Carter flying the plane straight down is unintentionally hilarious. It’s obviously a regular shot of Cary Grant with the camera turned sideways.
This movie has a “Casablanca” vibe to it; a bunch of foreigners with mysterious pasts in an exotic location, waiting in a bar for a plane to show up. If only this movie had a Max Steiner score and a couple of standards to jazz it up a bit. As “Only Angels” moves into its third act, the film starts getting more like “Red Dust”, complete with rainstorm!
Speaking of “Red Dust”, Cary Grant is a strong contender for the 1939 Clark Gable prize for best reaction to getting shot: No reaction whatsoever. He just stands there as everyone huddles around him to examine the injury. It’s keeping with the character’s stoicism, but come on!
[Spoilers] I had no idea what to expect from the film’s ending, but I didn’t have “bird strike with condors” on my Bingo card. I definitely didn’t see that coming. Sadly, neither did MacPherson or Kid.
Somewhat ironically, this film takes a long time making a landing for its ending. We know Carter is going to take off in that plane and we know Bonnie is going to stay and wait for him, but there’s like 10 minutes of everyone saying goodbye to each other before any of that happens. Just go already!
Legacy
“Only Angels Have Wings” was released in May 1939 (less than two weeks after its reshoots!) and was a hit with critics and audiences. The film was even set to play at the first ever Cannes Film Festival in 1939, but the festival was canceled once WWII broke out in Europe.
Hawks’ next movie also starred Cary Grant, the much more iconic “His Girl Friday”. As Hawks’ filmography continued to get re-evaluated over the years, “Only Angels Have Wings” became a popular example of the French auteur theory.
Rita Hayworth’s star continued to rise after the success of “Only Angels”, and within a few years was starring in several big musicals while simultaneously becoming a popular pin-up girl with our boys overseas. Hayworth spent the 1940s as a bonafide movie star, including in the NFR films “Gilda” and “The Lady from Shanghai”.
The film’s repeated line “Calling Barranca, calling Barranca” is referenced in the 1940 Merrie Melodies cartoon, “Ceiling Hero” (its title a spoof on Hawks’ “Ceiling Zero”). Apparently, the phrase pops up in several other Merrie Melodies/Looney Tunes shorts, but I could only confirm “Ceiling Hero”. Maybe “Ceiling Hero” played a lot in TV reruns?
The Horse's Head 