THE MORTAL STORM: Blu-ray (MGM, 1940) Warner Archive

By 1940, the threat of Adolf Hitler’s blitzkrieg could no longer be ignored in Europe. With tenacious fingers outstretched in all directions, the continent steadily fell prey to Hitler’s demonic desire to possess it. In America, however, these ominous, assembling storm clouds of war were, as yet, not to be accepted as imminent. Indeed, American isolationism held tight, despite FDR’s best efforts to coax even the consideration of conscription. In Hollywood, at least, Hitler was being taken seriously, fueled, perhaps more so, by the close-knit community’s sudden influx of European talents fleeing Nazi persecution, if only to continue to press and crystalize the matter on celluloid. Director Frank Borzage’s The Mortal Storm (1940) is an important picture - and a very brave one; based on British writer, Phyllis Bottome’s 1937 novel of the same name. Bottome, the wife of a MI6 Brit-diplomat, had written her best seller at ground zero, stationed in Austria since 1924. In 1930, the couple relocated to Munich, where the seeds of fascism had already taken hold. And if something was lost in Claudine West, Hans Rameau and George Froeschel’s translation from page to screen, The Mortal Storm nevertheless retained the essence of Bottome’s passionate call for the preservation of humanity beyond this pending conflict about to detonate and spread its pestilence across the land. Largely, Bottome did approve of the movie, although she believed the dialogue exchanges between the Jewish professor and his son, Rudi had been distilled of their more courageous cause célèbre.

Good for box office, the picture reunited actors, James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan, previously to have made beautiful music together in Ernst Lubitsch’s The Shop Around the Corner (1940). If anything, The Mortal Storm is the absolute antithesis of that ‘buried in the sand’ optimism for a fairy-tale-esque Ruritanian Europe as depicted in ‘Shop’ and countless other pictures from the period – the gemutlich charm replaced by a sinister truth of the moment – and perhaps reflective of mankind’s evolution in general; that to pursue freedom and preserve man’s humanity remained commodities tenuously balanced against the evils of the world, eager to snuff them out at every possible opportunity. Set in a Tyrolian hamlet, The Mortal Storm illustrates the devastating impact of national socialism as it seeps into the social fabric of a close-knit community, corroding its moral judgement in the process. Interesting, in retrospect, the studio’s insistence on stockpiling the cast with familiar faces from its rising repertoire of home-grown talents, seems to crystalize the moral of this story even more; that basically ‘good’ people can be incited, even brainwashed to commit atrocities in the name of some mislaid honor. So, witnessing Father Knows Best’s Robert Young, and, dancing man, Dan Daily as socialist-inspired thugs, embracing the state-sanctioned Kool-Aid with a glint of menace, and daggers in their eyes, sends a distinct chill down the back.   

Even more haunting, again in retrospect, is how absolutely accurate the picture is in its prediction of the trajectory such national furor had, not only in Germany, but also, its devastating consequences on the world, circa 1940, yet to be fully unleashed on the European continent.  At its core, The Mortal Storm is a powerful indictment, not only of Hitler’s agenda, but also the blind-eyed passivism that had allowed it to ferment and prosper for far too long. Our story begins with a sobering prologue in which an omnipotent narrator declares, “When man was new upon the earth, he was frightened by the dangers of the elements. He cried out: ‘The gods of the lightning are angry, and I must kill my fellow man to appease them.’ As man grew older, he created shelters against the wind and the rain, and made harmless the force of the lightning. But within man himself were elements strong as the wind and terrible as the lightning. And he denied the existence of these elements because he dared not face them. The tale we are about to tell is of the mortal storm in which man finds himself today. Again, he is crying, ‘I must kill my fellow man!’ Our story asks, how soon will man find wisdom in his heart, and build a lasting shelter against his ignorant fears?”

