"Wait and see"

Rating: 10/10 (5 November 2009)

In the period immediately after the close of the Second World War, motion pictures that dealt directly with combat situations did not tend to do very well, especially with the veterans themselves. The subject matter was still too painful to face up to, not to mention the fact that any inaccuracies or falseness in tone would be grossly disrespectful. Even when dealing with post-war issues there was still a lot that could be got wrong in terms of credibility, respectfulness and relevance. With the Best Years of Our Lives they just went and got everything right.
So how do you do go about casting three homecoming war vets at a time when virtually all your audience either was a recently returned vet or was related to one? Do you bring in dedicated professionals who pour everything into a role to totally become their characters? Or do you get familiar character players whom audiences will know and trust, and perhaps see a bit of themselves in? What we actually have is Fredric March, a well-meaning ham who hit his peak in the early years of the talkies, Dana Andrews, a leading man from a handful of genre-movies, but not what you'd call an impressive dramatic actor, and Harold Russell, a genuine disabled veteran with no previous acting experience. But all three turn in perfect performances, from Russell's wordless agonising and pent-up frustration to March's believable and endearing drunk act, and too many other highlights to mention.
Why do these three very different performers all work equally well in this picture? Well, firstly they are all intelligent men, able to draw upon their experiences as well as to realise the seriousness of the subject matter. Secondly, these guys have been filmed in such as way as to show off their performances to the best and to make them fit into the story. This is the sort of thing director William Wyler was very good at, and I'm going to ramble on about it at length because it is fascinating but goes unnoticed by most viewers.
Now, film convention says that if two characters are talking to one another, you either have the camera to one side, showing them both in profile, or you cut back and forth between them in opposing camera angles. In the opening scene there are a couple of shots where one of the protagonists is talking to someone behind a desk, but Wyler doesn't use either of the angles just mentioned. He just keeps the camera behind the desk, so regardless of which is talking we only see the face of the main character. This way we get to witness both the speech and the reaction of the protagonist, and we aren't distracted by having the face of someone who is little more than an extra brought to our attention. A more elaborate version of this comes when we briefly meet the character Woody Merrill (Victor Cutler), Theresa Wright's replacement date when she is trying to get Dana Andrews out of her head. While it would be difficult and look a bit odd to only show us the back of his head, Wyler is careful to make sure he is never too close to the camera, and that we always see him in profile, never square on. This stops us paying too much attention to him or seeing his emotions. It gives us no chance to sympathise or identify with him, and allows us to believe in the romance between Andrews and Wright.
So this is how Wyler stops us getting distracted by the less important players – but how does he focus us on the more important ones? Again by breaking with cinematic convention. For example, moments such as kisses and embraces are "supposed" to be shown in extreme close-up, but Wyler often shows these in long shot. This is because he knows sometimes it is more powerful to show peoples' body language than their facial expressions. Of course, Wyler does use close-ups, as well cutting between opposing angles when two characters are talking, but he uses these sparingly and only when absolutely needed. Whenever he is not using one of these techniques, he generally keeps the camera in one position without cuts, allowing the action to play out naturally. Thus when he does move in to one of these more dramatic angles, it has greater impact, and you really take notice and feel that something is going on.
And that is more or less all there is to it. For a picture that is nigh on three hours long, there aren't very many characters and the action only really takes place over a few weeks. And yet it is never boring. In a way it's a bit like another wonderful feature from the same year, It's a Wonderful Life, in that it paints a picture of a world that is so believable and recognizable, and yet seems strangely idyllic, and more like we wish our world could be. I for one wish my world included a bar where I could chat about my problems to Hoagy Carmichael while he played piano. You see, it's a picture that spoke directly to audiences of its time, and can still speak directly to audiences of today.