User reviews

Neither war films nor romances rate amongst my favourite film genres. Colonel Blimp is both of these and has to rate as my runaway favourite film. Made in 1943 by the irreplaceable icons of British film making Powell and Pressburger it displays a pacy breathless brilliance since unparalleled on the big screen.

The film follows the life and times of General Wynne-Candy from when he is an idealistic young officer returned on leave from the Boer War through to his retirement as an anachronistic and obdurate Major General.

The film is structured in three acts set in the aftermath of the Boer War, the first world war and the present (at the time of making the film) the height of the 2nd World War. But it is not just an examination of these conflicts. Its real power lies in Candy's pursuit of his ideal woman throughout each of these stages. All three women are played beautifully by Deborah Kerr who never surpassed the power of her performance in this film.

The other constant in the film is Anton Wallbrooks character of the sympathetic German with whom Candy builds a lifelong friendship and ultimately is probably Candy's only ever really satisfying relationship throughout his life.

For me the film operates on many complex levels. The romantic element is as affecting as anything you are likely to witness in the cinema. It achieves everything in the unrequited love department a la "the remains of the day" in a fraction of the time and as only part of the overall plot.

It deals with the moral complexities of war in a way that will have you debating the issues in your mind long after you have seen the film. This particular theme reaches its climax towards the end of the film when Candy is "retired" by the war ministry probably as a result of his outdated approach to strategy for the 2nd World War. Anton Wallbrook then delivers a setpiece speech which starkly outlines the evils of Nazism and the necessity to use any means to defeat it for the sake of freedom and humanity for coming generations.

Colonel Blimp with its pristine performances, absorbing plot, dazzling colour photography and economic flawless script easily gives Citizen Kane a good run for its money as the best film of all time.

Once in a while, I see a film I wished I'd seen before. This movie is one of those. It was a complete and total surprise. I'd heard of it, but never anything definitive. It is simply one of the greatest films I ever saw. From the first shot to the closing credits, it was wonderfully acted, beautifully photographed, and superbly directed. Everything worked: the music was effective, the costumes and makeup were perfect.

Roger Livesay and Deborah Kerr, in particular, shone beautifully. There was a chemistry between them that was especially magical during the early years. Livesay aged well, not just in the way he looked, but in the way he acted. He gave the impression that as an actor, he understood that generals always fight the previous war, and his General Candy felt, by films end, exactly that sort of general.

I recommend this movie without qualification to anyone who appreciates the art of moviemaking, and the pleasures of watching.

"The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp" (1943) is a directorial masterpiece. It was the film in which Michael Powell finally fulfilled the promise that he had shown sporadically in his earlier films - in scenes such as Conrad Veidt's darkly comic encounter with a mountain-goat while trailing a bicycle up a cliff in "The Spy in Black" (1939); the opening shot of "Thief of Bagdad" (1940) as the camera tracks closer to Jaffar's ship and reveals a painted eye on the boat's prow; or in the eerie opening sequence of "One of Our Aircraft Is Missing" (1942), where, without a crew to guide it, a Wellington bomber, flying over the southern coast of Britain, suddenly smashes into a power line and implodes in a blazing white ball of flame. Here, in "Colonel Blimp," based on the stuffy, elitist character created by David Low, director Powell found a unifying style that encompassed the other-worldly vision that is sustained throughout the film's lengthy running time (2 hours, 43 minutes) - a style that is, at once, austere yet elegant; moody but curiously euphoric; hard at its core but sentimental around the edges.

As evidenced by the film's title, Pressburger's script does deal in a very generalized way with issues of Life and Death, but he carries his vision into the realm of the abstract, and he does so in circular fashion. More specifically, he explores a younger generation's brash, rebellious attitude towards their elders; and then examines how that attitude becomes more restrained, more conservative with the passage of time - until, as that generation ages, they become so "traditional" that, in the end, when their notions of honor and ethics have become obsolete in relation to the dominant society, they abstain from collaborating with community and, in a sense, they cease to really exist at all. And in the end, Death is all there is.

In keeping with Pressburger's theme, the film is structured in circular fashion, beginning in 1943, flashing back to 1903 and progressing all the way up to 1943 again, where it ends: Life as a universal loop, so to speak. Pictorially, the movie begins with an image of speed - British military messengers motorcycling across the English highways to their respective units with orders regarding war-game maneuvers. But the film ends with a sharply contrasting image - a yellowish-brown leaf floating down a small waterway, its slowness of passage suggesting a funeral dirge and procession.

