THE AMERICANIZATION OF EMILY: Blu-ray (MGM 1964) Warner Archive Collection
Most movies
are the undiluted vision of their director; a visual artist’s personal imprint
that becomes more apparent upon repeat viewings of their body of work. On
occasion, however, the focus has shifted from director to producer, perhaps
nowhere more distinctly than in those movies made by David O. Selznick, so
clearly and obviously reflecting his thoughts, his morality and his ideals; the
director assigned to helm these productions, a mere minion, expected to fulfill
Selznick’s edicts. Rarely, however, in the history of American cinema has the
writer been given such consideration, leeway, or even accolades as a movie’s
acknowledged auteur; unless, of course, he also happens to be its director, as
say, a Joseph L. Mankiewicz or Preston Sturges. Hence, The Americanizaton of Emily (1964) is all the more extraordinary
and unique. For although the movie is amply realized by its director, Arthur
Hiller, the essence, nee – the spirit - of the piece is undeniably dictated by
screenwriter, Paddy Chayefsky’s erudite prose. William Bradford Huie’s novel
defines ‘Americanization’ as a sort
of faux prostitution; English girls trading sexual favors to the Yanks in order
to acquire stylish clothes, perfumes, and, lavish outings to fashionable
parties and nightclubs; all of it ultimately culminating in midnight rendezvous
inside the swankier suites of London hotels; the Savoy, Dorchester or
Claridge’s.
In
reconstituting this rather seedy premise, Paddy Chayefsky has superficially
gleaned only Huie’s basic premise and characters. Instead, he has taken an
almost perverse and very esoteric approach to this material; the tale of an
unrepentant coward, slick and devilishly handsome dog-robber, Lt. Cmdr. Charles
Edward Madison (James Garner) and the priggish English widow, Emily Barham
(Julie Andrews) he comes to seduce and eventually care for, becomes a mere
platform on which Chayefsky grafts an even more sublime social commentary about
the ever-lasting psychological perils of war; its deification of heroes and
heroism as insidious to the perpetuation of mankind’s self-destruction as any
misperceived notions of valor. The genius in Chayefsky’s writing is that it
never come across as a weighty tome - stagnated or preachy - but miraculously
retains a self-reflexive quality, easily disseminated to the audience with razor-backed
honesty. Chayefsky’s characters are far more astute, articulate and able to
philosophize and debate a point of interest, plumbing it to fascinating depths.
And yet none of these characters ever slips into overbearing academia or tedium
in their quest for the truth. Many authors and playwrights have walked this
tightrope. Maxwell Anderson immediately comes to mind. But few have been more
stealthily secure in their clever-clever expositions than Paddy Chayefsky. The
true artistry in his exercise becomes educational almost by accident. The
lesson is taught, but Chayefsky is never obviously the teacher. Indeed,
Chayefsky once clarified in an interview that “our purpose is to entertain. We fill up their leisure. If we also
happen to give the audience something to think about then we have achieved what
is called artistry…and that’s gravy. That’s bonus.”
In retrospect,
The Americanization of Emily remains
an embarrassment of such ‘bonuses’; an unexpected melodrama – deadly serious at
its core, yet wrapped inside an anti-war social critique approached with even more
wicked distraction by way of a thoroughly scathing romantic comedy. Chayevsky’s
wit, his superior intellect and his ability to expound such lofty platitudes
while making them seem more casual conversation, fit for the salon or a playful
parlor game between old friends or lovers; this is the kernel of genius of his
artistry. For although the characters that populate The Americanization of Emily deconstruct and articulate
exceptionally well thought out arguments in order to illustrate both the pro
and con, and, with Chayefsky’s own opinion clearly on the side of restraint,
though arguably, never appeasement, these nuggets of morality and humanity
never unhinge the discussion into wordy byplay. Instead, we are compelled to
listen to his almost rhapsodic theorizing; the conflict between man and woman inventively
plied and exploited as a counterpoint to the warring of nations; the solemnity
in the art of mechanized warfare made to reflect this more intimate contest.