We descend, in earnest, on the eve of Professor Viktor Roth’s (Frank Morgan) 60th birthday. Much beloved in his community, the celebration is in full swing when an announcement declares Hitler’s election a victory. While some, like Roth’s stepsons, Otto (Robert Stack) and Erich von Rohn (William Orr), and, Roth’s daughter, Freya (Margaret Sullivan), engaged to Nazi party member, Fritz Marberg (Robert Young) are overwhelmed by their satisfaction, while others, like student and family friend, Martin Breitner (James Stewart) and Roth himself fear the sinister hand of destiny now steering their country toward war.  Regrettably, the dissenters have grave cause for concern; the movie’s depiction of an old man beaten to a pulp by a cohort of Nazi thugs for not indulging in their warmongering chant, a bone-chilling reminder that in the ‘new’ Germany there is virtually no room for intellectual debate. When Roth is arrested for illustrating in his classroom that there is no physiological difference between Aryan and non-Aryan blood, the free-thinking citizens of the town consider a daring escape across the mountains.

This penultimate stab at freedom is delayed as Freya pleads with Fritz to avoid her father’s imprisonment in a concentration camp. Begrudgingly, Fritz arranges for a brief visit for Roth’s wife, Emelia (Irene Rich), imploring her to take the children and leave Germany. Alas, their loyalties torn, the family remains behind until word arrives that their beloved father has died of a ‘heart attack’.  Now, desperate to escape, Freya boards a train bound for Austria – arrested for being in possession of a manuscript written in her father’s hand. Though released from custody, her passport is revoked. Now, Freya turns to Martin for help and together they plot to ski across the unguarded mountain pass. Regrettably, the Nazis beat this information out of the farm-maid, Elsa (Bonita Granville) and a patrol is sent to intercept them. Freya and Martin are shot as they near the border, Freya dying in Martin’s arms. Later, Fritz informs Erich and Otto of their sister's death, inconsolable for his part in her death.  When Otto suggests Martin is now free to follow his own beliefs, Erich slaps his face before storming out. Otto, however, recalls with longing a time when the family were all together and contented, perhaps on the cusp of an epiphany. Borzage closes on a series of freshly laid footprints in the new-fallen snow, leading the audience to contemplate whether Otto follows Erich or goes his own path, rejecting Nazism as he makes his own bid for freedom.

Made at a time when America’s involvement in the war had not yet crystalized, The Mortal Storm’s suppression of the individual to mob phrenzy caused the American-German Ambassador to the U.S. to personally contact studio raja, Louis B. Mayer, requesting he ‘think twice’ before aborting the project, and later, demanding it should never be released. Mayer, however, did release it, and, Hitler – obviously recognizing its truth – declared a nation-wide ban on all Borage MGM movies henceforth. From the outset, Borzage effectively reconciles the two schools of thought afflicting Germany’s uncompromising conversion to national socialism; the landscape, crisply spackled in a fresh coat of Christmas-time snow, its inns and restaurants, cozy, and hearth-laden, all looking very picturesque from a distance. But drawing in closer, the audience is brought to witness the darkness afoot – beastly, brutal and fraught in a sort of warped masculinity overrun by ego, thirsty for violence and eager to express it on the most defenseless and undeserving of its wrath. Borzage’s affinity for telling stories steeped in emotional content shifts our focus from these broadest brush strokes of national socialism to the microcosm of Freya and Martin – star-crossed lovers caught in a rapidly advancing maelstrom – Borzage, exploiting his yen for romanticism as the agitate against death, darkness and despair, yet perhaps, with an intuitive understanding none of his virtues, or even the morality that is unquestionably on his side, are enough to quash pure evil.

And thus, martyrdom to a cause is the best to which Borzage can aspire; the fate of the throaty-voiced Freya, leaving her three one-time suitors, heads turned by the Nazi youth movement, to stutter, suffer and struggle with the implosion of their own pitiful and crumbling morality. Hence, the movie concludes not on a single loss, but the collective slaughter of innocence, eclipsed by a nightmarish caprice, much too devastating in its consequences to be fully comprehended as yet, even with the inevitable hardening of hearts, and the virtual abandonment of free-thinking souls. Borzage enriches his final moments in a sort of panged, elemental nostalgia, dangling from a thread of hope for the future. Yet, these are painful reminders of all that has been lost through malice, parochialism and odium for odium’s sake. And while Borzage is undeniably a sentimental film-maker at heart, beyond this tear-stained veneer we find a more supplemented and illusorily multifarious arras, interwoven with lingering thoughts being expressed in Borzage’s affecting, if subliminal, strength of conviction.