The story's main concern is of the deep friendship and camaraderie between the film's hero, Major John Candy, V. C. (Roger Livesey), and German Lieutenant Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook), who meet one another as participants in a duel that has been arranged for the two in order to solve a peacetime diplomatic dispute. Afterwards, while nursing their wounds in a hospital, they become close friends - so much so that when it is discovered that they are unacknowledged suitors to the same girl, an English governess (one of three women played by Deborah Kerr), there is no dispute whatsoever: a coy suggestion by the filmmakers that two individuals can often solve disputes more efficiently than two nations. There is a temporary row between Candy and Theo at the end of the First World War, as indeed there can be little other than animosity between two uneasy nation/signatories of a peace treaty. But 20 years later, when Theo flees Nazi Germany and begs political asylum in England, it is Candy (now a general) who gladly uses his enormous influence to save Theo from either internment or deportation. This last episode is particularly affecting: Theo recites for British immigration officials a long, sad story of his life from 1919 on, relating the death of his wife and the indoctrination of his sons into the Hitler Youth.

From there, the film completes its flashback "loop" to 1943, where we witness Candy's old-fashioned Victorian adherence to "good sportsmanship" - his single failing as a military tactician and leader - that costs his Home Guard unit a war-games competition. David Low sought to satirize the Blimp character as a ridiculous facsimile of grandiose pomposity; Powell and Pressburger, however, seek to humanize him by tracing the process that finally made "Colonel Blimp" what he was, at least externally. Roger Livesey's performance is an outstanding, sympathetic tour-de-force - he was one of the most transparently gifted film actors of his generation. And Deborah Kerr's triple-performance confirmed her stardom for decades to come.

Powell references one of his favorite films "The Wizard of Oz" (1939) throughout - even down to the naming of Candy's aunt as the Lady Margaret Hamilton. Candy is referred to as "the Wizard" by his driver's fiancée, even while humming and dancing to the tune "We're Off to See the Wizard." (Three years later, Powell would use "Oz's" technique of alternating between monochrome and Technicolor for his fantasy, "A Matter of Life and Death.")

Colonel Blimp started life as a satirical cartoon for the London Evening Standard by Sir David Low. An ageing, plump, pompous and eternally red-faced blowhard, Blimp was Low's idea of the militaristic upper-classes; the kind of chest-puffing Jingo who would voice his frequently contradictory declarations from a Turkish bath wearing nothing but a towel. At first, it would seem that Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is directly adapting the political cartoons, as the old man Colonel is rudely disturbed from his sleep in a Turkish bath by a group of youngsters who have arrived early for a planned war game, to declare that such chivalry in war will not be practised by the enemy. We then go back 40 years, and any hint of satire makes way for a story of romance, friendship, and growing old.

During the Boer War in 1902, the young Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) receives a letter from Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr) in Berlin, who warns him that a known rogue named Kaunitz is spreading anti-British propaganda. Going against orders, Candy travels to Germany and ends up causing a scene by provoking Kaunitz. To settle matters, a duel is arranged with a randomly-chosen German officer, who turns out to be Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). While recovering from their wounds in a military hospital, the two men hit it off and begin a friendship that will last for more than 40 years. Moving through the First and Second World Wars, we follow Candy as he rises through the military ranks, fails and succeeds in love, before finding himself an old man, greatly outdated and socially displaced.

It's astonishing that this film got made at all. On top of being rather experimental in terms of tone and narrative structure (it feels very much like the English equivalent of Citizen Kane), Colonel Blimp was shot in glorious - and expensive - Technicolor during wartime, running at almost three hours when most films wouldn't dare to push 100 minutes. Winston Churchill tried to ban it, believing it to be an anti-war propaganda piece poking fun at the idea of 'British-ness', when it is anything but. Instead, the film deliberately gives out mixed signals, lovingly embracing the idea of gentlemanly conduct during a bloody war, while pondering the necessity of brutality, especially when faced with an enemy who play like the Nazis did (and were doing at the time, of course). While British propaganda was making sure to send a clear and strong message about the enemy, Colonel Blimp makes one of its main characters a sympathetic German, and is clear to highlight that these nations will be friends again in the future.

Livesey is staggering as Candy (who later becomes Wynne-Candy). The make-up work is absolutely flawless, easily trumping the big Hollywood productions we get these days. The man genuinely ages before our eyes, and Livesey manages to entirely convince as a man gaining experience and weariness through the years. He may be a man whose values are slowly becoming obsolete, but he remains a good man, and a thoroughly lovable one. Walbrook delivers an understated performance, and brings a tear to the eye during a monologue in which tries to convince British officials why they shouldn't deport him back to Nazi Germany, and Kerr juggles three roles - as Candy's lost love Edith; his wife Barbara; and his driver 'Johnny' in his later years - with absolute ease. It has remarkable scope yet is incredibly intimate, and it's a film that should have been branded across every cinema screen in the country by the War Office. Quite possibly the finest film ever to emerge from our rainy shores.

Watched it last night. I'd never seen it before, but not for lack of trying. I'd begun watching a number of times and always lost interest in the first 10 minutes. But this time I'd DVR'd it on the MGM-HD movie channel and it was sitting there in Hi-Def on my DVR hard drive and I was thinking I couldn't just delete it without watching, what with all the wonderful things I'd heard about it and all ... so I settled in again and had another go.

