Un homme de fer

It's a good twenty years since I last saw this movie on TV and I retained very pleasant memories of it, so much so that when I saw it on DVD a couple of days ago I snapped it up. Watching it again I was equally impressed but I turned to this site with some trepidation fearing that a modern audience may find it slightly risible but I was delighted to read the many raves to which I now add my own. Several commentators have noted a thematic similarity with 'Command Decision' released one year prior to this but no one seems to have realized, or at least not mentioned, that these two movies paved the way for a spate of 'stress' type movies in the 50s, Paul Newman in 'The Rack', Tony Hopkins in 'Fear Strikes Out' (actually a true story of the Red Sox's Jim Piersall and his stress-related breakdown) and ironically Peck himself, some fifteen years later would deal with stress from the other side of the shrink's desk in his eponymous role in 'Captain Newman, MD'. But I digress; several commentators have also mentioned the framing device and again I'd like to endorse the positive comments. The movie opens in 1949 in a London street when civilian Dean Jagger leaves a London Hatters (looking remarkably like Bates in Jermyn Street) and after exchanging what seems like an innocuous bit of dialogue with two shop assistants but is really there to illustrate the difference between Americans and English, he goes on his way, stopping briefly to look at his reflection in a neighboring shop window and find himself face to face with a Toby Jug that clearly has vivid memories for him. Having purchased the Jug he is next seen cycling in the country and walking through an abandoned airfield. Although not essentially a visual film - because the talk is the important thing - helmer Henry King obtains a beautifully lyrical effect by leaving his camera on Jagger's face as the sound of airplane engines grows louder and louder and the grass begins to sway dramatically and all at once we are back in 1942 on an airfield at the heart of the still unproved, ergo still controversial 'daylight' bombing raids over Germany. Quickly, economically, we are made privy to the situation that prevails; the station has been having a lean spell, okay, they may be overworked but there are too many planes not making it back, too many elementary mistakes. Colonel Keith Davenport (Gary Merrill) is idolised by the crews not least because he flies nearly every mission himself and is clearly all but burned-out. Brigadier General Frank Savage (Gregory Peck) realizes as much in an informal conversation with his friend, Davenport, and passes on his misgivings to Major General Ben Pritchard (Millard Mitchell). Finding it difficult to believe Pritchard goes to see for himself and what he DOES see leads him to relieve Davenport of command and replace him with Savage. It's a thankless job for Savage, go in playing the heavy because the humane approach doesn't cut it in wartime. We've been here before a thousand times and we KNOW that in the end the martinet is going to crumble and win the love of the guys but as I've said before in these pages and will no doubt say again, it's all in the wrist. Peck, a fine and underrated actor gives arguably his greatest ever performance here, and he gave many great ones but in no sense does he 'carry' the film because he doesn't have to. EVERYONE involved, even Merrill and Marlowe, normally wooden actors, rise to the occasion and deliver career-best performances. Jagger's performance earned him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar and if he wasn't perhaps the Best Supporting Actor that year it is safe to say that there were none BETTER. Perhaps the most amazing thing about this film is that even now, some sixty years later when stress, combat fatigue, maximum effort, etc have long been identified as medical conditions we can still watch this film with first-time eyes and enjoy it to the full. 9/10

The picture brings back the memories of excitement, terror and relief. Its a picture that the authors bring out. I knew the commanding officer portrayed by Gregory Peck, a Colonel Frank Armstrong, a replacement for Col. Overacker. Gregory Peck was a BG. The only error I saw was in the MGDb write up. Your article sites the planes as B-24 rather than B-17. We were first division originally sent to England to be transferred to North Africa. The 918 Bomb Group in the picture is 3 times 306 = 918 thats how they identified them. We had 87% casualty rate; 287 of us flew to England on Oct 21 1942, 87 survived, and are passing away rapidly now. I was 19 as a bombardier-navigator,flew two tours; the second was a pilot. The picture is my ideal. I have three copies of it and view whenever I feel depressed. Thanks for my connection of the past Im78 and need a boost eversince I gave up drinking and smoking. Horace Corigliano

