Mrs. Miniver

Mrs. Miniver (released June 4, 1942)
Directed by: William Wyler
Starring: Greer Garson, Walter Pidgeon, Teresa Wright, Dame May Whitty, Reginald Owen, Henry Travers, Richard Ney, Henry Wilcoxon
Produced by: Sidney Franklin
Written by: Jan Struther (book), George Froeschel, James Hilton, Claudine West, Arthur Wimperis
Music by: Herbert Stothart
Cinematography by: Joseph Ruttenberg
Distributed by: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

K.I.S.H.

Keep it Simple, Hollywood

I really like old movies. There is something straightforward about them: what you see is what you get. Today’s moviegoer is too sophisticated for his or her own good.  They expect fancy plot compositions, bigger and better special effects, and unexpected plot twists. And it is getting harder and harder to fool the audience.  Pulp Fiction, Memento, The Crying Game, The Sixth Sense, The Matrix, all of these have set the bar in Hollywood for the next generation. But let’s rewind for a minute and focus on a time when we didn’t have to try to dupe the audience with a lot of cleverness.

Mrs. Miniver was the Best Picture winner for 1942, and the United States was poised to enter World War II in Europe. I know my husband is going to talk all about the war, because that’s his thing, so I’ll leave him to that. What I want to focus on is the story itself: about a family trying to hang together through an extremely difficult time.  The Miniver family lives on the Thames on the outskirts of London, in what they dub a “middle class household.” Oh please, if that is middle class, then I grew up poor white trash. The house was huge, they had 2 servants, for crying out loud. The Miniver family consisted of Mr. Miniver (Walter Pidgeon), Mrs. Miniver (Greer Garson), adult son Vincent (Richard Ney), and young children Judy (Clare Sandars), and Toby (Christopher Severn).  I found out from my husband after we watched the film that Greer Garson actually married Richard Ney, her onscreen son after this film. He was only 11 years her junior, but the marriage didn’t last long. Apparently he was abusive and made some disparaging remarks about her age in public. Jackass. On the bright side it ruined his career.

This movie was also adapted from a book, although it was not from a true novel. The author, Jan Struther, originally wrote about Mrs. Miniver in a newspaper column.  These columns were based largely on her own life, and became wildly successful in the face of World War II. When they were collected and published, they became popular in the United States as well, and Struther actually did a book tour after the book’s release. Both Churchill and FDR credit the movie as being the tipping point of American sympathy and our hastening to go to war in Europe.  And they didn’t even have to show any blood.

And even while the movie didn’t have a tightly written plot, I still enjoyed watching it.  It was almost like watching a series of newspaper articles – little vignettes woven together to create a greater picture, and that was satisfying. Over these smaller stories looms the threat of war, which is woven in several places: Vin enlists with the RAF, Mr. Miniver runs his boat back and forth across the channel saving soldiers from Dunkirk, and of course, the family eventually must take to their air-raid shelter at night as the Battle of Britain roars overhead. After hearing what falling bombs actually sound like, I now understand why my uncle never went to the fireworks on the 4^th of July – they are eerily similar.

I haven’t mentioned the main love story of the film yet. It is between young Vincent (Vin) Miniver and Carol Beldon, who is the daughter of Lady Beldon, of Beldon Manor. They of course hate each other at first, but fall in love, and when Vin enlists in the RAF, you just know that he is going to die. Hmmm, I guess old movies do have plot twists after all! Anyway, the most interesting thing is that I found Carol (played by Teresa Wright), bears a striking resemblance to Ellen Page, star of Juno, and the recently released, Whip It.  What do you think? You really have to see her talk and see her facial expressions mannerisms to get the full effect, but I think some of it comes through in the pictures.

And finally, a word on the vile demon child TOBY! How did they find the ugliest child on earth and why would they immortalize him on film? I think he must be the spawn of a human woman and one of those flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. Ugly little thing, and a total spaz to boot.

~Anna

“MRS. MINIVER”

BOMBS AND ROSES

William Wyler and the folks at MGM did not for a minute even try to hide the fact that with the United States now at war (the Battle of Midway and this film opened on the same day) the American people needed some good solid propaganda to get them in the mood to concurrently face Hitler and the Japanese warlords. The U.S.’s direct involvement in the European war was still several months away (Operation Torch – The Invasion of North Africa, Nov ’42) but in the meantime an uplifting film featuring the long-suffering English, hunkering down and taking whatever the evil Hun could dish out at them was perfect fodder for Hollywood. In fact, Hollywood was handed a plum (or a rose?) as they bought the rights from authoress Jan Struther, who created the fictional character of Mrs. Miniver who first appeared in a newspaper series dating back to 1937.