What had always put me off -- and very nearly put me off again last night -- was the tone of the opening scenes. It was 1943, Britain was practically Liberty's last bastion in Europe, and here's a movie in which the British Army is interacting with the Home Guard as though they were all in a Marx Brothers movie. The first segment flies by at a breakneck pace and is so larded with stereotypical British dialogue I almost expected Bertie Wooster to put in an appearance. I'm not saying I don't enjoy such things at times; I'm saying that to me in this film the irreverent tone did not fit the situation. And the events that were transpiring -- the "all in fun old boy" near-decapitation of a motorcyclist, the violation of the rules of a game by an enthusiastic young Army officer, the humiliation in a Turkish bath of a nearly-naked old fat man with a big mustache, the betrayal of the Army by a Mata Hari in uniform -- just did not appeal to me at all, not even a little bit. I came so close to quitting yet again last night, but ...

I'm saying all this for the benefit of anybody who's never seen the movie. If you can make it through the first, oh, 30 minutes or so, I believe you'll be rewarded with one of the most memorable movie experiences of your life. You'd think the movie would be about that insufferable young Army officer, but no ... it's about the old fat man with the big mustache and how he came to be where he is, why he thinks right is might and not the other 'way round, whom he loved, whom he lost, the trophies on his wall, his friend the German Army officer, and so very very much more. The background of the opening and closing credits is drawn to look like a medieval tapestry -- and that's just a perfect artistic choice because the film is the tapestry of a life. You see the old fat mustachioed blow-hard at the beginning of the film and you dismiss him, but then through an extended movie-length flashback you follow his life from the time he was a brash, insufferable young Army officer himself, through his distinguished service to his country, right up to the day he's humiliated in the Turkish bath. And this time you look at that wonderful, flawed old man in a very different light.

The film is a feast for the eyes in luscious Technicolor, with sumptuous sets, glorious costumes, and the lovely young Deborah Kerr in three -- count 'em, three! -- different roles. I thought the acting was superb throughout, with OK, one or two exceptions -- notably an American motorcycle driver. The highlight of the film was a monologue by the German Army officer friend played by Anton Walbrook that had me riveted to the screen -- just brilliant writing and acting. I won't spoil things by describing what he said -- I'll just highly recommend you see it if you haven't already. Some say the reason Churchill opposed the making of this film was the sympathetic depiction of a German officer. Could be, but if the charge against Churchill is correct, then Churchill was wrong. Or maybe it's because the main character was just a bit too reminiscent of Churchill himself. I think nobody knows the real answer.

To refresh my memory, I looked up Colonel Blimp in Wikipedia because as far as I could tell there was nobody in this movie actually named Colonel Blimp. As soon as I saw the cartoon character I recognized him -- of course I'd seen him before, and of course Colonel Blimp is a type, not an actual character. Of course.

Fine movie, well worth the time invested.

Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are only recently starting to get the attention they deserve. This was the first of their pictures I saw and it's still my favourite (just ahead of The Red Shoes). Like so many of their collaborations The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is not only brilliantly crafted and entertaining but is also a highly inventive piece of cinema that was well ahead of its time.

The subtext alone of Colonel Blimp itself was pushing the envelope considerably. Made during World War Two, it can be considered a propaganda film albeit a very irregular one. Rather than simply making a gung ho morale booster Powell and Pressburger made the unprecedented move of criticising the tactics of their own side, and presenting a more realistic approach to the war. Colonel Blimp makes two arguably valid but politically dangerous points. The first – the main theme of the picture – was to say that the officer elite has an old-fashioned outlook, and views war as a kind of gentleman's game with rules and honour. The second, perhaps even more daring aspect was by having a sympathetic German character pointing out that, regardless of nazi policy, the German people themselves were not automatically villains. In fact, even distinguishing between "nazi" and "German" was pretty unusual for a film of this period. None of this has the same impact on a modern audience, but the film is still captivating today thanks to its engaging storyline and Michael Powell's skillful direction.

To understand how far ahead of its time this film is, you have to remember that cinema at the time was populated by stereotypes and stock characters. Heroes had to be instantly likable and villains had to be detestable. In Wynne-Candy you get a character who was unlikely to have got a film to himself, and would not have been a likable character had he appeared in a smaller role. But the Life and Death of Colonel Blimp takes you on his journey, humanises the character and makes him sympathetic. In it's uncut form (roughly 160 minutes) it's a long runner for its time, and it needs to be to really draw you in and make you feel like you have lived a part of his life. And what makes all this more incredible is that the message of the film is to rubbish his outlook and say his kind are on the way out.

Colonel Blimp also stands out from the crowd on a purely technical level. Powell was one of the first directors to really work well in colour. Here, rather than overusing the technology and filling the screen with blaring shades, he uses subtle and sombre tones. Paradoxically he often composes shots with mostly blacks, whites and greys. The World War One scenes for example almost look like monochrome, allowing for a greater impact in the first scene after the armistice showing brightly coloured threads on an industrial loom. There's also a bit of typical Powell and Pressburger cinematic self-reference here, as the threads are red, blue and green, the same colours used in the three-strip Technicolor process.