The term ‘highbrow’ is often incorrectly
referenced to mark this chasm between the common collective understanding
(a.k.a. popular opinion) and pure intellectual thought (nee, debate). But
Chayefsky’s prose manage the seemingly impossible; to transfix his audience
with deeper ideas and ideals, their interpretation seeming effortlessly more
easily digestible. Chayefsky always says
what he means and means exactly what he says. Such personalization and
personification of the larger issues at stake, rendered down to their most
basic equation – two people in love – never talks down to the audience; the
eloquence loftier and more resilient than the conflict itself and food for
thought once the houselights have come up.
At the time of its release, The
Americanization of Emily was neither well-received nor critically acclaimed;
if for nothing else, then for Julie Andrews’ miraculous departure from
squeaky-clean and blissfully virginal nuns and nannies. As the title character,
Andrews is given the exceptionally plum role of a widow who, having lost her
husband at Tobruk, and briefly succumbed to the madness of casual liaisons with
many men to drown her sorrow, has somehow managed to slip into a sexual
reformation, morphing into a rather priggish spinster to whom all men – though
particularly American soldiers - now seem an anathema to her newfound
moralizing sense of self. Emily’s resolve is repeatedly tested by her obvious
and growing attraction to Charlie Madison; his chipping away at her faux ‘high-minded
principles with amorous contempt, impeding her ability merely to love and be
loved in return.
Yet Charlie
begins both his admonishment and his assessment of Emily thus, with a very real
condemnation of the war itself: “You
American haters bore me to tears. I've dealt with Europeans all my life…I've
had Germans and Italians tell me how politically ingenuous we are, and perhaps
so. But we haven't managed a Hitler or a Mussolini yet. I've had Frenchmen call
me a savage because I only took half an hour for lunch. Hell, Ms. Barham, the
only reason the French take two hours for lunch is because the service in their
restaurants is lousy. The most tedious of the lot are you British. We crass
Americans didn't introduce war into your little island. This war, Ms. Barham to
which we Americans are so insensitive, is the result of 2,000 years of European
greed, barbarism, superstition, and stupidity. Don't blame it on our Coca-cola
bottles. Europe was a going brothel long before we came to town.”
This, of
course, has the opposite effect intended. For only a few hours later, Charlie
will discover Emily patiently waiting in his bedroom to be served and serviced.
The burgeoning affair gets off to a very rocky start and intermittently
progresses, while Chayefsky’s narrative briefly entertains the approaching
D-Day invasion on the windswept and very bloody beaches of Normandy. The
premise is more necessarily complicated by Emily’s mum (the sublime, Joyce
Grenfell); who has slipped a cog after the brutal death of both her husband,
killed in the blitz, and son – one of many casualties in the war; choosing to
live her days in an indeterminate past where each is still very much alive and
apt to come home at any moment.
Emily
encourages Charlie to play along with this emotionless charade, and briefly, he
does exactly as she wishes, before delving into yet another tirade about the futility
of war. The effect of his admonishment is not immediately felt, for Chayefsky
has gilded the lily of his social critique in a wicked patina of glib repartee;
something of a mild amusement for both mother and daughter. “War isn't hell at all,” Charlie tells
Mrs. Barham, “It is man at his best; the
highest morality he's capable of. It's not war that's insane, you see. It's the
morality of it. It's not greed or ambition that makes war. It's goodness. Wars
are always fought for the best of reasons: for liberation or manifest destiny.
Always against tyranny and always in the interest of humanity. So far this war,
we've managed to butcher some ten million humans in the interest of humanity.
Next war it seems we'll have to destroy all of man in order to preserve his
damn dignity. It's not war that's unnatural to us. It's virtue. As long as
valor remains a virtue, we shall have soldiers. So, I preach cowardice. Through
cowardice, we shall all be saved.”
