Tag: World War II

Film Review: Where Eagles Dare

So a glance at the TV guide yesterday and I happened to notice it was on. And like an ‘aholic’ of some kind, I simply couldn’t help myself. The number of times I’ve watched this 1968 WWII classic over the years must be close to double figures now. But I was on my own so there was nobody around to roll their eyes and tell me in a slightly derogatory tone how sad I was being. Having said that, even if there had been someone around to point that out, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. For honestly, I simply cannot help it. It’s a corker of movie – real ‘Boy’s Own’ stuff.

Sure it’s got its flaws, I know that but what movie hasn’t. If you wanted to point out its errors and inaccuracies you’d probably end up with a list as long as your arm but if you just want to be entertained, taken on an action-packed adventure that’s as spectacular to look at as it is intriguing to comprehend then it has everything: fabulous alpine scenery, an enthralling plot, an accompanying soundtrack that stirs and soars and a fine cast headed by two compelling leads – Richard Burton at his grim, authoritative best and Clint Eastwood, as laconic and relaxed as you’ll ever see him. Burton was already well on his way to legendhood (I know there’s no such word but perhaps there should be) at the time of filming and Eastwood was riding the wave of success following a fistful of hit westerns. It’s difficult now to imagine Eastwood playing second fiddle to anyone (post Rawhide) but here he seems quite happy to let Burton take command. And take command he does. His gruff acting stance and inherent screen presence is the backbone of the ensemble and there are one or two moments where he delivers his lines with that sublime baritone of his that’ll either remind you of warm honey or a serrated blade. Other fine performances from the cast come from Anton Diffring as Colonel Kramer, Derren Nesbitt as Major Von Happen, Michael Hordern as Vice Admiral Rolland and Patrick Wymark as Colonel Turner.

By 1968, (the year of this film’s UK release) Alistair MacLean had enjoyed significant success with a number of thrilling adventure novels and with The Guns of Navarone having been made into a box office hit in 1961, it was Burton who approached film producer Elliott Kastner for ideas who in turn persuaded MacLean to write something in a similar vein to Navarone with Burton in mind. It was MacLean’s first screenplay with a title taken from a line of Shakespeare’s Richard III (Act I, Scene III – “The world is grown so bad, that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch”) and he wrote it in tandem with the novel. The screenplay differs slightly, the characters are less defined, less humorous and more brutal but only to give the cinema audience what they craved. Action, violence and bullets! (Indeed, in all of Eastwood’s films and all the ‘blowing away’ of bad guys he’s done over his long career, this is the film with his highest body count.)

Brian G. Hutton took on the task of directing and he was a man who, at that point in his career had spent more time in front of the camera than behind it. His only other notable work as director (and there are only a total of nine) is another Eastwood led film set during WWII – Kelly’s Heroes – which was made in 1970.

The pacing of Where Eagles Dare is brisk rather than rapid and at two and a half hours, it’s quite a long film (some would argue a tad too long) but Hutton builds the tension masterfully and spreads the action so that there never seems to be a dull moment. As I said earlier the high alpine scenery is just breathtaking and cinematographer Arthur Ibbetson, whose other credits include Whistle Down the Wind (1961) and The Railway Children (1970) captured this magnificently. Snow covered mountains and dense forests of fir have rarely looked more enticing.

Ron Goodwin who scored over 70 films during a fifty year career including Battle of Britain (1969) and 633 Squadron (1964) gives us arguably his most memorable one here. It’s a simple military-sounding theme with variations that run throughout the entire film and it’s made up of an orchestra of quivering strings, rolling drums and soaring brass. There’s no doubt it intensifies one’s enjoyment and adds mood to the scenes in a similar way to perhaps Bernard Hermann’s score to North by Northwest or Elmer Bernstein’s The Magnificent Seven. The music seems to lift us up to that high alpine village, to draw our eyes up to that mountaintop castle with its cable car and to worry our nerves like an ever-present threat of being captured or killed.

The film opens sometime during the winter of ’43-’44 and an elite group of British commandos led by Major John Smith (Burton) and one U.S. Army Ranger Lieutenant Morris Schaffer (Eastwood) are preparing to jump out of a plane over the Bavarian Alps. In a brief flashback we learn of their identities and their mission. To infiltrate a mountaintop castle, the Schloss Adler, and rescue a captured U.S. Army Brigadier General who holds crucial information about the Allied planned invasion of northern Europe – hopefully before the Germans have a chance to interrogate him. But even as the parachutists assemble from their scattered landing positions, knee deep in the thick snow, it becomes apparent that there’s a traitor amongst them. The group’s radio operator didn’t survive the jump and Smith quickly realises that it wasn’t the fall that killed him.