And then there is the handling of emotions. In general the most tear-inducing moments in cinema are accompanied by some stirring music, but with Michael Powell it's the opposite – he pauses all other sounds and allows the characters to do the work alone. In the scene where Theo as an old man is explaining himself to be allowed to stay in the UK, the set is busy and there is plenty of background noise from the traffic outside. When he gets to the point of explaining how his wife died and his sons disowned him, the camera slowly closes in on him and importantly, that background noise disappears. All that is left is Anton Walbrook's performance. It makes for an incredibly poignant moment. Colonel Blimp is rarely particularly sad, but it's one of the most emotionally involving films I've ever seen.

Of course, even the greatest director/screenwriter partnership can't produce a great film without the right cast and crew. Powell rarely cast big names, neither Hollywood stars or the British theatrical elite. Roger Livesy and Anton Walbrook while not complete unknowns were certainly obscure and rarely cast as leads, but the point is that they are simply the most perfect matches for those characters. It was also a daring move casting newcomer Deborah Kerr in a large part (or, in fact, three parts), but she does a fine job and rightly went on to become a major star. There's also a lovely score from Allan Grey.

I guess I should apologise now for all this gushing praise, but Colonel Blimp really is a masterpiece on every level. Unfortunately, due to the bold political points it made, it was more or less buried upon initial release, was only available in a drastically shortened version until the 1980s, and as such never really got the recognition it deserved.

This has to be my all time favourite movie. It is the story of Clive Candy (Roger Livesey), a British Army officer, from 1902 to 1942. It is told as a flashback in three sections - 1902, 1918 and 1942. Deborah Kerr plays three women in his life, Edith Hunter, who he falls in love with in 1902, Barbara Wynne, who he marries in 1918 and Angela/Johnny his driver in 1942. Anton Walbrook plays Theo who fights a duel with Candy in 1902 and then becomes friends with Candy and Edith and marries Edith. They meet briefly in 1918 when Theo is being sent back to Germany from a British POW camp. In 1942 they meet again although both Edith and Barbara have died by then. When Theo sees Johnny he realises why Clive chose her to be his driver. Other excellent perfomers include John Laurie as Candy's WWI driver and later his butler. Some of the lines must have meant a lot to Emerich Pressburger, particularly when Theo explains why he left Germany so late after the Nazis came to power and the bit when Theo says it must be hard losing your wife abroad and Candy replies "It wasn't abroad, it was Jamaica" which summed up the David Low cartoon character Col Blimp's attitude to the world and particularly the British Empire. The film is not a war story, though it features a soldier. It is not a sloppy romance, though it features a man looking for his ideal woman. It more than either or both put together. It is without doubt due to the consummate skills of Powell and Pressburger every bit as much as the excellent performances they coaxed out of the superb cast. Winston Churchill hated the film and tried to have it banned as it featured a sympathetic German character when Britain was at war with Germany. I am so glad he failed.

In1942 in London, along a war training of the Home Guard, the reckless officer Spud Wilson (James McKechnie) arrests General Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) in a club, and he recalls his life since forty years ago. Candy fought in the Boer War and was decorated with a honor medal. In 1902, while in leave in London, he is informed by a friend that the British Miss Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr), who works as a housekeeper in Berlin, wrote a letter telling that a German officer was blaming the British Army of atrocities against the Boers in Africa. Candy travels to Berlin without permission, and after an incident in a fancy restaurant, he is challenged to a duel against Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). They both are hurt and have to spend eight weeks in a hospital with Edith, becoming friends. Theo falls in love for her, marrying her in the end. Along the wars and years, Clive and Theo remain good friends, Clive gets married with Barbara Wynne (Deborah Kerr) and when Edith dies, Theo moves to London before the WWII. He meets General Candy again, who is responsible for the Home Guard of London and is introduced to his driver, "Johnny" Cannon (Deborah Kerr).

"The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp" shows war and life though the years of General Clive Candy. The movie is too long and could have been edited and reduced, but anyway I believe its great attraction is the year of the production, 1943, when England was in war against Germany in World War II. Deborah Kerr performs three different roles with her usual efficiency, but Roger Livessey is the greatest star of this good film. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "Coronel Blimp - Vida e Morte" ("Colonel Blimp - Life and Death")

The extraordinary partnership of Powell and Pressburger brought this affectionate look at the British Military at the height of WWII. Telling the tale of an old warrior who had fought with vigour and honour all his life but must now face the evils of Nazism.

Churchill illegally tried to ban it despite never having seen it. He thought it portrayed the Army high command as old fashioned, Blimpish types. In fact it tells how they had overcome past attitudes to fight a modern war.