Without any question, indisputably the greatest WWII film ever (except, perhaps for "Bridge on the River Kwai"; but that's a WWII story only in the same sense that "Moby Dick" is a book about a whale). There are no weaknesses in this movie. The screenplay is perfect, rooted as it is in the historical reality of the U. S.'s attempt to prove the superiority of Daylight Precision Bombing over the Brits favored strategy of night bombing. The terrible human pressures it placed on young American pilots AND their leaders has never been so well-portrayed on film. Dramatic tension is perfectly manipulated, and the characters are well-drawn, sympathetic and fully developed. Every member of this superb cast gives this great material the great acting it deserves. The usage of actual WWII bombing footage adds to the sense of reality. The psychological drama - what "maximum effort" does to people - is at the core of the story and supercedes the mere military aspect. And the device of the framing scenes - Harvey Stovall (Dean Jagger) recollecting the story while standing in the abandoned airstrip - is brilliant. It gives the tale an overwhelmingly bittersweet feeling of "long-ago" nostalgia. It is so powerful that Spielberg must have consciously had 12 O'clock High in mind when he used the same device in Saving Private Ryan to make that whole film a flashback, just as this one is. To hell with the flashy flamboyance of Citizen Kane; I would have to give 12 O'clock High a better shot at being "the best movie ever made". One mark of the film's realistic portrayal of psychological issues in warfare is that for many years it was required viewing in many military leadership classes. Film buffs &/or devotees of WWII history who haven't seen this one are living a deprived existence.

"Twelve O'Clock High" is my favourite WWII film; perhaps my favourite 'Gregory Peck' film; and perhaps even my favourite 'male' film of all time. If you didn't know it, 'Twelve O'Clock High' was once many men's favourite war film of all time. How many people know about this now-obscure movie or realize the weight of its faded prestige, I wouldn't like to guess. The number certainly decreases with each generation. To discover it on late night television, however, is the reward for the patient seeker of 'quintessentially American' films.

'Twelve O'Clock High' is essentially the best depiction of a particular theatre of World War II--the extremely hazardous, aerial daylight bombing campaign over Germany. This film is the archetype for that entire lineage of war film. But it is memorable for its strong performances rather than well-directed battle scenes. In fact there are no battle scenes except for borrowed aerial combat footage. Yet few other films have the look of a 'big' WWII film better than this one--even though it is shot mostly indoors or in cramped cockpits.

Gregory Peck plays an Air Force commander in England in 1943. His performance here is one of Hollywood's icons. Peck is at his best-- taut, controlled, and powerful; flawless throughout every scene as a sensitive air commander forced to whip and browbeat a demoralized and resentful B-24 squadron back into peak efficiency. Peck runs roughshod over his new outfit, but he has a secret achille's heel--he fears he will grow too fond of the men he commands, the emotional link rendering him as ineffective as his predecessor (played by Gary Merrill).

There are crisp, well-directed scenes where the stiff-necked Peck rides his men with extra fury in order to steel himself against all attachments. Yet as we and Peck learn by the end of the film, it is impossible. Despite Peck's best preventive measures, the squadron continues to suffer heavy casualties, and Peck, no matter how hard he resists, is drawn into an emotional attachment with the young pilots he must order into battle each morning.

All soldiers know that comradery is the sharpest of double-edged swords during combat. You can never predict when you will lose a buddy--thus its a common practice for soldiers to keep their relationships light. This storyline has been treated loosely by a slew of later films, but never as successfully as it is done here. Every aspect of the emotional hazards of this type of wartime bond is fully dissected, and the film is filled with scenes containing extraordinary close-ups where the actor's facial expressions alone reveals the character's bitten-back response. This is especially gripping during the film's many vehement, man-to-man exchanges involving discipline, implied cowardice or dereliction of duty.

