J'étais un prisonnier

The prison camp is, in many ways, a metaphor for wartime Britain and its postwar hopes and aspirations. 'All sorts and conditions of men' are herded together in the camp, and despite the underlying tension, the boredom, and the self doubts, they must try and get along with each other. Indeed, it goes far deeper than that - they must try and look out for each other and protect each other.

And so they encourage the blind lad in his efforts to learn brail and come to terms with his blindness. A young 'tearaway' (a pre-war thief)comes to realise that even he has something to contribute. As the others try and think up a way of protecting the identity of a Czech hiding amongst them, he confesses that he knows how to open a safe, and can break into the orderly office and destroy the incriminating evidence.

There are little touches of humanity in terrible situations. The order is issued to manacle the prisoners as a reprisal for some Allied slight (this actually happened), and the elderly German reservist guard tries to indicate to the blind prisoner that he is only 'obeying orders' and doesn't want to do it. The invalid wife of a prisoner is told, back in England, that it is too risky to have her husbands baby, but she sacrifices herself in the hope that he will have a child to come home too. The blind lad tries to put off his girlfriend because he doesn't want to be a burden to her.

Some people find the main plot line a little contrived, but it is fascinating to see two strangers fall in love through a pretence.

And so wartime Britain entered the postwar world with all its hopes and fears. Sadly, with no visible common enemy to unite them, many of these hopes of a common caring humanity were not to be realised.

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.

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.

In Stalag 17 there's a famous scene and line where the audience who now knows that Peter Graves is an agent is pitching horseshoes and trying to obtain information, as he lands one, an off screen voice says 'that's a ringer.'

The British prisoners, mostly from Dunkirk, who because of capture sat out the war have a ringer among them in The Captive Heart. It's Michael Redgrave, but his is not an espionage mission. He's a Czech who's escaped from a concentration camp and found himself on the battlefield where the defenseless British have surrendered. He takes the identity and uniform of a dead officer and is then 'caught' by the Germans.

To keep up the deception Redgrave writes letters back to his 'wife' in the United Kingdom, played by his real life wife Rachel Kempson. She and her real husband have not gotten along and truth be told his call up for war was greeted with some relief. But Redgrave wrote such poetical stuff she falls for him by correspondence.

Although Redgrave's story is the main plot line, there are others that are nicely acted. Young Gordon Jackson goes blind because of lack of proper care for his wounds and he gives a touching performance. And chief officer of the prisoners, Basil Radford is an inspiring leader among them, trying to keep up morale as best he can.

The Captive Heart is a tandem pulling of the strings on the auricle and ventricle of the viewer. It's a fine wartime romantic drama with equal accent on the war and the romance. It was done just as Michael Redgrave was reaching his heights as one of the United Kingdom's premier players. Try not to miss it if it is broadcast.

This is an immensely sensitive and very moving film about British POWs rounded up by the Germans at Dunkerque (Dunkirk) in 1940 and marched 220 miles to be interned for the rest of the War in a German POW camp. The film is half about them and half about their lives and loves back home, utilising flashbacks as well as real time events intercut with the men in the camp. The technique is carried out so well that it is highly effective and never seems forced. Much of the film was made in Germany, including the reconstruction of the POW camp. The film aimed for absolute authenticity, and was made with the passion and intensity which was perhaps only possible in the year immediately following the War, when all the issues raised were at their peak of relevance, both to the people making the film and the viewing public. The film is full of wonderful, sensitive and deeply-felt performances. They all really put their hearts into it, and it shows. For instance, rarely can the character actor Mervyn John have embodied such pathos. And the intensity of emotion conveyed by both Rachel Kempson and Jane Barrett is remarkable. Barrett died tragically young at the age of only 46, in 1969, having worked a great deal in television but never obtained the quality roles worthy of her in feature films. Thus she is little known today, but this film shows her qualities admirably. This was one of director Basil Dearden's finest films. He made it immediately after his two episodes of DEAD OF NIGHT (1946), and three years later he directed two episodes of the wonderful classic, TRAIN OF EVENTS (1949, see my review), one of which also dealt with prisoners of war. (The ironical thing is that Dearden made films all through the War and was not in the services, so had no military experience.) It is apparently in this film that Dearden's long professional association with Michael Relph commenced. Relph was both Associate Producer and Art Director on this film. Later he would produce most of Dearden's films. The lead role in this film is played by Michael Redgrave. He had already been married to Rachel Kempson for eleven years when they played in this film together. Redgrave plays a Czech soldier who has escaped from Dachau and is being hunted by the Germans. He speaks perfect English and indeed has been Professor of English at Prague University. He comes across the dead body of Captain Geoffrey Mitchell, a British officer, and takes his identity and uniform, is captured by the Germans and sent to the POW camp as an Englishman. The real Mitchell had been estranged from his wife (played by Rachel Kempson). Redgrave is forced to engage in correspondence with his 'wife' in order to convince the Germans that he is not an impostor. He smashes his right hand so that he is forced to write with his left, as a way of excusing the change of hand-writing to his 'wife'. They then exchange increasingly passionate letters to one another over the years, leading to an awkward situation when the War finally nears its end and Redgrave is 'repatriated' to England as Captain Mitchell. There are wonderful character parts for Gordon Jackson, Jack Warner, Gladys Henson, and others. Derek Bond is excellent as a sensitive concert pianist, Lieutenant Harley. The following year he was to make a big hit as Nicholas Nickleby in the film of that (1947). He never achieved lasting star status, and died as recently as 2006 after appearing in 67 titles. This film, done with such passion and integrity, is a classic of the time, and makes compulsive viewing today considering what it conveys of historical importance, of the manners, situations, and modes of feeling of that period.