THIS IS THE ARMY (Warner Bros., 1943) Warner Home Video

Unequivocally one of the finest war-timed propaganda movie musicals ever conceived, Irving Berlin’s This Is The Army (1943) remains the most authentically patriotic grand salute to the American Armed Forces ever documented on celluloid. America’s adopted son, and ‘dean’ of its Tin Pan Alley core composers, Irving Berlin never forgot from whence his overwhelming critical and financial success had cometh, and, throughout his lifetime, sought to pay homage and tributes aplenty to illustrate his gratitude toward a compassionate nation. Until his dying day, Berlin remained eternally appreciative for the opportunities America had afforded him. There is something that goes well beyond mere sentiment in the love Berlin possessed for America, plying his God-given talents to make certain her greatness would never be forgotten or, at the very least, taken for granted. Patriotism is illustrated in many different ways, but perhaps nowhere more affectingly than in that instantly recognizable anthem...something about, “God bless, America. Land that I love. Stand beside her, and guide her, through the night, with a light from above.”

This Is The Army was a highly successful stage show, set during the First World War, and, long before it became a glittery, star-packed and phenomenally entertaining movie musical. There is something genuinely endearing – if marginally static – about the care director, Michael Curtiz has taken to retain both the look and integrity of Berlin’s original stagecraft, plying cinematic touches only when absolutely necessary to freshen up dramatic portions of the story. The numbers, one more patriotic than the next, are mostly presented as stage-bound spectaculars, featuring not only the movie’s featured players – Ronald Reagan and Dennis Morgan – but more directly, members of the U.S. Army, Navy and Marines – gallant men, whose voices raised in song, have never been put to more eloquent use. Apart from Kate Smith’s ear-shattering rendition of ‘God Bless America’, one instantly recalls the eloquent musical styling of Francis Langford, whose heart-felt rendition of ‘What Does He Look Like?’ ever so slightly continues to pluck at our heartstrings; ditto for Earl Oxford’s ‘I Left My Heart at the Stage Door Canteen’. And then, there are the sublime tributes to each branch of the Armed Forces; Robert Shanley, given the lion’s share of baritone-rich flag-wavers, belting out ‘With My Head in the Clouds’, ‘American Eagles’, and ‘This Time (Is the Last Time)’ – immensely rousing ‘battle cries’ for the American soldier. At the behest of the studio, Irving Berlin was in it too, his thin and limited vocal capacity benefited by his irrefutable sincerity, oozing from every pore as he sang, ‘Oh, How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning.’

The movie’s plot, cobbled together by Casey Robinson and Claude Binyon, is superficial at best. During World War I, song and dance man, Jerry Jones (George Murphy) stages a magnificent ‘all soldier’ Broadway revue called ‘Yip Yip Yaphank’, before being conscripted into service. Wounded on the battlefield, though hardly in spirit, Jerry returns home to convalesce and becomes a successful Broadway impresario and music-publishing mogul. Together with his partner, Maxie Twardofsky (George Tobias), the men decide, with the looming crisis in Europe once again, the time is ripe for another all-out tribute to America’s valiant men in arms. The movie fast tracks to the advent of the Second World War, where Jerry’s son, Johnny (Ronald Reagan) has become something of a silent, though nevertheless conscientious, objector. After Johnny is enlisted, he decides to stage a grand revival of ‘This Is The Army’ in support of the war bond effort, along with his buddy, Sgt. McGee (Alan Hale). Alas, he runs into ghosts from his past, including the loss of a brother who flew in the Air Force. These memories impact Johnny’s current relationship with Red Cross nurse and fiancée, Eileen Dibble (Joan Leslie).