At this early stage there’s an overwhelming sense of mystery about the group as it becomes apparent that Smith isn’t telling the rest of them everything – for instance, he is the only one who’s aware that an MI6 agent Mary Elison (Mary Ure) accompanied them on the plane and jumped out soon after all the men did. He is also the only one aware of another MI6 agent named Heidi (Ingrid Pitt) operating in deep-cover as a barmaid in the village close by the castle. Both women have crucial roles to play in the mission.

And so the scene is set. A rescue mission by British commandos on a mountaintop castle accessible only via a cable car with the aim to prevent the plans of D-Day becoming known to the enemy. But with MI6 involved, agents and double agents, is the mission all it seems?

For a brief moment I was reminded of another film I reviewed recently – I Was Monty’s Double – but I won’t say why just in case you’ve not had the pleasure yet. I’ll let you figure that out for yourselves if and when. And I strongly recommend when.

For me, there’s much to like about this Alistair MacLean written yarn, hence why I’ve seen it as many times as I have. And it’s clear I’m not the only one. There’s an unofficial website for the film on which I’ve just read this little snippet of info – Steven Spielberg admitted in a Channel 4 survey of the top 100 war films that this is his favourite. The film also has its own Facebook page with over 55,000 likes. Not that any of this makes a difference, of course for it’s all down to what we as individuals like. And I for one like and will continue to like (and most likely watch) Where Eagles Dare.

 

 

 

Film Review: The Longest Day (and a D-Day Remembrance)

It’s fitting that I bring this movie up now because as I’m sure anyone who’s watched the news or read a newspaper this last week will realise, today is the 70th anniversary of this most indelible event.

6 June 1944. D-Day. The commencement of the Normandy landings and the subsequent Allied invasion of Normandy. It remains the largest seaborne invasion in history and it led to the restoration of the French Republic and the defeat of Nazi Germany.

With even the youngest of veterans from the Normandy campaign now being in their late 80s, it’s perhaps little wonder that the number of those making the pilgrimage across the channel this year for the 70th anniversary has prompted the Normandy Veterans Association to declare this their final official commemoration of the event. It plans to disband in November owing to dwindling numbers and the increased difficulty of its remaining members to travel. The association, which was set up in the 1980s, had 16,000 members by the 1990s however, five years ago that number had fallen to around 4,500 and now the number is closer to 600. And while this is sad but ultimately inevitable, I don’t imagine it will be the end of our commemorating this epic undertaking. And epic it was.

While The Longest Day may be a flawed movie, it does a fair job of depicting the scale of the operation. It was, after all, a multi-national effort on behalf of the Allies and required careful coordination between all three branches of the armed forces, as well as the French resistance networks. There are many threads running through the near three hour run time showing us as much detail of the operation as time allows. We see numerous individual companies and battalions tasked with their own objectives, the success of each one vital to the next. We see the efforts of the Resistance putting explosives to good use and we also get a perspective from the German side which shows us that some incompetence on their part undoubtably contributed to the final outcome. The truth is (and this is where there are literally hundreds of fascinating individual stories), if it weren’t for a whole host of other factors such as sabotage by the Resistance, misinformation (planned by an organisation called the London Controlling Section) and bad decision making by the Nazis the outcome could have been very different.

Indeed to properly appreciate the complexities of the battle of Normandy would mean to remember everything (and everyone involved) that happened from the moment a cross channel invasion had been given the go ahead at the Trident Conference in Washington in May 1943 to the Liberation of Paris on 25 August 1944.

But this film is limited to the 6th June. D-Day. The Longest Day.

One of the film’s tag-lines reads – 42 International Stars!

And it’s not difficult to name them as they appear on screen – Henry Fonda, Robert Ryan, John Wayne, Richard Burton, Sean Connery…etc, etc. The list really does go on. And on.

But for me, the stars (and let’s not forget some of them actually fought in WWII) are less important than the story itself. Having said that, if you want to watch a serious account of D-Day, you’ll really have to watch a documentary of which I’m sure there are plenty. You could even go one step further and plan a visit, take in a museum or two and put yourself on the same ground that saw that terrible action all those years ago. Trust me, it meddles with your emotions.

