Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 19-July-09
Spoiler Rating: Medium

A Matter of Life and Death (1946)

In the tradition of Here Comes Mr. Jordan and both versions of Heaven Can Wait, A Matter of Life and Death finds a man pleading his case at the gates of a world beyond. David Niven is a British pilot who bails out of a flaming plane without a parachute and miraculously survives. Kim Hunter is the American servicewoman to whom he spoke what he thought were his last words and with whom he falls in love after returning to land. Their happiness hits a snag when Niven is visited by a fop (Marius Goring) who hails from heaven or thereabouts and informs him that he must undergo the death he eluded before. Upon demanding an appeal, Niven is granted a few days to find counsel and work up an argument for his continued stay on Earth.

While I enjoyed A Matter of Life and Death, it occurred to me that I might have despised it at a different time or in a different mood. It deals with subjects which one must be in the right frame of mind to contemplate and is inventive in a way that could appear over-arty. Frequent collaborators Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger use a number of striking sets to depict the realm beyond death, such as a celestial escalator bordered by statues of giants from human history. They also shift between vibrant technicolor and stark black-and-white to denote the two planes. However, they wisely allow the viewer to sidestep the metaphysical aspects of the story if desired. During his grace period Niven is tended by a heroic doctor (Roger Livesey) who believes his visions are the result of brain damage. The doctor recommends immediate surgery, so Niven ends up physically grappling with death at the same time his future is debated on high.

The trial is the weak point of the film. I am not sure what Powell and Pressburger were trying to say, but it drags on too long and consists of a contrast between the United States and Britain which has nothing to do with Niven's predicament. (I had the same complaint of non-relevance about The Devil and Daniel Webster. Perhaps filmmakers enjoy wading into matters of life and death but are wary of plumbing their depths. Or perhaps nationalism was too tempting in the 1940s.) What is relevant to Niven's predicament is that he fell in love. His case finally rests on the fact that love can sway the course of fate. This notion is equally bold as the movie's other themes and modes of expression, yet it serves to ground the conclusion in hopes for here and the hereafter.

Copyright © 2009 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.