In particular there are two wonderful subplots to the film: look for the subtle interplay between Peck and Gary Merrill (the brother officer Peck is forced to replace) with regard to the "filling of someone else's shoes" and an actual pair of flyer's boots that they borrow back and forth between them. Then there is another bit of business between Peck and a recalcitrant executive officer, Hugh O'Brian.

The scenes between Peck and O'Brian, in particular, will almost make you wince, if you have ever in your life been chewed out by anyone or tried to 'measure up' to what you thought was expected of you. The relationships between Peck and the other officers exposes issues about the choices men must make about each other and about their duty in wartime; and lays bare the emotions involved when they are forced to depend on one another; as well as what happens when they are forced to fail one another. Its simply outstanding.

'Twelve O'Clock High' stands quietly in the ranks of the few really great American films, without any ego or hype. If you can still remember how important it can be to feel part of a team, even if it was only on a kickball or dodge-ball field that when you last had that feeling then you will admire this film. Dean Jagger won a Best Supporting Actor for his role as the reservist, and there are fine performances from every other actor as well. Millard Mitchell, an absolutely wonderful character actor, is without peer in a role he played often, that of a salty WWII general. And Peck, as we know, walks away with his role.

If you have ever pondered what the real meaning of over-used words like 'loyalty' and 'devotion' mean then this film is for you. The unfettered treatment of these hard-to-pin-down ideals is what makes it one of the few really great war films, for my money (yes, guys, sorry to say, its better than "The Great Escape").

When you are tired of watching the endless parade of "smart" "slick" and "funny" films, all filled with frivolous, stereotype-mocking characters, rent this one to see the real thing.

I first saw TOH about 30 years ago, and, yes, it was at a management training course. Video wasn't common then; so it was projected onto a screen, I remember, which was a bonus. I wasn't sure about management principles, but it went straight onto my ten greatest films list, where it remains. A few reasons why I think it's a great war film.

Following the intro with Dean Jagger, the action gets off to a good start with the B17 crash landing, a man staggering out to vomit, a reference to a wounded man's brain being visible and an account of Bishop's bravery. This is strong stuff for 1949.

It avoids a lot of war film clichés. There's no love interest (there's even a nod to the fact that the men weren't always faithful to their loved ones back home). There's no attempt to create a group of men who represent the breadth of society back home. You know the sort of thing - the New York cabbie, the young farm boy, the Texan, the idealistic schoolteacher, the journalist, the architect who's now bombing things that he once built. And it's about failure, it's about men destroying their bodies and their minds for something they don't understand. It reminds me of the colour-sergeant's reply to a soldier in Zulu, who asks 'Why us?'. 'Because we're 'ere, lad. Just us. Nobody else.' If I wanted to sound pretentious, I'd use the word 'existential'.

It's about leadership and is similar to Nortwest Passage. Both Spencer Tracy in that film and Peck in this are aware that they are putting on an act. One of the great scenes is Peck arriving at the base. He's sitting in the front of the car. They stop and Peck offers his driver, whom he calls 'Ernie', a smoke. He thinks for a while, then grinds out his cigarette, says, 'Right, sergeant.' His driver snaps open the rear door and Peck becomes the general. Northwest Passage again - Tracy says 'I'm not a man now, I'm an officer responsible for men. If you meet me when I'm just a man, you might have to use a little charity.' Other nice touches: the way the fur-lined RAF boots become the symbol of leadership. The way the real-life footage is dovetailed into the main action, a tribute to the war-time cameramen as much as the editor. Notice how they filmed detail like empty shells falling to the aircraft floor.

So how could a film about military leadership help a local government manager, of all people. I couldn't bust people or demote them easily, rearrange their duties with a stroke of the pen. I would have loved to set up a leper colony, but the union wouldn't let me. But Peck's stressing of the need for pride in one's group is something that can be transferred to any walk of life.