Okay, so this is part film review and part a salute to what was undoubtably one of the most important operations of the entire Second World War. But a film review it is, so…

With the help of four other writers, The Longest Day was adapted for the screen by Cornelius Ryan from his own book of the same name which had been an instant hit upon release in 1959. Ryan was an Irish journalist and author of several books on World War II whose interest in the D-Day invasion began during a trip to Normandy in 1949. He also wrote A Bridge Too Far in 1974 which was given the movie treatment in ’77.

The Longest Day had no less than five directors, each responsible for a particular section. Ken Annakin directed the British and French exteriors, Andrew Marton, the American exteriors, Gerd Oswald, the parachute drop and Bernard Wicki, the German scenes. Producer Darryl F. Zanuck was an uncredited fifth director.

Because it was made only 18 years after the actual events portrayed, many of those who participated were still alive and therefore the producers employed several generals and high-ranking officers from both sides as military consultants. Curiously, one of them was Lucie Rommel, widow of Erwin Rommel. It won Oscars for Black and White Cinematography and Special Effects and was nominated thrice more.

The film divides opinion. Some like it, some loathe it. There are others movies (and an excellent HBO TV series) that depict D-Day and they may be more explicit and graphic in their action but they aren’t as concentrated on that fateful day and therefore don’t quite capture the immensity of the event.

That these 80 and 90 year old heroes continue to return to the northern shores of France, to the scenes that shaped the rest of their lives and likely still haunt their dreams is nothing short of inspiring. Many of them are accompanied by their families and friends, younger people who will hopefully keep the spirit of the campaign alive for generations to come.

Yesterday a TV reporter asked one of the veterans why he feels the need to keep coming back and as the old soldier’s voice cracked and his eyes pooled, he replied that he comes back to pay his respects to the friends that fell beside him and all those others who didn’t make it home.

God bless them all.

 

 

 

Film Review: I Was Monty’s Double

Based on the book of the same name by M.E. Clifton James, this movie is less interesting than the true story it tells. Having said that, It’s still an exciting and enjoyable way to spend an hour and a half.

First the story.

After serving in World War I, Meyrick Edward Clifton James, an Australian by birth, took up acting. Music halls and theatres were his workshop. When the Second World War kicked off he volunteered in the British Army as an entertainer but instead of getting assigned to the Entertainments National Service Association, which would have seen him touring for the troops, he was posted into the Royal Army Pay Corps and eventually stationed in Leicester where his acting was limited to the Pay Corps Drama and Variety Group. Minor stuff indeed.

But James had an attribute that would elevate him onto the world’s stage and make him go down in history. He bared a uncanny resemblance to General Bernard Montgomery.

It was while appearing briefly in a show dressed as ‘Monty’ that he was spotted by a British Lieutenant-Colonel, J.V.B. Jervis-Reid, and with D-Day less than two months away, MI5 decided to take a risk on the resemblance and cooked up a plan to confuse the Germans.

James was invited to London to meet Lieutenant-Colonel David Niven (yes, that one) of the Army’s film unit on the pretext of appearing in a film. Once the officials were convinced with his likeness to Monty, he was told the real reason for his summons.

Operation Copperhead, would see James assigned to Montgomery’s staff in order that he may learn his speech and his mannerisms. James had to quit drinking and smoking and, having lost the middle finger of his right hand during the First World War, a prosthetic one was made for him.

This ruse was part of a wider deception known as Operation Bodyguard, which intended to confuse the Germans as to the exact date and location of an invasion. One of these deceptions was that an Allied invasion of Southern France (Operation Dragoon) would precede the D-Day landings. The objective was clear; to keep as much of the German Army away from Normandy as possible.

On 25 May 1944, less than two weeks before D-Day, James (as Monty) flew to Gibraltar on Winston Churchill’s private plane to attend a reception at the Govenor-General’s house and later on to Algiers for several public appearances. The Allies knew that German intelligence agents would spot this high-profile Allied commander and report his whereabouts to the German high command. And Montgomery appearing in North Africa, for talks about ‘Plan 303’ a (fake) plan to invade Southern France, meant he wasn’t concentrating on a possible invasion in the north.

James, who apparently did not enjoy the assignment due to the pressures of the objective, was then secretly flown to Cairo where he remained until Operation Overlord (the invasion of Normandy) was well under way.

Reports on the value of Operation Copperhead are unclear but suggest that it had little impact on the Germans. However, taken as part of the wider Operation Bodyguard, it was a resounding success. The Germans in Normandy were taken by surprise and there was a considerable delay in reinforcements reaching the area from the Calais region.

