J'étais un prisonnier

For me, this is one of the very best WW2 films ever made. Several reasons account for that judgment, including the fact that it was made so soon after the end of the War and it was partly shot in Germany. In this film there is none of the "at ease" rubbish seen later in Stalag 17, it is told as it really was with honesty and heroism both in the Camp and back in Blighty. The British cast and those behind the cameras do a superb job throughout and the story remains as absorbing today as it was when first told in 1946. Finally, I do have to confess that my late Father was a member of the accredited 51st Highland Division and does appear on-screen for a few seconds during an a German announcement to the prisoners, so it also keeps him alive to me and my family.

Having assumed the identity of a deceased British soldier to avoid being sent to back to a concentration camp, a Czech civilian winds up at a prisoner-of-war camp where he must convince his suspicious inmates that he is not a German mole in this Ealing Studios drama. Often regarded as the first World War II P.O.W. movie, filmed in actual German locations, 'The Captive Heart' has a lot of interest to it. The screenplay is not without its flaws. The protagonist convinces the Brits of his true identity a little too quickly for credibility. There are also far too many subplots in the mix, with only Gordon Jackson as a blinded officer of any interest; the rest of the characters are bland and the episodic structure subtracts from the immediacy of the protagonist's ordeal. Michael Redgrave is superb in the lead role though with everything he has to endure, even allowing his hand to be smashed in a heart-wrenching scene in order to be able to explain the difference in his handwriting when writing letters to the wife of the soldier whose identity he took. In fact, this one of the major narrative strands of the movie with personal identity issues briefly arising as Redgrave finds that he has to fake correspondence "home" to avoid the Germans catching onto his real identity. Add in some luscious, mobile cinematography from Douglas Slocombe (note the gradual zooms-in as Jackson's bandages are removed and the exterior shots that track and pan over the soldiers at attention) and 'The Captive Heart' is a film with a lot to like about it, imperfect as it may be.

This is a deeply human and almost documentary account of the life of prisoners after Dunkirk who are not released until towards the end of the war, Michael Redgrave as the leading actor being far from alone among suffering fellow soldiers, as there is a number of tales told of dire destiny in this concentration camp of arduous fates. Redgrave is of course the most interesting case, a Czech escaped from the Germans and sought by Gestapo, hiding as an Englishman with a fake identity with suspiciously good knowledge of German, as his father was a diplomat in both London and Berlin. There is also Gordon Jackson with the loss of his sight and his despair about having to give up his betrothed, there is the family man whose wife is having a baby in his absence with that whole family story, there is the major (Basil Radford) struggling with the challenges of his responsibility, there are the sore trials used by the Germans make the camp existence more difficult than necessary for the prisoners, who nevertheless manage to break loose into comedy when an occasion arrives. It's heartrendingly human all the way, and the great love story developing in the ruins with inevitably critical consequences makes this film a definite and almost obligatory classic.

The movie is a broad photo montage of several stories--from one setting--of British soldiers who were captured early in WWII (1941) and placed in a German POW camp. Is depicts what happens to them and their loved ones, back home, as they are separated by time and space.

How do the relationships change?

How do they remain the same?

What holds them together or drives them apart?

Four years can be like a lifetime to those it affects.

This is no Stalag 17 or Hogan's Heroes-type movie. I found the movie to be very engaging and enjoyable, even as half of a long-range relationship undergoes very big changes. Changes can range anywhere from physical disability, to "Dear John" letters, to birth and/or death. The relationship often—usually—depend on letters and photos back and forth.

Having read a lukewarm review of "The Captive Heart" in Time Out (my cinema bible) and thinking, "They're bound to trash this one," I leaped to the IMDb reviews ready to play my "champion of the turkey" role. What a pleasurable surprise to find it not needed, that I am indeed at one with sympathetic users and critics alike in admiration for this rather special offering from the Ealing archive. Whereas the comedies from the West London studios are still admired with affection, their more serious fare tends to be overlooked. "The Captive Heart" is something of a forgotten treasure, a tribute in the wake of victory, to our gallant servicemen who spent much of the second world war as prisoners in German camps. It's another team piece in the mode of Carol Reed's better known "The Way Ahead" which takes a cross section of class types and closely observes their behaviour as they share an enforced coming together. It's all very stereotypical but if treated with sincerity, as in both films, a measure of character cliché can be forgiven. If the level of acting is fairly mediocre, particularly some of the women with those period prissy upper class accents, one part, that of Michael Redgrave as a Czech who has assumed the role of an English soldier killed in battle to escape being identified by the Germans, stands out for its quality. Where the film really scores is in its reminder of a time when people were really nice to one another particularly when brought together in adversity. Everyone mucks in to help, from comforting the young soldier when first confronted with the permanence of his lack of sight to the initially unsympathetic character who gives up his chance of repatriation to aid one who needs it more, welcome reminders of an age when it was generally normal rather than exceptional to emerge from the cinema feeling good.