Livesey ably portrays the gradual transformation from 1890's firebrand to 1940's general. Kerr is a joy as she plays the three women he is fascinated by. Walbrook splendidly remains the constant friend and voice of common sense in a changing world.

There seems to be trend for overly long films at the moment of writing. It's certainly not a new phenomenon though, as this proves at nearly 3 hours. We're quickly introduced to a squad of eager young soldiers in army training, all with daft names, led by the spritely Spud Wilson (James McKechnie). It's all a bit farcical and good fun as they raid a Turkish baths in an army exercise and defeat old Major General Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) before the exercise has got going. This is because he's seen as past it, stuffy with a silly moustache and that maybe so, but it's not always been that way. He was once young as we rewind to the turn of the century and well to be honest, he's still stuffy. Tally ho officer type. He's happy to break a rule for good reason though and makes his way to pre war Berlin to help a damsel in distress, Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr). This starts a chain of events that shape his life. Together they're on a mission to restore the good name of England. See, tally ho stuff. Things get entertainingly out of hand and before we know it, Candy finds himself in a duel. His opponent Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbtook), another army man, German of course, hence the name. Things aren't about to get gory though, this is not that film. This is prim, cordial, gentlemanly etc. Hysterically proper, purposely so, highlighting the ridiculousness of taking sides and the war that defines Candy. He is a rather loveable and honourable scoundrel and in Theo (I can't type all that again) he finds an unlikely friend. At the half way point, it could be said that not an awful lot has happened, but it's still wonderful and as we learn more about Candy, the more this warm hug of a film makes you smile. Well aside perhaps the scene with Candy displaying his hunting trophies on the wall. Why on earth was mounting dead animal heads ever a thing?? We're reminded he's an army man as we find ourselves in WWI, where he meets another girl, a nurse named Barbara (Deborah Kerr). The sets although half painted when outside are delightfully of the period, as is the string laden score. Candy is never in mortal danger despite his occupation, but Theo finds himself on the losing side and things only get harder as we fast forward to WWII. All these world events could seem a mere canvas for Candys story and those who weave through his life. His loves, his loses, but its war that shapes him and brings people into his life that he cares for, like his driver Angela (Deborah Kerr)... spotting a theme? The man we know at the end has travelled a long way, as have we, through near three gripping hours, that really need to be watched than read about. Sit back and enjoy. Bravo!

This is one of the most touching, heartwarming films I've ever seen. I'm so glad I stayed up late to watch it on TCM last night. The acting was superb, the sets true in every detail, & the costumes totally authentic. The script was literate, yet not snobbish. If there is one fault I had with this movie, it was the lack of action. The big game hunting was done off-camera (although I admit that the way it was handled was incredible!!), & there was almost no war time scenes...even the duel was cut short. That aside, this film kept me riveted for the entire 2 hours. At the end, I had to wipe away a tear as I realized that time was catching up with me in much the same way. Not a film for the younger audiences...no sex, no nudity, no blood & guts. No, this is film for those of us who've lived long enough to know that life is more than explosions, sex, machine guns, & car chases. In short...I loved it...Ten Stars!!!!

This title is misleading; the main character is General Candy; his lifelong adversary and friend is a German officer, and their mutual love interest is played by a radiant Deborah Kerr. This film covers over forty years of military service of Candy and his adventures. It avoids the usual military stereotype associated with all high-ranking officers of any army you would like to imagine. Instead, it portrays one particular officer as a human being with feelings, love interests, honor, truth, courage, and disappointments. In other words, it tells its story in a realistic, rather than fanciful, or militaristic way. The film was amazingly made in 1943, but has the feel of a film made well after WW2. The cinematography is breathtaking; but that should come as no surprise with the unsurpassed reputation of the cinematographer, Powell. A very underrated film.

Forget what another reviewer said here about being "shallow and lacking in emotional content" and full of "stock characters", as nothing could be further from the truth. This is one of the finest British films ever made.

It may mock the old reactionary Blimp (who pretty much is Churchill) but it does so with deep sympathy for his passing age of fair play. And its message that Britain must fight a realistic war was a great bit of intelligent and patriotic propaganda. By opposing it Churchill underestimated the intelligence of the British people.

Roger Livesey's and Anton Walbrook's performances are both fantastic, and the film contains two drop-dead emotional moments: Walbrook's single shot speech about leaving Germany, and Livesey's final lines as the film ends.

And any film which has a character called Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff MUST be good.

Clive Candy (Roger Livesey), a British army officer, wins a Victoria Cross in South Africa, fights a duel in Berlin in 1902, acquires a lifelong friend and his lifelong love for a woman (or women), commands in Flanders in the Great War and brings the experience of a lifetime's service to the Second World War.