That’s the story.

Now for the film.

This 1958 John Mills vehicle follows the account fairly well. Mills, who is always worth watching, plays Major Harvey, the intelligence agent who sees ‘Monty’ on a London stage and devises the plan with the help of his boss Colonel Logan (Cecil Parker). M.E. Clifton James (playing himself) is doubtful he can pull off such a deception but is persuaded to anyway.

Under the disguise of a corporal, he spends several days at Montgomery’s headquarters to learn the general’s mannerisms and speech patterns and is then flown off to tour North Africa.

It’s all quite exciting and there’s a little humour injected into proceedings too as well as some nice tension. But towards the end, the film strays from the truth when there is a bungled kidnap attempt made on James once his job is done and he’s resting securely at a heavily guarded villa. Dramatic licence of course but still entertaining.

The film was directed by John Guillermin, who would go on to direct The Bridge at Remagen (1969) and The Towering Inferno (1974) among others and the story was adapted by Bryan Forbes, the acclaimed director, writer, producer and actor whose credits include Whistle Down the Wind (1961) and The Stepford Wives (1975).

All in, this is a great little film and it tells a terrific story. M.E. Clifton James must have had great courage to take on such a role and I’m glad the film remains to honour him as I’m not sure his story is that well known.

The Second World War is littered with these amazing tales of disinformation such as my previously written review, ‘The Man Who Never Was’ which concerned Operation Mincemeat. Some of the ruses dreamed up were (and still are) absolutely fantastic and the fact that the enemy fell for many of them, shows just how ingenious they were.

 

Classic TV Review: Secret Army

For anyone who may have cast an inquisitive or nostalgic eye over my review for the TV show Colditz last September, this piece will probably come as no surprise. I did, after all, say it was highly likely I would bring this show up again. Classic British TV pretty much sums Secret Army up.

It was created by Gerard Glaister (that’s the link with Colditz) jointly by the BBC and the Belgian BRT (now VRT) and it originally aired between September ’77 and December ’79 just about at the time my parents ushered me off to bed. I can well remember being awed by – and a little bit afraid of – the atmospheric and rather bleak opening titles and that wonderful, almost Rachmaninoff-like theme tune which does such a fine job of setting the tone for the show. Alan Jeapes, whose other credits include Eastenders, won a BAFTA for his efforts with these opening (and presumably closing) titles while Robert Farnon, who also wrote the music for more than forty films including Captain Horatio Hornblower R.N. gave us the theme tune.

Secret Army is a story about a fictional resistance movement in Belgium during the Second World War called ‘Lifeline’. Loosely based on the real life ‘Comet line’ which helped allied soldiers and airmen return to Britain via France and Spain and on through Gibraltar, there is a realism to the show that makes it totally engaging. Indeed, Glaister, who was an RAF pilot during the war and would later be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his services as a photo reconnaissance pilot in the Western Desert, drew on his experiences as inspiration for the series.

The Café Candide is the main setting of the show and it is run by Albert Foiret (Bernard Hepton) and acts as the hub for the characters. It is the Rovers Return (apologies for another soap reference) of the show, where meetings take place and information is passed that drives the plots. The café is situated somewhere around Brussels where the locals as well as the occupying Nazi forces frequent the place while Albert covertly helps Lisa Colbert (Jan Francis) – a doctor’s assistant by day and a leader of the resistance by night – run ‘Lifeline’. Other members of this ‘secret army’ abound such as the waitress Natalie (Juliet Hammond-Hill) and Albert’s mistress Monique (Angela Richards). If this scenario is beginning to ring bells, then those bells are most probably chiming the theme tune to the sitcom ‘Allo ‘Allo!, which was a hugely popular but dare I say it, rather idiotic, parody of Secret Army, which ran from 1982-92.

The rest of the characters are either locals, fellow collaborators like S.O.E. Officer Flight Lieutenant John Curtis (Christopher Neame), Nazis or allied officers trying to get back to Blighty and it’s the job of the resistance to make that happen. Of course, there would be no tension if there wasn’t the opposing force and therefore, it’s the job of Major Brandt (Michael Culver) and Sturmbannführer Ludwig Kessler (Clifford Rose) to capture every single evader, unearth every safe-house and to close down the evasion line. And therein lies the game of cat and mouse, the show’s recipe for excitement, as one side always tries to gain the upper hand on the other. But it’s a game that costs lives.