The Mortal Storm is thus a picture so close to its director’s heart, it wears Borzage’s declarative exposure of the truth subtly, but deliberately on its sleeve, every frame of celluloid imprinted with his personalized smite against the advancing chaos. While Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator (made and released this same year) chose to indict Hitler’s maniacal quest to hold dominion over the world for its sheer absurdity, Borzage’s critique of the devastation about to be wrought by Germany’s most notorious madman is squarely centered on an unvarnished reality America – at least in 1940 – was unwilling to entertain.  Nostalgia for another time and place, and the promise of more to naturally follow it if those around are willing and patient enough to wait out the storm, are misguided notions. These desperate times decidedly call for more proactive measures. To this end, we get speeches – a lot of them – though never with a preachy verve to indoctrinate; the metaphoric ‘torch’ of wisdom, passed from one generation to the next, and a Biblical reference to the burning embers that guide the soul, far superior to the light emitted from a real torch in hand, solidify Borzage’s message as well as to augment his romanticized view of the conflict at hand. James Stewart, then Hollywood’s young Turk, is marvelous as the conscientious objector. Stewart’s decision to forsake his stardom for enlistment in the war effort a year later outraged Mayer, who preferred his gallant boys to remain on home turf, fattening the studio’s coffers and, occasionally, the national treasury by selling war bonds.  

Mayer – perhaps wary of losing part of the European market – had Borzage temper several aspects of the movie to placate the German market. Although Freya and Prof. Roth are inferred to be of Jewish extraction, the distinction is never clarified beyond ‘non-Aryan’. And while the tale is clearly set in Germany, the country is rarely mentioned by name. It mattered not. Within a month of its premiere, Hitler banned all MGM product from entering Germany – an embargo to last the next 8 years. As filming on location was absolutely out of the question, all of the snowy scenery depicted in The Mortal Storm hailed from second unit location work done in Salt Lake City, Utah, and, Sun Valley, Idaho. Curiously, the score, written by Metro’s resident composer, Bronislau Kaper and Eugene Zador was credited to a pseudonym, ‘Edward Kane’. Regrettably, by the time The Mortal Storm hit theaters, the whole of Europe had been plunged into war. Thus, its timely message seemed, if apropos, then decidedly just a little behind the times.  And, if not the trailblazer of anti-Nazi war-time propaganda movies, The Mortal Storm nevertheless proved one of the most liberating stances against Hitler’s totalitarian ideal. In hindsight, what is most rewarding about the picture is its utter absence of Hollywood-ized grandstanding. Borzage’s restraint excels at telling this brutal story without actually relying on any shamelessly artistic examples to sell it. As such, providence and mystery augment our imagination, far more grotesquely inclined than the images on the screen.

The Mortal Storm has been absent from view for far too long. Despite its popularity with audiences in 1940, it somehow never received the acclaim it deserved, nor, in the intervening decades, theatrical reissues, re-play on television, or marketing push on home video. Well, that oversight has now been rectified with Warner Archive’s (WAC) new-to-Blu release, except that the results are not all that they should be. The B&W image here is decidedly soft, obfuscating the finer details in William H. Daniels’ gorgeous cinematography, ably assisted by Lloyd Knechtel and Leonard Smith (neither, receiving credit for their efforts). MGM’s usual zeal for gloss, augmented by Cedric Gibbons sublime production design, Edwin B. Willis’ art direction and Adrian’s costumes, delivers the sort of gorgeous cinematic experience one came to expect from vintage Metro product. Gray scale tonality is solid and age-related artifacts have been eradicated. But edge enhancement and shimmering of fine details is a real issue here. Spectral highlights are unstable and flicker. I have to state, I am more than a little disappointed with this release as all of the aforementioned shortcomings are from the digital mastering effort and ought to have been corrected before this title arrived to disc. Not impressed, folks! The DTS 1.0 audio sounds marvelous, with crisp dialogue and excellent clarity throughout, minus any hiss and pop. The only extra here is a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: The Mortal Storm is required viewing for anyone who considers themselves a film connoisseur. It also represents a high-water mark in Borzage’s picture-making career. Movies this good were, arguably, plentiful in the 40’s. They come along but once in a life time these days. I sincerely wish more had been done to stabilize these film elements. A ‘must have’ – period!

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

2

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