You often hear of propaganda films made during the second world war, but most see it as a nefarious tool used by the Nazis to brainwash their citizenry. They had many purposes: to solidify the idea that your side was ‘right’, that the other side was ‘wrong’, to reassure that the outcome of the war would be positive, to remind the people of what they were fighting for, that it was well worth the fight, to make you feel part of a common cause, to create affinity with your ‘side’, to dehumanise the others… well, Mrs Miniver was a film that ticked all these boxes and was made by the allies for an allied audience.

This film was made for the American public in particular and the purpose was all of the above, but had the specific purpose of wanting to create an affinity between the British and American people. It gently massages in the idea that ‘yes, they have a class system we chuckle at and even disapprove of, but it is a system that works in its own way and is infinitely better than the National Socialism of the Nazis.

You will have no doubt heard of Joseph Goebbels- the propaganda minister for the Reich, and father of the relentless political propaganda machine of the Nazis- on seeing this film he was moved to write that Mrs Miniver “shows the destiny of a family during the current war, and its refined powerful propagandistic tendency has up to now only been dreamed of. There is not a single angry word spoken against Germany; nevertheless the anti-German tendency is perfectly accomplished.” He is no doubt the best judge of what this film accomplished in the political sphere.

'These are the good guys and well worth the US joining the fight for. They are really just like you and I.’ Some forget that the Americans joined the war late, the Brits were already isolated from the mainland and it really did appear to be just a matter of time before a final assault would be made. But in the States there was much debate as to whether it was in the American interest to be involved at all. Mrs Miniver was made to ensure that the public were onboard with the battle for Europe.

We are taken through a number of classic WW2 movie tropes. From the breakout of war announced to the congregation by a vicar in a quaint village church, through Mrs Miniver (played by Greer Garson) and her tight-knit family. Eldest son (Vincent/Vin, played by Richard Ney) signing up to the airforce and proposing to his beloved (an 18 year old aristocrat from the local manor) the same night he is called up, quickly followed by her husband (Clem - Walter Pidgeon) being called to take his preposterously small launch to help in the evacuation of Dunkirk.

There are many scenes which stand out, which earned this film the best picture Oscar. One highlight of the film is undoubtedly Mrs Miniver’s encounter with a grounded German pilot who has evaded capture while the men are away. In this 10 minute segment the dialogue is sparse and no music is used whatsoever. This is not only unusual for the time but also unusual for the rest of the film- so often films bluntly dictated the mood with their use of a soundtrack, but here the only sound we hear beyond the German pilot’s barking of orders and Mrs Miniver’s calm, fearful responses are the occasional creak of wooden chairs and kitchen floorboards, at one point interrupted by the milkman’s whistle as he goes about his business. The silence lifts the tension and ensures that you realise just how alone they are together: ANYTHING could happen, and you wonder how it might end. It is an iconic wartime scene put together beautifully to leave a powerful impression.

​The film rolls on through the war and Vincent Miniver marries his sweetheart. The Battle of Britain also features heavily with Vincent in constant peril. But the threat is not limited to the skies. The Miniver’s cower in their Anderson Air Raid Shelter as it is shaken by bombs falling all around them, the children crying… it is impossible not to feel for this civilian family, not to worry for their wellbeing. Again the soundtrack is absent, but for the seemingly interminable whistling and crashing of bombs.

​The propaganda works. It is a movie that makes you want to jump in and help, to make it all just go away for them. But it doesn’t all just go away. The victims of this war are not depicted to be just those who choose to fight, but the innocent too.

The final scene is the one you are meant to leave with. It is a speech given from the pulpit by the vicar who although ostensibly addressing his congregation is in fact addressing the people of the United States. Behind him is what is left of the north church wall, his roof in pieces around him. The pulpit stands, but is exposed to the elements. He vows on the people’s behalf to fight on, but they are vulnerable. “There is scarcely a household that hasn’t been struck to the heart…why should these be the ones to suffer? Are these our soldiers… our fighters? This is not only a war of soldiers in uniform. It is a war of the people. Of ALL of the people.” It echoes Churchill’s “on the beaches” speech, speaking of the battle needing to be fought by “every man, woman and child who loves freedom”.

