Classic Movie Review: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp
By Josh Spiegel
August 24, 2009
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Though the 1945 British film The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp wasn't the very first film to shoot in Technicolor, it is a notable progression in cinema history, a movie that not only was filmed in color, but made sure that every audience member was aware of it; all the colors in Colonel Blimp pop out, from the title character's shiny, almost waxy skin, to each grain of dirt on the World War I battlefield to even the mundane details. For this and many other reasons, Colonel Blimp is regarded as a classic, not only of British cinema, but of cinema in general.
Of course, if it hadn't been for Martin Scorsese, we might not know what treasures are truly in store during Colonel Blimp. The movie was shot during the height of World War II, written and directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. Of all people, Prime Minister Winston Churchill found the film, which chronicles the life and death of a military man named Clive Wynne-Candy (Blimp is a bit of an apt nickname, but was also the name of a famous comic strip character in the United Kingdom during the 1930s and 1940s), to be blatanly unpatriotic and unsuitable for public viewing. We can forgive Churchill for being incredibly wrong in his choice here, but you have to wonder how much of his wartime attitude blinded his viewing of the movie.
Colonel Blimp was released in the States a few years later, but at a length of 90 minutes; seeing as the movie runs nearly 165 minutes, that difference is very noticeable. For decades, the film languished; however, thanks to Scorsese's fervent love of the Powell and Pressburger movies, Colonel Blimp was eventually restored in full and released as a Criterion Collection DVD. Powell and Pressburger thought the film was their best; I can't quite speak to that claim, as this is the first film of theirs that I've seen, but if their other work is half as good as Colonel Blimp, they had a great track record. Colonel Blimp is a patient movie, doling out character development deftly and smoothly, never hammering us over the head with exposition or unnecessary scenes. Yes, the movie is long, but as an examination of a life, it is wholly engrossing.
Wynne-Candy is first seen as a walrus-like figure in a large spa, waiting for the clock to strike midnight so he can help enact a training exercise in the streets of London to prepare the Home Guard for the coming onslaught of the Nazis. However, he's beaten to it by a group of sneaky, shrewd young soldiers who rightly suppose that Hitler wouldn't wait for the clock to strike midnight. As Wynne-Candy lashes out at these youngsters, we travel back in time to the turn of the 20th century, as the Boer War rages. Wynne-Candy is now a younger man, thinner, and sans mustache. Through a series of circumstances where he stands out as an honorable figure, Wynne-Candy has to duel a German soldier named Theo, ostensibly over the honor of one Edith Hunter, a beautiful woman who protests the propaganda being spread by some Germans during the war.
After the duel, of all things, Theo and Clive become fast friends as they recuperate in a hospital. During this time, Theo falls quickly in love with Hunter, an upright Englishwoman; only once they become engaged does Clive realize that he is also hopelessly in love with Hunter and can do nothing about it. Time passes, and as both World Wars rage into Britain, Clive is either fighting for his country, or fighting to regain that lost love through other people. During World War I, he meets a nurse named Barbara who he marries; he is certainly in love with her, but it's very clear that he's predisposed to like her based on her stunning resemblance to Edith. No other character fully appreciates this fact except for Theo, who shows up full-force in World War II, trying to escape the iron hand of Hitler and the Nazis, who have swayed his children but not him.
By this time, Edith has passed away, so Theo is eager to once again spend time with his good friend Clive. Yes, you may have realized at this point that Colonel Blimp is not a movie about plot. You may have also picked up some parallels here with the Alfred Hitchcock classic Vertigo, where the lead character tries to regain a love of some kind with another woman. Here, though, we are not meant to feel like Clive is creepy or truly pathetic. His honor and pride are strong, and his love is real and heartfelt. What makes Colonel Blimp so unique, so enjoyable, and so thrilling to watch are the characters and, as you would expect, the performances. Though the most well-known (or, to be fair, the only known) actor in the film is the late Deborah Kerr, the title role is played by Roger Livesey, who ended up being Powell and Pressburger's choice after Sir Laurence Olivier was unavailable.
I know, you're probably guessing that this is a major step down in quality, but who knows what this film would have looked like with such a prominent, almost over-the-top thespian as Olivier as the lead? Moreover, I wouldn't want him here; Roger Livesey, at all times, IS Colonel Wynne-Candy. There is certainly makeup aiding his aging process, but it is seamless. One shot in particular, where Wynne-Candy pushes an arrogant soldier into a pool and fights him, ending with a much younger title character exiting, is truly amazing, flashy while simple. He enters an old man, emerges a younger one, and we believe both men are one and the same. The makeup is there, but you only see it if...well, if you're not involved and you don't care to accept the transformative process.
Either way, Livesey is impressive, something of a blowhard, but always correctly emotional as the title character; you may assume that, based on the title, this movie will be about a figure of ridicule, but there's no such trappings to be found. He's also supported by Anton Walbrook as Theo, certainly a supporting character, but incredibly important. Late in the game, as the older Theo tries to explain why he has come back to the United Kingdom, back to his good friend Wynne-Candy, he delivers a speech, one that is so riveting, so fascinating, so sad, yet so exultant, that we aren't watching actors. Powell and Pressburger have written out full lives here, and the actors spend their entire time on-screen making sure we are aware of the lives these people have lead.
The notable star, as mentioned above, is Kerr, who would later appear in such films as The King & I and From Here to Eternity. As a relative newcomer, she has a far more challenging time of things. She first appears as Edith Hunter; then, she is Barbara, Wynne-Candy's wife; finally, in the World War II sequence, she is Angela "Johnny" Cannon, the chipper young driver who Wynne-Candy hires; the scene where she is introduced to Theo and to us is by turns chilling and wondrous. What's more, that scene is not punctuated by music, a loud sting of violins, alerting us to the shock of seeing the same actress a third time. Here, the look on Theo's face is all the shock we need to see or feel. That aside, Kerr is warm, engaging, and altogether believable as three women who all earn Wynne-Candy's admiration and adoration.
The films of Powell and Pressburger, including Black Narcissus and The Red Shoes, aren't forgotten by any means; the latter film is perhaps their most famous work. However, British cinema in general isn't often recognized by many people; even the Ealing comedies or the early work by David Lean may go forgotten by some film buffs. I'm guilty, to this point, of not reveling in this duo's work, but with my foray here, I'm eager to see the rest of their filmography. The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp may not be a heavily plotted film, but as a fully realized biography of someone not so ordinary as to be forgotten, but not so extraordinary as to be championed, is a satisfying achievement.