49th Parallel (1941)

Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger's artistic collaboration at the start of WWII benefits from a powerhouse cast.

Clearly propaganda, the cast and crew apparently came from all parts of the world to lend their talents for a "mutual cause." With strains of Ralph Vaughn Williams's score woven into the cinematic fabric, Pressberger's elaborate story is expansive and involved.

The Oscar nominated film is worth watching, and it's interesting to see Raymond Massey's speech as a G.I. so very Yank-oriented, without a trace of the mannered style he later acquired. Leslie Howard is well cast as a poetic, philosophical dreamer. However, it's Anton Walbrook who really surprises with an uncharacteristic subtle naturalistic style.

This is apparently the project Elizabeth Bergner used to defect from Germany to the U.S., leaving the film for Hollywood (and Glynis Johns to take over the role). The actors playing Nazis are all quite strong.

Fmovies: This film, being labeled as propaganda, seems to be different from the usual fare Hollywood presented for the same purpose during the years of WWII. It takes a director like Michael Powell, working with his usual collaborator, Emeric Pressburger, to turn this movie into a riveting case against fascism. The screen play, by Mr. Pressburger and Rodney Ackland involves the viewer from the start.

Mr. Powell and his crew did wonders with their budgets. Things were done in a much modest scale in England, especially during those days of hardship as the country was already involved in the conflict. By bringing the production to Canada, Mr. Powell achieved a coup by shooting the film in locations that show the majesty of the country.

In a way, "49th Parallel" shows the difference in ideology from the stranded Nazis with the friendliness and openness of Canada. The generosity of that country in receiving, and accepting all the people in need of refuge, is also in sharp contrast with the philosophy advocated by Hitler and his ilk in Europe.

One of Mr. Powell's accomplishment with this film is to present the biggest stars of the English cinema in roles that were not what one expected from these actors to assume. Thus, we watch Leslie Howard, Lawrence Olivier, Anton Walbrook, Raymond Massey in roles that are self effacing, at best, but which leave their mark on us, the viewers. Eric Portman is the only one that is seen throughout the film, as he got the best opportunity of his career where to shine as the hateful Lt. Hans Hirth. A young Glynis Johns is seen at the rural commune.

The great cinematography of Freddie Young and the elegant editing of David Lean are hidden assets of this film. The musical score by Ralph Vaughan Williams is heard in the background.

This is a highly recommended film to realize the greatness of Michael Powell at work.

Although 49th Parallel was conceived as a wartime propaganda film, and is predictably heavy-handed in places, it is more often surprisingly subtle and ambivalent. Michael Powell's creativity, individuality and directorial skill lift the film above the standard flag-waving banality which might be expected from the genre.

Although the general point of the film, particularly aimed at the Americans, is that the Nazis are evil and should be opposed, Nazis are in fact the central characters, and it could be argued that Lt. Hirth (Eric Portman) is the hero. Although he is clearly not a nice person and displays many of the cliched trappings of the stereotypical evil Nazi, he is portrayed sympathetically in some ways. It is possible to sympathise with him and his men because they are lost and alone in a foreign country which they cannot comprehend and where no-one can comprehend them. The war is shown not as a simple battle between absolute good and absolute evil, but as a clash of cultures. Hirth belongs to a German tradition of loyalty, obedience and service to the state which is much older than Hitler. He genuinely cannot understand the concepts of democracy, liberalism and individualism, and is completely bewildered by the lifestyle of the Hutterite community, asking not only "who is your leader?" but "what's the salute?". He is an idealist who believes that he and the rest of the Nazis know what is best for everyone. In Powell's view, the war is not just about democracy against dictatorship, but also liberalism against authoritarianism, individualism against conformity and, above all, pragmatism against idealism.

The way the conflict is illustrated through the German sailors' encounters with diverse Canadians is subtle, intelligent and highly effective. The Canadians are not portrayed as heroes. They have very human failings. They are mostly complacent, ignorant, and hypocritical. They try to bury their heads in the sand and pretend the war isn't happening until they are forced to make a decision by their unexpected encounters with Hirth and his men. Johnny, the French-Canadian fur trapper (Laurence Olivier, horribly miscast), comes across as arrogant and obnoxious, and seemingly has little interest in the war. Scott (Leslie Howard) is appallingly smug, hypocritical and self-absorbed, avoiding involvement in the war by retreating to the Rocky Mountains. Although he is fashionably disdainful of the Nazi leaders, he is unmoved by what they have done in Europe. He is only shaken out of his complacency when the Germans vandalise his books and paintings! Significantly, Hirth crows that " we kicked him out of the Reich years ago" as he burns Thomas Mann's latest book. Scott must have been aware of the sufferings of Thomas Mann and others in Nazi Germany, but felt no need to do anything about it.