The show – an assemblage of real (as opposed to ‘reel’) enlisted men from the Armed Forces - goes on the road, touring all major U.S. cities, bringing its particular brand of flag-waving hope and promise to the masses. The show is a resounding smash. However, as the threat of real combat looms precariously in the background, Johnny’s fear over making a widow of Eileen get the better of him. He postpones their engagement indefinitely. There is really not much more to the story. What sets This Is The Army apart from other war-themed musical entertainment of its ilk and vintage is its peerless collection of Irving Berlin tunes; a finer and more sentimentally soundtrack yet to be brought together for one movie – before or since. The movie’s title tune remains Berlin’s loving lampoon to the culture shock for conscripted civilians. Other songs here celebrate the American solider at war; the U.S.’s supremacy on the sea, ‘How About A Cheer For The Navy.’ Gertrude Nielsen’s rendition of ‘Your Country and My Country’, a rebel-rousing start, and, James Cross’ That's What the Well-Dressed Man in Harlem Will Wear; a marvelous tribute to the African-American contributors to the war effort. This Is The Army ends on one magnificent proclamation of selfless servitude and commitment to peace – the aforementioned, ‘This Time’; a staggering display of military preciseness in maneuvers set against the backdrop of an art deco Uncle Sam and American Eagle, with banners, unfurled. Of all the songs, undeniably, the one that has endured the longest remains Kate Smith’s ‘God Bless America’ – the Wagnerian chanteuse, whose reputation of late has been slightly blackened by inferences of racism – raises the rafters in a rich bravado – arguably, the most stirring call to arms ever executed in war-time tribute.

But the other irrefutably ‘great’ moment in the movie belongs entirely to Berlin, reprising as he had done on the stage, his cameo as a soldier, begrudgingly adverse to revelry at the crack of dawn. No one could ever confuse Berlin’s talents as a singer with those otherwise far more eloquently expressed as the composer of songs. And yet, herein it is hardly the voice that matters. What Berlin lacks in technical proficiency, he more than makes up for with genuineness. The sight of that diminutive and ‘unprepossessing’ figure, from which all points of the great American songbook emanate, Berlin – with a glint of intermingled sadness for the world at war again, met with a twinkle to spark more than a hint of passion for victory, is a sight, forever warms the heart, as a fond memory of a beloved grandfather or uncle, now departed, but never to be forgotten. How do we love thee, Mr. Berlin? Let us continue to count the ways! Best to experience This Is The Army for what it was always intended to be – a grand and faithful recreation of Berlin’s famed stage show, updated to take advantage of the war-themed movie musical spectaculars of the mid-1940’s. Naysayers and pundits will likely suggest there is too little subtext and far too much schmaltz on tap to work for contemporary audiences. I pity the pundits. For as long as there are soldiers at war and families at home, desperately awaiting their safe return, love of country will always be fashionable. And as long as the conflict itself is set to the score of Irving Berlin’s sublime song catalog, American might will always be at the forefront of the world’s salvation and defense. God bless, America, then, now and forever – Irving Berlin too – Berlin, perhaps, most of all, and, pictures like This Is The Army forever more, the likes of which we are not ever to see again.

After decades of having to contend with the most horrendous bootlegs and the worst possible image quality, riddled in age-related damage, Warner Home Video has rescued This Is The Army from public domain, produce the definitive DVD transfer worthy of Berlin’s efforts. Were that the Warner Archive would deign to give us a Blu-ray. But I digress. On the DVD, color fidelity, while perhaps not quite as refined, is nevertheless light years ahead of anything seen on home video before. Flesh tones retain a tad pasty pink quality. But reds are blood red and blacks deep, rich and solid. Occasionally, the image can appear slightly clumpy with a loss of fine details. There are also moments where age-related artifacts become quite obvious. On the whole, however, this transfer looks beautiful. The Dolby Digital 1.0 mono is a tad strident but, owing to the quality of existing prints, has been cleaned up and will surely not disappoint. In addition to the original road show’s overture and exit music (not heard since the theatrical premiere), this disc contains a fairly comprehensive documentary on Warner Bros. contributions to the war effort, hosted by Steven Spielberg. There is also the usual Warner Night at the Movies’ litany of extras (shorts, cartoons and theatrical trailer), as well as a fascinating commentary to include reflections from actress, Joan Leslie. Given the current climate of divisive, and wildly blown out of proportion unrest in the U.S., this one comes very highly recommended! Pray for American unity, folks. Pray very hard, indeed. 

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

3.5