Such a cliché, but... possibly THE greatest film ever made.
What can be said about A Matter of Life and Death that hasn't already been stated? What combination of words can do justice to the visual poetry created by our intrepid filmmakers? Yet here I am, rummaging through my mind to find such words to explain my devotion to this visual extravaganza of pure cinematic ecstasy.
This is a film that entices the viewer with an image of love so unashamedly romantic, so achingly beautiful, that one could write five pages of gushing critique without even mentioning the competence of its makers or the extent of their excess - and believe me, this is a film filled with excess. Similarly, one could easily devote as much space to describing the intricacies of the script; the narrative experimentations, the juxtaposition of reality and fantasy, love and death, war and peace, woman and man and so-on. We could discuss the subtle beauty of the film's climax; that 'only in the movies' mentality that, in the hands of other [lesser] filmmakers, would come across as either disgustingly sentimental or completely false. The Archers don't have this problem; they create such an intoxicatingly dense reality, not only with the opening scenes of Peter's bomber engulfed by flames, but with the film's fantastical [literally stellar] introduction.
We have the use of voice over - a comforting [obviously BBC radio inspired] voice - describing to us with very calm reassurance the intricate workings of everything from heaven and earth and the cosmos to the notion of humanity and fate. There is no way of explaining just how audacious this would have been considered at the time of the film's release, demonstrating the notion of inter-textual pastiche long before post-modernism became the buzz word of the western world. No other filmmaker has ever attempted such a daring use of narration since, with the possible exception of Greenaway with A Zed & Two Noughts. However, the Archers aren't simply concerned with being clever, because for all the tricks and turns the film takes, it never loses sight of its central concern... the gloriously realised depiction of love. The love in A Matter of Life and Death is of ecstatic yearning, of youthful ebullience and giddy glee; so wonderfully personified by the characters of Peter and June.
This is a film that is constantly building and revealing its self, offering us something [be it external or internal] that is absolutely jaw dropping. The realisation of heaven as a monochromatic abyss, filled with lost souls that watch silently like curious children as the celestial court is held must be one of the most stunning images of the twentieth century. Even more rapturous is the depiction of the real world, with its luminous Technicolor and jarring camera angles. Every element of cinematic technique only adds to the joy of the film; the bold colours, the intoxicating use of the camera as a spectator, with its god like compositions and almost ecstatic use of movement. The editing is rhythmic; dissolving, jumping, matching, and fading... it carries us along with the characters, creating excitement out of the most mundane of tasks [the table-tennis for example]. And this is the point of the film, this image of a bureaucratic heaven, with its militant orderliness, its 'Americanised' regimes, its stern councillors, and eccentric Frenchmen. Compare it to the mid-night picnic, the dinner scenes at the doctor's house, even the image of the naked shepherd boy and the deserted coastal wasteland and we have a depiction life's true splendour.
There's also politics, satire, bravado, stiff-upper-lipped heroism, dementia, longing, loneliness, love, death, patriotism... and so much more than that. There is also the mirroring of war within the film's subtext; e.g. the depiction of battle, the consequences of fate, the crossing of boarders, the rivalry between the US and Great Britain, the forming of allies, the French as traitors, the image of the English soldier lost amidst a foreign [possibly alien] landscape, etc. Then we have the acting, with every performance a standout. Niven is both helpless and heroic as Peter, teetering between life and death but never loosing his charm. Livesey, as the doctor, the father figure, and so much more - who watches the town below from his camera obscurer like some kind of god - comes to represent the voice of science, of intelligence and above all else, reason. And finally Kim Hunter as June; stern, loving, confident, honest... and without a doubt the most gorgeous woman to ever grace the silver screen.
A Matter of Life and Death is a film that transcends the art of criticism; writers of my ineptitude could never do justice to its beauty no matter how hard we try. All I can do is urge you to experience this film... to bathe in its beauty... bask in its ideas and worship the genius on display. This is more than just a classic of British cinema; this is the reason for cinema's very existence, a film so powerful in its design that the mere mention of its title should compel us to seek it out. Now how many films can rival that?