It is soon apparent that this fine film portrays a Colonel Blimp very different from David Low's jingoistic and hidebound comic strip character. Here, Candy is a sympathetic figure from the start; firm in his principles, certainly, but courteous and sensitive with those whom he respects - indeed, how could Livesey not appear as a sympathetic character: it seems to be in his very nature. The film is clever and deceptive in its structure. The action is framed by the opening WWII exercise, in which the "invaders" capture the elderly General Wynne-Candy. These scenes are repeated and elaborated at the end of the film, where the effect of the exercise in demonstrating the obsolescence of Candy's values becomes clear and when he makes clear his great stature in embracing the uncongenial reality that confronts him. Within this frame, the story of Candy's life is told, and here is the greater deception, for, at the beginning, it seems like a straightforward romantic comedy, perhaps even disappointing in its lack of ideas. Then, after the Armistice, the mood changes, becomes philosophical, as the nature of loyalty and friendship, of love and patriotism are explored.

Representatives of the British establishment, assembled around a dinner table, assert their resolve to see Germany rebuilt in a fair peace. Credulity is strained here, when one recalls the oppressive reality and disastrous consequences of the Versailles Treaty. Yet the principles are praiseworthy and would be reflected in the settlement after WWII. The two defining moments of the film are both given to Candy's long-time friend, the German uhlan officer, Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). He delivers two set-piece speeches, one explaining why he had abandoned Germany for England in 1935, the second a manifesto for the survival of a democracy in total war. They, like the rest of his performance, are given impeccably and, with their quiet delivery by a German character, intensely moving.

Deborah Kerr, lovely yet brimming with personality, plays superbly her three roles, each a woman Candy loves at different stages in his career and, incidentally, disclosing his character as socially democratic, unlikely but attractive none the less. Kerr succeeds in subtly differentiating each role, whilst revealing the characteristics that were bound to attract Candy. Both Walbrook and Livesey give outstanding performances, despite ageing forty years, a process Kerr avoids. John Laurie, as Murdoch, Candy's batman, has a less outrageous role than those usually assigned to this fine character actor. Alfred Junge presents his usual excellent design, taking full advantage of Technicolor.

This film was, supposedly, produced in 1943 as British propaganda. It is noteworthy that even Churchill could not suppress exhibition of this film when he was concerned at its message. That message embraces loyalty and steadfastness, honesty, democracy, realism and fairness. It is about the importance of relationships that transcend nationality. It is about love, between woman and man, and as a general concept. It is about being resolute and pragmatic in conflict and generous in victory. It recognizes the value of individuals beyond the categories in which they find themselves. If this film can be represented as British propaganda, then no-one need be ashamed to be British.

This film transcends its format and, perhaps, the intentions with which it was produced. It is another wonderful surprise from the Archers which everyone should see.

I love this film because it asks more questions than it answers. It takes a character that I would not be naturally sympathetic to and explores his life in the context of the war and politics of his time. The films bright colour constantly reinforces the message that the world can not be represented in the black and white of right and wrong. It is more modernist but less self-concious than a host of films that appeared in the 50's and 60's. James Joyce would have loved this film had he seen it. I know that no two people ever come away with the same memories of the film. Remember that this film was made in Britain during a war that the Nazis might have won. It still engages the viewer in a two-way experience that I believe has never been matched. It is true "open cinema" despite the criticisms that others may have. I still do not know what a lot of the film is trying to say, and I hope I never get all the answers. Ciaran Cregan 23.05.01

Quite possibly the best film ever made.

Certainly the one that shows Pressburger as the best screenwriter.

The tight plotting and constant textual and visual references backwards and forwards make it a marvel to watch, and one of the few films I know that bears watching twice in quick succession.

Some of the comments from US reviewers imply that a version has been shown there that is heavily cut and re-ordered. No wonder its confusing for them. You must miss quite a lot of the point if you don't see the first 3 or 4 scenes of the 1941 training exercise - and you'd better remember them because when the flashback catches up with the frame story we see that things weren't quite the way they seemed the first time.

Powell and Pressburger (and the designers and artists and technicians) really do manage to work together here. One of the reasons that the film is so good is that it is a work-out for more than one of your senses - to get the most out of it you have to keep your eyes and your ears open, you nave to keep track of the visuals and the text and the music. That's how a film is supposed to work, but so often doesn't.

As always with Pressburger, morality, ethics, and politics are on stage. He never wrote a war film in which Germans are cartoon bad guys, or the Allies painted angels. It's an anti-Nazi film, and its an intelligent and sensitive anti-Nazi film. As in Casablanca, part of this effect is achieved because the film was made by people who had lived through it. Walbrook and Powell were both in England to escape the Nazis. Livesey had volunteered for the war - and been turned down because he was too old. Kerr's father had been gassed in the trenches.

Here we see Clive standing up for the rules of war and honourable behaviour in three wars - yet we know that there are others on his side - the South African officer in the trenches, Spud, perhaps the Americans, the British commanders in South Africa - who are themselves willing to curt corners, to break the rules, to shoot or torture prisoners. In part this is a film about war crimes, and the ethics of war. It explicitly asks whether or not we have do evil to fight evil? Which is one of the reasons it is so relevant today.

