Guerre et Paix

King Vidor's WAR AND PEACE was never going to do proper justice to Tolstoy's massive novel, certainly not at four hours and certainly not in production code era Hollywood, but for what it is, it is a decent spectacle. I'm not crazy about the film myself (but it must be noted that 1950s biblical and historical epics are genres I have no use for), though I am glad I watched it if only for one thing: Audrey Hepburn as Natasha. She was rarely as perfectly cast as she was here. The same cannot be said for Henry Fonda (too old) or Mel Ferrer (not that great an actor in general).

This epic has the reputation for being a limp, lifeless, mechanical thing; a vulgar simplification of Tolstoy. The latter accusation is partly correct, and thank goodness for it. War and Peace, the novel, has many great things, but also many excrescences: it goes on way too long, padded out with tediously detailed philosophies and theories of war; it also studiously refuses loose ends.

There are flaws. The script, though a model of clarity (unlike most literary adaptations, which concentrate on all the big set-pieces, creating narrative confusion), but short on inspiration. There is a dispiriting, unimaginative reliance on voiceover, and unnecessary soliloquys. The whole thing also goes on way too long.

Mel Ferrer is, without doubt, the worst actor in the world; he plays the dashing, tragic Prince Andrei with all the vigour of a mouldy plank. His part is pivotal, narratively, thematically and symbolically, so he features in a lot of scenes where his monotonous lack of expression makes the film stop dead. Henry Fonda, in many ways ideal as the Tolstoy altar-ego Pierre, who must move morally from observer to actor, is frequently defeated by the terrible dialogue, making this wonderful actor seem clumsy and amateurish. (Herbert Lom, however, manages to suggest great humanity behind the hammy pomp of Napolean).

I only mention these faults to show that the film's critics have their point. I also suggest that WAR AND PEACE is nearly a masterpiece for two reasons. King Vidor, whose work I'm largely (and shamefully) unfamiliar with, directs this film with awesome, authoritive lightness of touch. He pays respectful lip service to the big Tolstoyan themes, focusing particularly on families, the relations between parents and children, old traditional reactionary Russia, and the tentative, youthful impulse towards freedom.

I say lip-service, because his main interest in the film lies elsewhere. It lies in the expression of the emotional life of his characters. For although the film is a massive historical epic, it works best as a domestic melodrama. Characters, who can't express themselves in this hierarchical society, are allowed a voice through the film's direction, which forsakes literal realism, to tell us what is going on in their heads (and hearts). Exaggerated colour and carefully contrived composition offer us a second, more subtle and personal story, to the main, surface narrative. This might make WAR AND PEACE a more right-wing work, ignoring the processes of history and the plight of the serfs, in favour of sympathising with a caste of slave-owners, but Hollywood was never very good at socio-economic analyses.

Vidor's other great theme seems to be nature, and man's relation to it. He has little interest in invoking a real nineteenth century Russia; his Moscow is as exquisitely artificial as Sternberg's THE SCARLET EMPRESS, and his use of architecture and space to both show the distances between people, and the the fathomless emptiness of the soul, is positively Antonionian. With the natural world, however, there is a real feeling, beyond mere backdrop scenery, that is unthinkable in any contemporary Hollywood film. Primarily a movie about people and history, it is eternal nature that watches on, the battles, deaths, retreats. Indeed, it is nature that saves the Russian people, in the face of massive military odds, and it is nature that frames the melancholy, yet hopeful, resolution. (It's also interesting to ask why, at the heighth of the Cold War, Hollywood should decide to make a great Russian epic? To tastelessly evoke a 'glorious' pre-Soviet past? Or to enjoy the razing of Moscow to the ground?)