This is a film that entices the viewer with an image of love so unashamedly romantic, so achingly beautiful, that one could write five pages of gushing critique without even mentioning the competence of its makers or the extent of their excess - and believe me, this is a film filled with excess. Similarly, one could easily devote as much space to describing the intricacies of the script; the narrative experimentations, the juxtaposition of reality and fantasy, love and death, war and peace, woman and man and so-on. We could discuss the subtle beauty of the film's climax; that 'only in the movies' mentality that, in the hands of other [lesser] filmmakers, would come across as either disgustingly sentimental or completely false. The Archers don't have this problem; they create such an intoxicatingly dense reality, not only with the opening scenes of Peter's bomber engulfed by flames, but with the film's fantastical [literally stellar] introduction.
We have the use of voice over - a comforting [obviously BBC radio inspired] voice - describing to us with very calm reassurance the intricate workings of everything from heaven and earth and the cosmos to the notion of humanity and fate. There is no way of explaining just how audacious this would have been considered at the time of the film's release, demonstrating the notion of inter-textual pastiche long before post-modernism became the buzz word of the western world. No other filmmaker has ever attempted such a daring use of narration since, with the possible exception of Greenaway with A Zed & Two Noughts. However, the Archers aren't simply concerned with being clever, because for all the tricks and turns the film takes, it never loses sight of its central concern... the gloriously realised depiction of love. The love in A Matter of Life and Death is of ecstatic yearning, of youthful ebullience and giddy glee; so wonderfully personified by the characters of Peter and June.
This is a film that is constantly building and revealing its self, offering us something [be it external or internal] that is absolutely jaw dropping. The realisation of heaven as a monochromatic abyss, filled with lost souls that watch silently like curious children as the celestial court is held must be one of the most stunning images of the twentieth century. Even more rapturous is the depiction of the real world, with its luminous Technicolor and jarring camera angles. Every element of cinematic technique only adds to the joy of the film; the bold colours, the intoxicating use of the camera as a spectator, with its god like compositions and almost ecstatic use of movement. The editing is rhythmic; dissolving, jumping, matching, and fading... it carries us along with the characters, creating excitement out of the most mundane of tasks [the table-tennis for example]. And this is the point of the film, this image of a bureaucratic heaven, with its militant orderliness, its 'Americanised' regimes, its stern councillors, and eccentric Frenchmen. Compare it to the mid-night picnic, the dinner scenes at the doctor's house, even the image of the naked shepherd boy and the deserted coastal wasteland and we have a depiction life's true splendour.
There's also politics, satire, bravado, stiff-upper-lipped heroism, dementia, longing, loneliness, love, death, patriotism... and so much more than that. There is also the mirroring of war within the film's subtext; e.g. the depiction of battle, the consequences of fate, the crossing of boarders, the rivalry between the US and Great Britain, the forming of allies, the French as traitors, the image of the English soldier lost amidst a foreign [possibly alien] landscape, etc. Then we have the acting, with every performance a standout. Niven is both helpless and heroic as Peter, teetering between life and death but never loosing his charm. Livesey, as the doctor, the father figure, and so much more - who watches the town below from his camera obscurer like some kind of god - comes to represent the voice of science, of intelligence and above all else, reason. And finally Kim Hunter as June; stern, loving, confident, honest... and without a doubt the most gorgeous woman to ever grace the silver screen.
A Matter of Life and Death is a film that transcends the art of criticism; writers of my ineptitude could never do justice to its beauty no matter how hard we try. All I can do is urge you to experience this film... to bathe in its beauty... bask in its ideas and worship the genius on display. This is more than just a classic of British cinema; this is the reason for cinema's very existence, a film so powerful in its design that the mere mention of its title should compel us to seek it out. Now how many films can rival that?
- Nriks
- Aug 22, 2003