Amid the bucolic scenes of English country life (reminiscent to me of the shots in Alfred Hitchcock’s Suspicion) we meet the Minivers, your typical mid-level British family who slowly come to realize the maelstrom of world events is about to come crashing down atop their beautiful country home, “Starlings” located somewhere outside of London with the peaceful meandering Thames in their backyard. However, before the calamitous event takes place, we are made privy to another war in smaller scale taking place in the Miniver home. Vincent – Vin (played by Richard Ney), their oldest child of three has just returned from Oxford where his head is stuffed with ideas about the odious class divisions in English society. He has it out with a neighbor’s daughter, Carol Beldon (Theresa Wright) a member of the upper class he so despises but in true Hollywood fashion, as the film plays out, falls head-over-heels for her.

There is another subplot brewing in the form of an annual flower competition held in the village whose first prize for most beautiful rose is taken every year by Carol’s aristocratic grandmother, Lady Beldon (May Whitty). It is a forgone conclusion that she will win it this year again just because she is landed gentry and wins it every year, but the introduction of an outstanding rose, grown by the village stationmaster and church bell-ringer, James Ballard (Henry Travers) adds to the complications as he has decided to enter it in the competition. In the film’s first scene, we see him offering to name the flower after Mrs. Miniver (Greer Garson). It is the perfect allegory as Kay Miniver is offered up to audiences as the quintessential English lady: beautiful, sophisticated, charming, reserved and levelheaded. She is everyman’s ideal of what a proper woman and mother should be. (Her one fault I will elucidate on later.) And what flower most represents the English than that of the rose?

Beneath all this polite melodrama is the running theme of class division in England and how world events – i.e., the War, was swiftly breaking down hundreds of years of aristocratic/commoner partition. I suppose when you’re hunkering down in a foxhole, there are no atheists, nor for that fact, lords or ladies. Everyone’s in it together. I am not sure how much of this class division in England was known to American audiences at the time, but if Hollywood filmmakers could make people of the U.S. understand what challenges the English were facing at the time, it would possibly be conceived as a sympathetic and good thing.

As far as the legendary British “stiff upper lip” attitude goes, the film does an admirable job highlighting that trait. Kay Miniver’s quiet disarming of a Luftwaffe pilot who was shot down and forced himself into her house at Lugar-point to steal some bread and clothes was supposed to show your prototypical English courage.

I similarly enjoyed the fantasy featuring her husband Clem Miniver, played by Walter Pigeon (with a distinct lack of a British accent) as he calmly(!) evaluates the damage done to his partially bombed-out house while puffing on his pipe and murmuring asides to himself. Yes, this movie is a total flight of the imagination, but one must see it in the context of its times. The British had to be shown to be courageous and enduring and holding the line against the Germans until the Arsenal of Democracy could arrive. Winston Churchill had glowing things to say about this film precisely because he understood the power of its message.

Even though you know this film is aiming directly for your heart, one marvels at the power of the finale at the flower competition when Lady Beldon unselfishly gives away her first place award and bestows the top prize to the Miniver Rose instead. Even more emotional is the scene where she awards herself second prize and the crowd stands and gives her a rousing ovation. It is a scene that is certain to create a lump in your throat. Soon after though, the real tear-jerking begins and leads way to the uplifting conclusion with the vicar’s powerful sermon ringing in our ears. Given the times, I can easily see why the Academy swooned over this picture.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the creepy little kid, Toby. The youngest of the Miniver clan, this strange little character blurts out all sorts of disturbing lines and looks rather half-crazed with his wild, staring eyes and unkempt hair. I enjoyed making fun of him throughout the film. Sorry, it’s the ne’er-do-well in me, and I found it odd that Mr. & Mrs. Miniver, in all other aspects a perfect screen couple, allows this unpleasant little tyke to act up the way he did without any hint of chastisement.

One last thought: the title is something of an enigma to me. Does it refer to the title character, or perhaps the flower that was named after her?

--kak

Up next: The French Connection (1971)