I can’t tell you what happens to the characters as the show progresses through its 43 episodes (3 seasons) because I haven’t seen them all yet. But what I have seen has been enough to make me cross my fingers and hope that it gets a rerun on TV soon. There’s nothing gratuitous in the writing, as there is with many contemporary shows; it’s just damn fine storytelling inspired by real-life events. In fact, according to the trivia on IMDB, every one of the scripts were based on real events and thoroughly researched to the point that on more than one occasion, the BBC had to reject a script on the basis that it was deemed too accurate and therefore potentially upsetting to audiences or too politically sensitive. How’s that for reality TV.

 

Film Review: Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison

Take two of Hollywood’s biggest stars and one of its finest directors, plonk them on a lush tropical island surrounded by rocky outcrops and rolling waves and arm them with an interesting script. What is the likely outcome? A damn fine movie, that’s what. Certainly in this case, it is.

I’m always fascinated by a film with a minimal cast. The actors involved have an even greater weight of responsibility than usual in that there’s no one else for the audience to focus on. On the other hand, there are no other performers to point the finger at if the thing tanks. For the actors, it must be both terrifying and supremely massaging to their egos. “You mean I’m in virtually every shot? Yes! That’s just what my fans will want. Of course I’ve got the talent and the screen presence to pull it off. How dare you suggest otherwise!”

Fortunately, the talent in this 1957 John Huston classic is without question. Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr – two gifted actors who apparently clicked immediately and went on to enjoy a lifelong friendship.

Mitchum plays US Marine, Corporal Allison who, after several days adrift in a rubber raft following a skirmish with the Japanese, finds himself washed up on an island in the South Pacific during the Second World War. A quick scout around reveals the island to be abandoned save for Sister Angela, a young nun played by Kerr, who has been there just a few days following a failed attempt to evacuate the priest already there. At first, Allison is relieved to be on the island where there is plenty of fish and fruit to eat and shelter from the tropical weather. He admits its not a bad place to wait out the war. But it isn’t long before a detachment of Japanese return to the island to set up a meteorological camp thereby forcing the Marine and the nun to hide out in a cave up in the surrounding hills.

There’s a wonderfully tense scene some time later when, sympathetic towards Sister Angela’s inability to eat the raw fish that he catches, Allison sneaks into the Japanese camp one night to steal something more palatable for her. It’s a beautifully shot and paced sequence by a master of cinematic storytelling – nothing fancy, nothing over the top, just measured excitement.

Meanwhile, the nights remind them that the war continues as flashes of naval gunfire light up the horizon. Then one day, the Japanese leave the island as quickly as they had come and the two celebrate their unexpected liberty.  Allison gets drunk on a bottle of sake left behind by a Japanese officer and foolishly declares his love for Sister Angela as well as denouncing her holy devotion as a waste of time. His natural urges rising to the surface, he can’t see why their “Garden of Paradise” situation doesn’t become fully instinctive – if you know what I mean. Sister Angela runs away from him and spends the night outside in a storm, becoming sick as a result. The following morning, Allison, full of repentance and shame, finds her with a fever at the same time the Japanese return to the island. Once again they are forced to seek refuge in the cave. Allison, feeling completely responsible for Sister Angela’s condition,  sneaks into the Japanese camp again to get blankets for her but he has to knife a solider to death when he is discovered. This alerts the detachment to an enemy presence and consequently, they begin a thorough search of the island.

To find out what happens next, I’ll encourage – nay recommend – you to watch the film yourself.

The two leads (and for ninety-five percent of the film you’ll see nobody else) are just perfectly cast and they own their time on screen. Between them, they’ve made many great movies and would go on to make two more together (The Sundowners and The Grass Is Greener – both in 1960). They’ve both given numerous wonderful performances as well over their careers and I don’t think either ever gave a better performance than they did here. Mitchum’s Marine is big and bruising, capable of dishing out death and yet kind and tender too; a simple man but a decent one; a product of a childhood he’d rather forget. Kerr’s nun is slightly naive but more uncertain, devout to her vows – of which the final one she has still to take – and yet teetering on the edge of uncertainty that she’s got what it takes to go all the way. Is she ready to forsake her womanhood for the greater calling? Both characters have chosen their paths and both have sworn oaths to tread them but will the time together on the island make a difference?