If you are to watch one film made during the war about the home front, this is it. It is somewhat theatrical, but this is where the style belongs: in the depiction of the British and their ‘stiff upper lip’. The emotion comes across as heartfelt, and it is exactly how the brits would have wanted to be depicted: sympathetically and with admiration for an idiosyncratic way of life lived by so few, but which has defined the nation for so long.

Filmed during World War two "Going my way" is a movie that the great Bing Crosby  drove all the way to the Oscar ceremony where it won 8 Academy Awards, including the Best Picture.

This Crosby vehicle is a simple tale of a New York church where the incumbent ageing priest has a loose grip on goings on. O’Malley is sent by the bishop to balance the books and tend to a congregation who need direction from someone with a spring in their step, although they don't know it. Yet.

Swinging his way from scene to scene in a straw boater hat cocked to one side, he plays Father O’Malley: a young priest blessed with a casual demeanour and irreverent charm that the 'squares' just don't understand. The existing Priest at O’Malley’s new parish appears at first to be immune to his persuasive powers- however, old timer Father Fitzgibbon's (Barry Fitzgerald) icy resistance is sure to melt before too long. I’m sure you get the picture.

​This picture doesn’t hold back. From the opening shot of anguished glances out of a bedroom window and music designed to make you feel deeply uneasy you know that this is no run of the mill drama. This is noir.

Billy Wilder wrote and directed this, and you can see the hand of a master at work on a passion project. He wrote this with a writer friend and colleague in mind (a certain Raymond Chandler), someone he felt could do with seeing himself and his alcoholism as others did. Don Birnam (Ray Milland) is a man whose master is drink, is only happy when taking orders from the bottle and people just seem to get in his way.

The detail in each shot, street scenes shot with hidden cameras to ensure that they could have real life passing by, no extras, no stiffness. Wilder sought naturalism, a flow, which although he perfected later in films such as ‘Some Like it Hot’ he was already well on the way. He was an innovator, too- taking a risk in allowing a new electronic instrument which would haunt many a film after this, the theremin. It dominates the score with a suffocating sense of foreboding and tied in the magical dark influence of alcohol on Don. The director also introduced what appeared to be an early version of a new shot: as Don walks down the road you see superimposed behind and around him the places he drunkenly stumbles past, copied countless times in cinema and TV since.

Ray Milland’s performance is tense and tight when sober, perhaps overly so, but entirely successful in portraying the constant battle against the urge to drink or for his next drink, depending on which way he sways. When drunk he eases into a smoother, lilting performance with a touch of melancholy, aptly reflecting his resignation to yet another defeat, yet another time where he felt he simply wasn’t strong enough.

Much like alcoholism, the film ebbs and flows. This film has a feel of the sea, the rocking, the relentless power of the disease, unstoppable even when the three principles are on rare occasions united against it. This is undoubtedly a compassionate film which can be commended for showing the alcoholic as a victim of a disease: simultaneously being the only one with the power to free themselves while also being the last person they themselves would want to give that power to. The attitudes depicted in the film are shockingly modern- I say shocking because this film, made nearly 80(!) years ago shows how despite all our advances in therapy, technology and medicine people suffer in much the same way from the sickness and the attitudes towards it. They are also still surrounded by loved ones who also suffer, willing but helpless, sometimes depicted unwittingly, haplessly enabling the addiction.

I have found a few films from early cinema where the melodrama distracts from the story, that the storytelling might have been aided for a modern audience with a little more naturalism (All Quiet on the Western Front is one). Here the story’s effect is heightened by the melodramatic acting style- film noir is often built on it, and it is so woven into the fabric of this picture that it only adds to the power it still holds over its audience. 

Although the credits roll, we are left in no doubt that the tale doesn’t end there. This is one of 52 weekends that year and Don will have to fight for every last one of them. The message sent is one of hope, but doesn’t leave reality behind. It may be that if we keep up the fight, side by side, there are more victories than defeats. But no guarantees, and this is a battle for life.

We’re with you Don, it was Wilder who put us there, and I am grateful he did.

With thanks to Tom Gore who requested this review