The second reason to love this film is, of course, the incomparable, beautiful, Audrey Hepburn. She is so right as Natasha (when I read the book as a kid, I pictured Audrey all the way through, without even knowing she had played her on film), the saviour of the book, as well as the film. It is one of the great performances - its modernity and truth blows away the dusty period conventions (indeed, at her first ball, she is as moving as a 50s teenager at her prom). Her intelligence, insight, passion (and she is a lot more erotic in this film than her supporters ever give her credit for) and grace are perfectly in tune with Vidor's conception, and her scenes have an extraordinary emotional force. She is the life of the film, and its moral centre in the absence of a convincing Pierre. The film plods to a slow death without her. The film essays three moral developments - Natasha's, Pierre's and Andrei's, but hers is the most moving and tragic. The change to sadness and understanding of the once gay and vivacious Natasha seems a terrible loss.

Quite a disappointing story about some people that get involved with each other. This makes the movie some swooning story about love (one might say it becomes some sort of Jane Austen story, which is not altogether bad, but has nothing to do with Tolstoy) It fails to capture the book's most beautiful moments: -Rostow's 'tremendous courage' when he flee-ed from advancing enemy forces after being wounded by his own horse. (Which showed the stupidity of war) -Pierre's duel (which is included, but not in very satisfying way (for instance, it misses Pierre's certainty that he would die in the duel and his flirt with death)) and the following conversion to freemasonry

What is worse, the film goes against the spirit of the book, when it emphasis's the prophesying moments. (While the book shows the exact counter case: the complete unpredictability where things would go next) Although I wouldn't name this a good effort to make a film out of 'War and Peace', I don't think it can be done in any satisfying way.

I've read the book and seen this version several times. The main drawback is of course time.

Thus, it must inevitably slight: a) many of the characters who bring joy to reading the novel - the princely father of the Kuragins, Sonja's story, Nicholas falling in love with Marya, the forgiveness by Bolkonsky (Ferrer) of Anatole Kuragin when his leg is amputated on a table beside which he is lain out, etc. and b) much of the philosophy contained in the book - whether about the masons or the purpose of life.

However, as a sort of highlights version of the novel, I thought it dealt well with the main lines of the plot.

It also is clearly 1950s film-making. There is little sense indoors of the lighting of the time, the sets look generally clean or deliberately destroyed (rather than mysterious and gloomy). In fact, the entire film appears all too clearly delineated - there is little of the kind of murkiness one would find in such a movie being made today - say, the way Schindler's List looks - or The Last Emperor looks.

The movie is also benefitted by having Audrey Hepburn, Anita Ekberg and John Mills - physically they are EXACTLY what I imagined of these characters - and I thought Mills and Hepburn were excellent. (And what Ekberg lacked in ability to convey emotion, she gained from her jaw-dropping embodiment of the buxom blonde!). The Henry Fonda choice for Bezuhov is an odd one - he's not the first person I think of when I think of a huge heavy awkward bear of a man. He did the best he could but was clearly miscast. Prince Bolkonsky (the father) and the Count and Countess Rostov were first rate - so were the choices for Napoleon, Homolka as Kutuzov, Kuragin, Dolokhov and the Rostov family. Mel Ferrer was ok - but imagine, say, the Terence Stamp of Far From the Madding Crowd and how he could have done.

All in all, this is clearly a movie of its time in cinematography, sets, the clearly drawn lines of the script - but it is entertaining and does about as well as possible in dramatizing in 3 1/2 hours a book of over 1000 pages.

This film version of Tolstoy's novel nicely captures the essence of his story. The VistaVision, Technicolor photography by Jack Cardiff give the the set pieces the look of a classic painting. Nino Rota's lavish score perfectly compliments the visuals. The casting is superb; and even though Fonda is physically wrong in the critical role of Pierre, his dignified persona makes up for it. Hepburn, as ever, is radiant as Natasha, and hits her marks perfectly. Anita Ekberg's superstructure alone brings Helene to life; Ferrer, Homolka and Mills are all, likewise, wonderful in this. The largely underappreciated Herbert Lom is absolutely brilliant as Napoleon. Practically speaking, this is a notable film adaptation of an enormous literary work, inspite of any comparisons one would care to make between the book and the movie.