I find it difficult to write a 'review' of this film because it leaves me quite speechless. What a story! To have conceived of and written this masterpiece is truly a great accomplishment. To have then committed it to film with all the difficulties that that entails is quite remarkable. To have done so with such skill, beauty and imagination is nothing short of miraculous.
If you don't like this film. You don't like film.
A beautiful masterpiece. One of the finest motion pictures you could ever wish to see. It's one of Powell and Pressburger's most celebrated films and it most certainly should be one very film fan must see. The inimitable David Niven plays Squadron Leader Peter Carter who on returning from a mission over Germany is alone in his badly damaged plane and his parachute is ripped to shreds. His final conversation is with June a radio operator and they are both touched by the poignancy of their words to each other just before Peter throws himself from his aircraft to avoid being burnt alive. But he miraculously survives, meets June and they instantly fall in love. But Peter is visited by a strange man who claims Peter was meant to die and is expected in the afterlife. Peter refuses to go and must stand trial to plead why he deserves to remain alive. This is essentially a romance fantasy with marvellous performances including Kim Hunter as June and Roger Livesey as a doctor friend. But the film delves into complex issues of history, of England's cultural influence , of the role of religion and human emotions and what being alive actually means. It really is a fantastically moving film and a real joy too. So if you've never seen this then it is one I urge you to find. You will not be disappointed.
As much a national treasure as a feature film. There is a glorious moment even before the start when the Powell and Pressburger Archers logo blooms from austere grey into rich Technicolor. War is over. The country survived. Then the film opens with the pilot of a flaming Lancaster (David Niven) on radio to a ground operative (Kim Hunter), one of the great scenes in British cinema.
The following shot of Niven walking from the wet seashore in his RAF uniform (having jumped from the bomber without a parachute) is properly iconic. The rest of the story takes place in the pilot's head as he fights to stay alive, and resist the b&w afterlife of his imagination. Which is a typically eccentric Powell and Pressburger conceit.
The airman should have died, and is expected in the bureaucratic offices of the departed. This crisis is presented as a court case, and this is the climax of the film. But the scene is a huge muddle which makes no convincing argument either for the future of the country or the survival of a brave man. Much of the film is prodigiously nihilistic, which is fascinating, but hardly the zeitgeist.
Still, what stays vividly in the memory is the heartbreaking scene back in the Lancaster with the doomed squadron leader speaking his last words to a stranger. The rapport between Niven and Hunter is overwhelming and at times the film is too moving to bear. It's a stunning visual production and an audacious concept, which loses its way in its climactic set piece.