All this, and its hilariously funny too! A description of the film makes it sound terribly serious, but it is in large part a comedy, and the Berlin scenes are some of the funniest ever filmed.

And the three male leads all get to marry their own private Deborah Kerr! That can't be bad. Though it does make you wonder about Powell...

To be perfectly honest, this was one of the most tiresome movies I have seen in a long while. It's a long and slow movie, that doesn't feature enough humor, drama or action. Instead it mixes all of these genre together but it's just not using enough of any of it. I'm sure I would had adored this movie if it only had some more comedy in it. It had all of the right type of characters for it but yet somehow the movie doesn't decide to push it through. Instead now the comedy works out often more as annoying than anything else really.

The movie is completely character driven but the movie reaches a point that I just don't care about the character anymore. I don't care much about his love life, his military career. In that regard this movie in my eyes already is a failure. It just couldn't hold my interest.

The movie too often drivels around too much and the movie feels quite bloated. It's made to look bigger than it in fact truly all is. Some sequences go on for far too long, without making an impression, or leave a significant enough purpose. And the movie doesn't get any better as it heads toward its ending. On the contrary, I would say.

The movie tells basically the entire lifespan of a military man, from a young ambitious officer to a more realistic gray, fat, retired army colonel. We see him not only grow as a military man but also as a person, as he meets new people throughout his life and re-encounters a German officer and later friend, at various points throughout his career. This could had all provided a movie with an intriguing story and characters but because its so tiresome all, it just doesn't ever really work out as it was supposed to.

Having said all of that; it's a quite good looking movie. It's a movie that got made back in 1943 but yet it got shot in full color. This certainly gives the movie something extra. It has a great look, which not in the least is also due to some fine cinematography, from Oscar-winner Georges Périnal. He was a person who was already doing color movies in the late '30's.

I just didn't liked this movie as much as everyone else seems to do.

6/10

http://bobafett1138.blogspot.com/

Resisting the temptation to deliver a propaganda film to rally the nation during the dark days of 1942, Powell and Pressubrger directed The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, a highly nuanced character study in which an idealistic soldier cannot accept that the world has passed him by. Considered too controversial by Winston Churchill, the film was originally released only with massive cuts to its flashback structure, a move which negated the point of the film. Fortunately it was restored in the eighties to its full length and is now available in a magnificent Criterion DVD. The film is based on a comic strip by David Low that satirized an aging military general, a stereotype who is out of touch with the nation's mood.

Powell and Pressburger, however, used the comic strip the way Shakespeare uses some of his source material, only as a bare outline for the creation of complex characters and language of emotional depth. Candy is the personification of the English soldier as accepted during post-Victorian times but he is shown in a sympathetic manner, not as lacking in intelligence or virtue but as simply unable to cope with the demands of modern warfare. The film, produced in gorgeous Technicolor, opens in present time as a group of British home guard soldiers on a training exercise take it upon themselves to break the rules to show that the British army should emulate the dirty tactics of the enemy. When they capture the decorated British General Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) and his staff, the stage is set for a flashback that deposits us in 1902.

Candy, a decorated hero of the Boer Wars in South Africa, takes an unauthorized trip to Berlin to confront Kaunitz (David Ward), a German who is spreading rumors about British atrocities in South Africa. Meeting the lovely Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr) who had written him about Kaunitz, he immediately becomes involved in an altercation with Kaunitz and a duel with Prussian officer Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). Though both are injured, a lifelong friendship develops that spans four decades, although Theo prevails in the love department, winning the affections of Edith.

Candy becomes a big game hunter, mounting trophies of his kill on the wall of his aunt's house. During World War I, he meets and marries a British nurse Barbara Wynne (Deborah Kerr) who unsurprisingly reminds him of Edith while Theo has become a prisoner of war in England. The theme of the film is illustrated in a scene towards the end of the war when Candy questions some German prisoners. His soft techniques of interrogation prove fruitless, however, and the questioning is left to a more ruthless soldier. As World War II unfolds, Candy and Theo are both widowers and Candy helps Theo gain asylum in Britain, a risky move since both of his sons have joined the Nazi cause.

One of the highlight's of the film is Theo's powerful ten-minute monologue explaining his rejection of Nazi Germany and his desire to settle in England. Candy is soon considered obsolete and a "Blimp-like" purveyor of the old values since he refuses to acknowledge that new tactics are needed to defeat a ruthless enemy and leaves the service, devoting his experience to training the home guard civilian defense forces and the story comes full circle. There is no character named Blimp, no battle scenes are depicted, and no overt romance is shown, yet The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp manages to convey a true feeling of romance, the futility of war, and what the modern world has lost in terms of heroic virtues. The premise that war ever reflected "civilized" values, however, is highly dubious.