Charlie’s
critique is both amusing yet frank. But the playful mood of this tea time
garden party quickly sours when Charlie permits himself the luxury to criticize
Emily’s mother for her nascent pride that continues to hold the balance of her
incredible sorrow and imminent joys in a perpetual state of limbo. “I don’t trust people who make bitter
reflections about war, Mrs. Barham,” Charlie tells her plainly, “It’s always
the generals with the bloodiest war records who shout what a hell it is. It’s
always the war widows who lead the Memorial Day parade. We shall never win wars
by blaming them on ministers and generals or war-mongering imperialists or all
the other banal bogies. It’s the rest of us who build statues to those generals
and name boulevards after those ministers; the rest of us who make heroes of
our dead and shrines of our battlefields. We wear our widow’s weed like nuns,
Mrs. Barham, and perpetuate war by exalting the sacrifice.”
“My brother died at Anzio; an everyday soldier’s death
– no special heroism involved. They buried whatever pieces they found of him.
But my mother insists he died a brave death and pretends to be very proud. You
see, now my other brother can’t wait to reach enlistment age. It may be
ministers and generals who blunder us into wars…but the least the rest of us
can do is to resist honoring the institution. What has my mother got for
pretending bravery was admirable? She’s under constant sedation and terrified
she may wake up one morning and find her last son has run off to be brave? I
don’t think I was rude or unkind before, do you, Mrs. Barham?” In fact,
Charlie has paid the widow Barham a great kindness; one that stirs her back to
reality and its bitter thrashings of truth, at last favored over the great lie.
The other
narrative thread as yet not discussed involves Charlie’s superior officer,
Admiral William Jessup (Melvyn Douglas) who, after suffering a queer breakdown,
insists the first dead American on Omaha Beach must be a sailor. Jessup’s
declaration is rather startling and, in fact, paid very little mind by Charlie
or his fellow officers, Lt. Cmdr. Paul 'Bus' Cummings (James Coburn) or Admiral
Thomas Healy (Edward Binns). Nevertheless, the die has been cast. In the wake
of Jessup’s reoccurring departures from reality, Bus falls victim to the
valorization of war, establishing Jessup’s camera corp. of one – Charlie – who
will document the invasion for posterity’s sake and very likely be killed in
his efforts. Bus assures Charlie the likelihood of invasion is virtually slim
to nonexistent; a comfort Charlie confides to Emily who has by now fallen madly
in love with him but cannot bring herself to abide his cowardice. Or perhaps
the real disillusionment is yet to follow.
For as Charlie astutely points out
during their farewell in a torrential downpour at the airport, “I don't want to know what's good, or bad,
or true. I let God worry about the truth. I just want to know the momentary
fact about things. Life isn't good, or bad, or true. It's merely factual, it's
sensual, it's alive. My idea of living sensual facts are you, a home, a
country, a world, a universe - in that order. I want to know what I am, not
what I should be. The fact is I’m a coward. I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t.
You’re the most terrified woman I’ve ever met. You’re even scared to get
married.”
“Oh sure, you married him three days before he went to
Africa. Thank God he never came back. You’re forever falling in love with men
on their last nights of furlough. That’s about the limit of your commitments –
a night, a day, a month. You prefer lovers to husbands, hotels to a home. You’d
rather grieve than live. Come off it Emily. The only immoral thing you have
against me is that I’m alive. Well, you’re a good woman. You’ve done the
morally right thing. God save us all from people who do the morally right
thing. It’s the rest of us who get broken in half. You’re a bitch.”
Charlie flies
off, feeling secure he and Bus will have missed their connecting flight and
therefore be too late to engage in the D-Day invasion. Regrettably, fate has
dealt a more cruel hand. For the ill winds and rain pelting Emily and Charlie’s
during their brittle farewell have also delayed the Allied plans for invasion
by a full day, providing more than ample time for Charlie and Bus to hit the
beach running. Charlie refuses to comply and is physically dragged to the beach
and held there at gunpoint by Bus, now seemingly having succumbed to Jessup’s
delusions of grandeur. Realizing what
a fool she has been, Emily is powerless to tell Charlie how she really feels; she
wants the things he wants – though chiefly, to belong to a man who can be more
than a distant and deified memory, resting comfortably snug in a silver frame
on her mantel piece. Thankfully, Charlie survives his ordeal. He is mildly
wounded and taken to be patched up, finding Emily waiting for him on the other
side; all beguilement with the war and its heroes set aside. Charlie is the
only man for Emily now – his own blunder into heroism a confirmation of his
earlier edict: that through cowardice mankind shall be saved.