The overall result is that although the individual Canadians are not heroic, they eventually make up their minds and join the fight against Nazism (as Powell hoped the Americans would). They each have their own reasons for this, reasons which are often selfish, ambiguous and prosaic. In this, they are the antithesis of the disciplined and idealistic Hirth. It is made clear that those who oppose the Nazis are not merely fighting out of blind loyalty to their countries, but nor are they fighting for any abstract ideal. Democracy is not portrayed as an ideal, but as a pragmatic solution: the worst system apart from all the others. The liberal democratic society of the western

49th Parallel fmovies. I should only like to add to the already comprehensive, very well observed and intelligent review of this film on the previous pages, namely, that the film score by the great Ralph Vaughan Williams should not be left out of any discussion of the picture. As the film starts with the magnificent mountain scenery and Eric Portman's fantastic introductory speech ("shook hands on it and kept it ever since...", "the 49th parallel, the only undefended border in the world...") you seem to be immediately transported into the spirit and persuasion of this exercise in trying to convince all Americans, not just Canadians, that they should join the fight, their place is with all the others, Europeans, British, French, all peoples under the Nazi yoke.

You'd be tempted to think that there's no way '49th Parallel (1941)' could have turned out anything less than excellent. Not only do Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger perform their famous double-act, but there's also the equally-enviable partnership of David Lean (here working as editor) and cinematographer Freddie Young. But we must remember that in the realm of WWII propaganda there lie dangerous waters, and only the most talented filmmakers (so far, I count Hitchcock, Wilder, Renoir, Curtiz and Reed) can navigate their war-themed picture towards any degree of lasting respectability. We can certainly add Michael Powell to that list of famous names. '49th Parallel' is different from most of its contemporaries because it presents the film solely from the German point-of-view. The portrayal is not favourable, of course, and at least their commander reeks of pure evil, but the German characters are nonetheless humanised to no small extent. These aren't cold, immoral monsters, but ordinary people, swept up in euphoric Nazi ideology and pining for the simpler life they can barely remember.

When a German submarine is destroyed in Hudson Bay, Canada, the surviving Nazi soldiers – led by the fiercely patriotic Kommandant Bernsdorff (Richard George) – must navigate their way across the country into the then-neutral United States of America. The native citizens they meet along the way are largely jovial and laid-back, many hardly aware of the war raging across the Atlantic, and the Germans haughtily deem them foes unworthy of the Fuhrer's might. But these Canadians, as placid as they first seem, can surely recognise fascism when they see it, and each of the soldiers is picked off one by one, like the characters from a war-themed version of Agatha Christie's "And Then There Were None." Among the unwitting local patriots is French-Canadian trapper Laurence Olivier – a caricature but an entertaining one – anthropologist/author Leslie Howard, and grinning deserter Raymond Massey, each of whom shows the Nazis that they're dealing with an enemy whose sheer spirit overshadows all of Hitler's armies combined.

The film was apparently intended as a tribute to Canada's involvement in the war, and perhaps – as was Hitchcock's 'Foreign Correspondent (1940)' – a call-to-arms for the then-isolationist United States, who would hold back until the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour in December 1941. Many of the film's characters remark upon the sheer remoteness of the war relative to their own lives, unaware that it is actually standing before them; this idea was almost certainly aimed at American audiences. After the brilliantly suspenseful first act at Hudson Bay, I initially felt that the film was going off track by continuing to follow the Germans after their aerial departure from the remote village. However, as time wore on, I began to appreciate what the film was aiming for. Though the snow-swept slopes around Hudson Bay may seem leagues away from the Canadian/American border, Kommandant Bernsdorff and his ever-dwindling band gradually progress their way south, until, not only does he reach the border, but he physically crosses into the United States. The War had never been closer.

Unless you believe George Orwell's claim that all art is propaganda; which, with all due respect to one of the twentieth century's finest minds, is poppycock. The propaganda film is a special kind of film, usually unbearable garbage. This one is an exception.

A German U-boat is sunk just off the coast of Canada and the surviving crew must make it through hostile enemy country to the neutral United States. After a short while their plight becomes known and the whole world is watching to see which nation, Canada or Germany, can manage to win the metaphorical battle.

The most interesting thing - considering the movie as propaganda - is that Powell's intended audience was the United States: he wanted to get that country involved in the war, or at least get the people of that country to support the war. Realise this and you realise how remarkably subtle the film is. Not once is Powell's goal explicitly stated or even alluded to; and even the underlying message (the USA *is* involved in the war, whether it wants to admit it or not) requires some thought to work out. Yet it's an integral part of the story. More explicit is the democracy vs. dictatorship theme, which is hammered home a number of different ways, not all of them obvious. (This theme is handled a bit too obviously now and then, I'll admit.)

Another interesting fact is that the hero of the story is either democracy, or Canada, or the Western Allies, or some such - no one person plays the role. The central characters are the Germans. In fact they're all quite likable (except for the doctrinaire Nazi, of course). Powell bends over backwards to inhibit anti-German sentiment. Despite all this we are not once on the Germans' side. We want them to be captured so long as they continue to serve an evil regime.

It's also a beautifully shot travelogue of Canada. And Ralph Vaughan Williams's score is lovely. He was seventy or so when he wrote it; he'd never written for the cinema before; he had his own ideas about what film music should be like.