War Starts At Midnight, by Tyler Smith

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COLONEL BLIMP (1943)
Written and Directed by: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger
Starring: Roger Livesey, Deborah Kerr, Anton Walbrook

Oh, what a rare delight! I get to talk about a movie that very few people have seen. In fact, I only know of one person other than myself who has seen the film; and, even then, he and I saw it in the same film class.

The film I’m talking about is Michael Powell’s The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp. Near the end of my college years, I decided to take a bit of a break and spend a semester in mostly critical studies classes. Basically that means that I spent all my time watching great movies and writing about them. It was like a semester-long vacation.

One of these classes was a study/comparison of filmmakers Michael Powell and David Lean. Powell I had heard about only in reference to a film that sounded interesting, which seemed to feature a character named “Colonel Blimp.” I was much more interested in David Lean, who, many of you know, directed such classics as Lawrence of Arabia and The Bridge on the River Kwai. It wound up being a very interesting class, where I got to see a lot of movies that weren’t even on my radar. I was very grateful for being exposed to the films of Powell, a director who, sadly, has faded from the memories of modern movie-lovers.

Now, then, Colonel Blimp. An epic movie that will get the epic treatment from me, this is probably going to be one of my longer blogs. I apologize.

First off, any film that has the name “Colonel Blimp” in the title, then has the gall to feature no character by that name; that’s a movie ballsy enough to at least warrant a mention. I wasn’t really sure exactly why this was, but then I looked at the background.

Colonel Blimp was a popular comic strip character in England in the ’30s and ’40s. A fat, bald man with a thick, bushy mustache, Blimp was a relic of the past. His old-fashioned views- on war, especially- were something to be ridiculed. The character was very popular among those with an anti-establishment mindset.

Then Michael Powell and his producer Emeric Pressburger had a brainstorm. What if they made a film about Blimp’s background, exploring where his outdated thinking came from. With the permission of the author, they borrowed the character’s name (for the title, only) and appearance and went to work.

The idea was that audiences would go to the film expecting to see a humorous film about the silly character they were so familiar with. Instead, they would be treated to a thoughtful story of the obsolescence of chivalry and respect in the modern age.

Our hero, named Clive Wynne-Candy, begins as a brash, disrespectful youth. Despite that, though, he is very principled. He is the sort that will go to another country to defend honor.
His gentlemanly actions tend to create strong friendships, even out of would-be rivalry. One of the most interesting relationships in the film (perhaps film, in general) is between Wynne-Candy and his government-appointed duel opponent. They are both injured, and spend some time in a hospital, becoming lifelong friends. That the man is a German is of little consequence, until that world war starts, at which point the friendship hits a rough patch, but still manages.

Sometimes, Wynne-Candy’s politeness and chivalry winds up hurting him. Early in the film, he finds that he and his best friend are both in love with the same woman, though his best friend doesn’t know it. Wynne-Candy, ever the gentleman, simply withdraws from the running, allowing his friend to court and marry the woman. This becomes his life’s one real regret. This is startlingly clear as we soon realize that, in a daring bit of casting, Deborah Kerr plays his lost love, then goes on to subsequently play every woman that plays a large part in Wynne-Candy’s life. The message is clear, in the face of every woman he cares about, he only sees the one that he lost. Or, more specifically, the one he gave away.

Then there’s the military side of the film. As Wynne-Candy steadily moves up the ranks, he learns about battle and victory. However, in his experience, there is always honor, even in the most bloody of battles. Both sides seem to know this code, and abide by it.

However, once the Nazis come into power, all of this no longer matters. Coming up against an enemy that will invade other countries with no warning, that is willing to commit mass murder against civilians, Wynne-Candy’s decades of experience amounts to nothing.

Now an old man, with a large belly, a bald head, and a bushy mustache, we finally get the “Colonel Blimp” image. Blustering about how victory means nothing without honor, and how we must not stoop to the level of the enemy to win, Wynne-Candy is mocked by his subordinates. He is eventually appointed the head of the military training facility, far from battle, essentially brushed away to a place of no consequence.

As Wynne-Candy contemplates his now-obsolete views, we feel sorry for him. What a thing it must be to be completely irrelevent, particularly when, previously, one was a well-respected and sought-after resource.

And, yet, it brings up interesting questions about war. Is victory really worth anything without honor? Perhaps not. But, what about when coming up against true evil? Should one be willing to do anything to stop it, even if it means stooping to their level?

It never answers these questions; probably because the question is unanswerable. However, in the days of terrorism and fear, the question is more important than ever. This film manages to do what so few movies can; it creates strong characters and tells their specific stories, while at the same time exploring a theme that is just as relevant today as it was when it was made.

It’s exactly the kind of movie that everybody should see, but few people actually do.