As if Mitchum or Kerr weren’t strong enough reasons to give this film a viewing, the director must surely tip the scales. From the moment John Huston sat behind the camera and gave us The Maltese Falcon in 1941, he revealed a certain brilliance and while Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison might not be his finest hour, it’s likely a film that many of his contemporaries would have wanted to helm.  It was adapted from Charles Shaw’s novel of the same name by Huston and John Lee Mahin, a prolific screenwriter who penned numerous classics between the 30s and the 60s, among them, Captains Courageous (1937) and Showboat (1951). The island of Trinidad and Tobago where the film was shot was photographed by Oswald Morris, a cinematographer who’s career would span six decades and include a long list of gems like Moby Dick (1956) and The Man Who Would Be King (1975). Naturally, the setting is stunning and one can only imagine the times had by all on location. Deborah Kerr and the writing team of Huston and Mahin were nominated for Academy Awards and there were a handful of other nominations throughout that season but the only win it garnered was for Kerr at the ’57 New York Film Critics Circle Awards. Shame that, because while Mitchum earned a BAFTA nomination, his performance generally seemed to have been overlooked. But then being the kind of guy he was, he probably didn’t give a damn anyway.

 

Film Review: A Town Like Alice

I’m not sure what I was expecting when, a few days ago, I sat down to watch this film. It was one I’d heard of but never before given a viewing for whatever reason. The title suggests something domestic and perhaps slightly delicate and pretty and yet the blurb on the TV guide said it was a WW2 drama starring Virginia McKenna and Peter Finch. So after two hours of well-crafted cinema, intrigue became enlightenment and awe.

A Town Like Alice is a gripping 1956 British drama film based on the book of the same name by Nevil Shute. It tells the harrowing story of a group of women and children forced to march hundreds of miles across Malaya from village to village by the occupying Japanese forces who refuse to take responsibility for them. It is at once awful to witness the hardship and suffering the group has to endure and yet uplifting to behold the strength of the human spirit in times of woe.

The film opens with Jean Paget (played by Virginia McKenna), in a London solicitor’s office shortly after the war. The solicitor informs her that she has a large inheritance and, asked what she wants to do, Jean decides to go to Malaya to build a well in a small village. As work gets under way, she recalls her three years of living in the village and the journey she endured to get there during the war.

Flashback to 1942 and Jean is working in an office in Kuala Lumpur when the Japanese invade and take everyone prisoner. The men are sent off to labour camps and the women and children are told they must walk to a women’s camp fifty miles away. Jean being fluent in Malay, is therefore a prominent figure within the group and helps arrange the acquisition of food and medicines they require from the locals. But after an arduous march in unbearable heat and mosquito infested swamps, the women are told by the camp commanders that they are not wanted and are therefore forced to march on in search of another camp. And so their journey continues with disease and danger always close behind.

Along the way, the group meets young Australian soldier, Joe Harman (Peter Finch), also a prisoner of war, who drives a truck for the Japanese. He and Jean quickly forge a friendship and often meet behind their guard’s back to share a cigarette and swap stories. It is here that he tells her about his hometown of Alice Springs and this is where the story’s title comes from. Joe is appalled by the suffering the group has to endure and helps them by stealing food and medical supplies from his Japanese captors. However, a theft of chickens is investigated and with Jean being the initial suspect, Joe confesses his guilt to save her and the rest of the group. For his troubles, he is beaten and crucified to a tree and left to die. The women are forced to march away but a while later, when their guard dies, Jean begs that the group be allowed to stay in a village where they will gladly work and become part of the community. This they do until the end of the war when they are repatriated.

Returning to the present day in the village where the well is being built, Jean learns that Joe Harman didn’t die against that tree and that he survived the war and returned to Australia. She therefore travels there to search for him. Likewise, he travels to London in search of her and after some disappointment, the two finally meet in the airport at Alice Springs. Very moving it is too.

This is where the film differs from the book because where the cinematic story ends, the novel continues to explore Jean’s new life in the Australian outback and examines all the joys and difficulties that that throws up.

The film was shot mainly at Pinewood studios although some exteriors were filmed in Malaya and Australia. It was directed by Jack Lee (arguably his best known work) and distributed by The Rank Organisation. It was the third most popular film at the British box office in 1956 and won BAFTAs for both McKenna and Finch. Give it a look and you’ll see why. Their performances are faultless. But then, the same could be said of the entire cast. The film itself was nominated too as was the screenplay. The pacing is spot on – your attention and interest in the characters never wanes – and the look of the film is frighteningly real.

All in all, an incredible tale of triumph over adversity – a great film made from a great novel.