The Americanization of Emily is an
extraordinary movie about war and the strange bedfellows it breeds. While other anti-war movies take themselves
and their message far too seriously, Paddy Chayefsky’s critique places tongue
firmly in cheek and, as a result, makes a far more prophetic statement about
valor through irony than perhaps would ever be possible in a more grimly
mounted melodrama. Both Julie Andrews and James Garner give decisive
performances in their respective careers; each going largely unnoticed at the
time of the film’s release. Arguably, The
Americanization of Emily plays far better today as a sobering social
critique; the evolution of our own present cultural cynicism more in tune with
Chayefsky’s brutally funny situations and very acidic wit. There are too few
comedies about the advent of global conflict, perhaps because to poke fun at
its absurdities and willful chaos seems to disgrace the very nature of valor
for which only families that have lost a loved one to war can fully comprehend.
Yet the purpose of Chayefsky’s critique is neither to insult nor diminish the
impact of that loss of life or even to callously dismiss and make light of bravery;
but rather to point to the outcome – the loss itself – as a wholly unnecessary
byproduct of a very flawed human endeavor; namely- the miserably misguided
ambitions of war.
While that ‘other dark comedy’ about conflict - M*A*S*H –
plays as grand farce in the face of imminent peril, a sort of bastardization of
wartime precepts, offering a total escape from the grimness, The Americanization of Emily is
well-grounded with an overriding sense of doom and languor dangling over the
heads of our darling Em’ and her ne’er do well lover. Chayefsky neither shies
away nor exorcises the demons that lay beneath his very buoyant and frequently
extremely funny social critique: an exceptional gift to American cinema and one
for which Paddy Chayefsky’s contributions were virtually all but overlooked at
the time. But The Americanization of
Emily is bar none a superior example of
‘entertainment’ meets ‘the message
picture’: an amalgam by design, it tells a good story, but ultimately,
teaches us so very much more.
Here is a
Blu-ray release from the Warner Archive to get very excited about. I only have
one genuine complaint and one minor quibble with this Blu-ray. First, the
complaint; that 'Emily's' hi-def debut wasn’t given the proper fanfare. Everyone
should be aware this film is out in hi-def and be ready to snatch it up in a
heartbeat. This is a near ‘reference quality’ disc, beautifully showcasing
Philip Lathrop's Oscar-nominated cinematography. Prepare to be impressed. The
gray scale exhibits superb tonality; blacks - deep and solid; grays and whites
finely allocated with subtle shadings that bring even the minutest details in
hair, clothing and faces to life as never before. An accurately rendered
pattern of natural grain exists. Now, for the quibble: the brief (very
sporadic) intrusion of video noise. It just comes and goes, seemingly at
random, not terribly distracting but present nonetheless. Again, its’ very minor
and does not intrude – much – on this otherwise fantastic film-like
presentation. The movie’s inserts of actual stock footage are much softer in
focus and grainer – as they have been shot under less than perfectly controlled
conditions – nee, reality. They look about as good as they ever have or ever
will, but they do not align themselves with the rest of the image quality. This
is, of course, as it should be.
The Americanization of Emily sports a
lossless DTS 2.0 mono track which remains something of a curiosity, given that
the movie is listed as originally being released in both mono and stereo. The
track herein has perceptible stereo separation in Johnny Mandel’s score.
Dialogue and most effects are center channel based, but I also detected minor
separation in the left and right channels, particularly during the sequence
where Emily and Charlie say their bitter farewells in the pouring rain. As
before we get Arthur Hiller’s audio commentary; incorrectly advertises as
featuring Drew Casper on the DVD back jacket, but correctly advertised as
Hiller on the Blu-ray. Bottom line: The
Americanization of Emily comes very highly recommended. It deserves to be
seen and this Blu-ray presentation is definitely the way to see it!
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
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