A rather lively production, the film often is entertaining and the colour is brilliant for the time. The sets and costumes are stunning and there are some great bits of camera-work. The best part of the film is none of those qualities, but rather Roger Livesey's strong performance. Together with some excellent makeup, he plays the title character from his thirties to old age, and he not only looks but he also sounds like he has aged. The film is embedded in grandness, with excellent production values, but it still would have been nicer to endure with a shorter running time. A few of scenes feel like they go on for too long, and while certain sequences are very intense and compelling, others feel as if they lack oomph. The many supporting characters are not too well developed, but it is just a sort of unevenness that seems to be the film's main downfall, if you can call it that. It is a wonderfully lavish film and excellent in quality for 1943, however I feel that it is only 'often' and not 'always' engaging to watch.

General Candy (Roger Livesey), who's overseeing an English squad in 1943, is a veteran leader who doesn't have the respect of the men he's training and is considered out-of-touch with what's needed to win the war. But it wasn't always this way. Flashing back to his early career in the Boer War and World War I, we see a dashing young officer whose life has been shaped by three different women (Deborah Kerr) , and by a lasting friendship with a German soldier (Anton Walbrook) . A Lusty Lifetime of Love and Adventure in Lavish Technicolor !. A thrilling lifetime of courage and love... in triumphant Technicolor !. An unforgettable story of forty gallant years. A Rogue With A Roving Eye! A Devil... In A Daring Adventure! The Lusty Lifetime Of A Gentleman Who Was Sometimes Quite A Rogue!

Chronicles the jingoist life of a British soldier who survives three wars : Boer , WWI , WWII , falls in love with three women , all portrayed by Deborah Kerr and dances a fine waltz . Thrilling , patriotic , sensitive , enjoyable WWI-WW2 flick , though slighly unreal , that was top moneymaker in British cinema and all over the world . Being an exciting -though dated at times- warfare patriotic yarn made during WWII , riddled with attractive stars . At the time it was a controversial portrait of a stuffy British officer that was condemned by the British press as being disastrously bad propaganda because the leading role's longlife friendship with a Prussian officer . Believing the movie undermined British confidence during WWII , Prime Minister Winston Churchill became enraged after a viewing and personally banned it from from being exported . Because of this outrage , the movie, completed in 1943 , was not shown in the US until the war had ended and even then it was heavily edited to give the British a more favourable view.

Special mention for the colorful cinematography by great cameraman Georges Périnal , as well as evocative and adequate musical score by composer Allan Gray . The motion picture was very well written/produced/directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger . They wrote the original story and screenplay , financing their production company The Archers . Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's shooting skillfully skirts the obvious to create an out-of-the-rout war drama . Alexander Korda brought Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger together for the film ¨The Spy in Black¨ up to then Powell had been directing low budget films in Britain and Pressburger working as a scriptwriter in Europe . They stayed together for 20 years and 20 films first a series of inventive contributions to the war effort including ¨49th Parallel¨ and ¨A Canterbury Tale¨ then a variety of imaginitive attempts to produce post war films of international appeal and sophistication from a strong British base, which led to successes such as ¨A Matter of Life and Death¨ and ¨The Red Shoes¨ but foundered in the 1950's . Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger were usual collaborators , getting together to make a lot of successful films . Directing the following ones : ¨The Tales of Hoffman¨, ¨The Elusive Pimpernel¨, ¨Pursuit of Graf Spee¨ , ¨The small black room¨, ¨Black Narcisus¨ , ¨Contraband¨ , ¨The Thief of Bagdad¨ , ¨Edge of the World¨ , ¨Night ambush¨, ¨The Lion has Wings¨ , ¨Spy in Black¨, ¨One of out aircraft is missing¨ , ¨Life and death of Colonel Blimp¨,¨ Canterbury Tale¨ , among others . Many of them are deemed to be masterpieces , and being produced under banner their production The Archers . Rating : 7.5/10 . This fascinating film is particularly appointed to WWII movie fonds , this shouldn't be missed . Essential and fundamental seeing . Better than average.

This movie might have been relevant in 1943 London but now it's only a colourful postcard from ancient times. Here is the landscape: flamboyant Technicolor, a good old Victorian British soldier (impressive and very credible makeup for the lead who brilliantly sails from 1902 to 1942), down-to-earth British humour (I mean never getting an edge ever on the farcical side or in pure satire), conjunctural sentimentalism and a mishmash of some heavy handed wartime propaganda with a few strong points near the end.

As for me I was bored stiff and about to leave the theater right after the first part (1942 prologue + 1902 establishing vignette). I sat through it and it seems that only the old ladies next to me where enjoying every bit of it. Well sorry but this Candy is a bore, a passive character with picturesque traits who does nothing interesting except aging in an absurd and stoical stance. And the rest is pretty stiff too, even the charming Deborah Kerr is stiffened as the perfect lovable English girl on duty for three different shifts.

So neither the characters nor the story are interesting, the whole movie just spans 40 years. Above all things there's no sense of narrative rhythm. Narrative rhyme? Maybe Bobby, to me it's more tapestry than poetry.