“In the meantime, in between time”: Films portraying the interwar era
Note: Each film reviewed has scenes, characters, or language that are objectionable. But nothing in this life is perfect, clean, always acceptable: real life is a mess, and it is into that mess that Christ wanted to come and save us. Some parts definitely need a “skip” or “fast forward,” but the author trusts the viewer is adult enough to recognize when one ought to do that.
“Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
Driven time and again off course, once he plundered
The hallowed heights of Troy. . .
Many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea. . .
Launch out on his story, Muse. . .sing for our time too.” 1
Between World War I and World War II there was discouragement, and there was hope. Five films portray this time well. To understand the films more deeply and our connection with them, I’d like to highlight eight monumental impacts the world was experiencing during the setting of the films.
First, the world had just been heavily depleted of its population: 57 million people died in WWI. That would be equivalent to 2,850 average-sized US cities or present-day England being wiped out completely. Another 50 million people would die with the onset of the Spanish flu in 1918. That’s nearly a combined two present-day Englands gone, and another war soon to come.
Second, Christendom was dying. The three main Christian empires of Russia, Germany, and the Holy Roman Empire of Austria Hungary had been killed,2 making way for democracy. . . and communism. There is no large country to stand by the truths of Holy Mother church now, no country to help man to his eternal end.
Third, the natural family unit was being torn apart, and through the woman. No longer protected by civil governments standing consistently for absolute truth, and helped by advertising, the family was besieged by feminism, abortion, birth control, contraception, and eugenics. Very quickly the family, the building block of society, began to crumble.
Fourth, WWI was originally called the “War to End All Wars”; it brought about an inverted peace, an upside-down order: the ultra-nationalism and imperialism that had fueled WWI only enabled godless socialism, democracy, and worse to flourish.
Fifth, Communism was energetically blossoming in Russia, fertilized by barbaric slaughter. Our Lady of Fatima had just appeared, the sun had danced, and Mary implored the world for prayer and penance and the consecration of Russia to her Immaculate Heart lest Russia’s errors were spread throughout the world.
Sixth, while continental Europe gasped for breath, completely ravaged by war, America reveled in the money she had made by the war.
Seventh, a world unlike any other was influencing and distracting the sorrowful survivors of the war. The artificial world created by television, journalism, advertising, entertainment, and popular music made the world smaller. Advertising constrained man’s thoughts and choices to the trend of the moment.3
Eighth, this artificial environment created a world at the “height of its material power and the depth of its spiritual emptiness.” Because of all this suffering—war, death, sickness, and the loss of Christendom—a spiritual vacuum was created. Mankind looked for meaning—and for distraction. The interwar era presented a utopia: “the salvation it promises is collective and of this world. But the earthly order is part of the heavenly order. And to reject the heavenly order is to reject reality.”4 To reject reality is what makes an insane person. Ultimately, in a world made safe for democracy by World War I, mankind was being brainwashed into forgetting where he came from. So much for the garden of Eden.
Having considered the background of the era, we can now turn to the five films reviewed here—but make sure you’ve got only a mature audience. The movies below are not for children.
The Great Gatsby, 19745
Roaring 20’s in America, here we come! This film, starring Robert Redford, is based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book, The Great Gatsby. Set during one summer in upper-class New York society in the 1920’s, the hope is revealed of a self-made man, Jay Gatsby, who has built his dreams around his war sweetheart Daisy.
The story is told to us by the eyewitness Nick Carraway, cousin to Daisy and neighbor to Gatsby. Daisy, from an old wealthy southern family, instead of waiting for Gatsby after the war, married Tom Buchanan because “rich girls don’t marry poor boys.” Regardless of the amount of money Tom has, it is clear from the beginning of the film that Tom is an unfaithful husband, chauvinistic and racist to boot, and Daisy knows it. But Daisy also avoids any difficult conversations that get to the bottom of things. Tom’s immoral behavior is portrayed as typical and to be expected of men in their circles. Daisy tells Nick of their child’s birth; she cried when it was a girl because all a girl can hope to be these days is a “beautiful fool,” she tells her cousin Nick. (The sad objectification of women was well on its way in this era.)
At the same time, Nick is let into Gatsby’s life. His unassuming, nonjudgmental comportment and conversation win Gatsby’s trust. Through Nick, we’re able to see the immense hope Gatsby has in Daisy’s love, and how hard he worked to create a fortune that would be accepted by her and her family. Gatsby’s end justified the means to achieve his American Dream.
As the story unravels, a sad tapestry is revealed: infidelity, dishonesty, an inability to confront the truth and talk about difficult things, the distractions of parties, drinking, love affairs, and extravagant trips, the veneer of status hiding shallow morals: ultimate consumerism. And no real authority—there’s no one to be beholden to, and might makes right.
If there is a God, it’s the solemn eyes of T.J. Eckleberg looking down on everyone from an old billboard advertisement for eyeglasses, but even this is up to a subjective interpretation. The only one who really stops to think about God is the desperate destitute husband of Tom’s mistress.
It may sound a little depressing, and yet this era is part of our story; this particular story can help us to be more understanding of where we came from. The conversion of souls today requires much compassion—a compassion perhaps embodied by Nick in his friendship with Gatsby. Nick stuck by Gatsby to witness his journey, stood for him when friendship was most needed, and was willing to see the ugly and the beautiful. Nick’s line, “reserving judgment is a matter of infinite hope,”6 can be so typical of non-judgmental indifferentism, but perhaps there is something of a gem here.
The Untouchables, 1987
Overlapping with Gatsby’s era in New York is the Prohibition era. During this time a group of heroes called The Untouchables brought down Al Capone in Chicago. This iconic film depicts the integrity of Eliot Ness and his few good men; it’s a classic good guy/bad guy story. This has the elements of an Indiana Jones movie (Sean Connery stars in it, and Kevin Costner wears a fedora), some Godfather aspects with Al Capone, and some tender drama with Eliot Ness’s family life.
The Untouchables tells the of an epic struggle to enforce Prohibition laws during the time when our country made it illegal to produce and sell alcohol from 1920 to 1930. It’s an insight into how Protestant America, fueled by moralizing institutions, enforced by government mandate a matter that was too intricate and prudential to be mandated away. Rather than asking “why” men might want to drink so much, or presenting a moderate way to consume alcohol, Prohibition laws created a huge and illegal market for the very thing they were trying to restrict. Bootleggers and rum runners became heroes by bringing in the spirits to the towns.
Al Capone, the mafia king of Chicago, was a huge supplier, and Eliot Ness of the Justice Department, with the help of an incorrupt crew, brought him down in an unlikely way. Where most of the people in The Great Gatsby lead lives without principle, the men in this story were not perfect, but they stood for what they believed in and were willing to lay down their lives to make the world a better place.
Be prepared for realistic heavy language and violence, redeemed by an incredible true story of how the integrity of a few good men triumph against the odds of a corrupt metropolis and bring down the giant Al Capone.
O Brother Where Art Thou, 2000
Flannery O’Connor, humor, and old-time bluegrass meet the Odyssey in this 2001 film. Set in the deep south, O Brother Where Art Thou tells the story of Ulysses Everett McGill, played by Gerard Clooney, trying to get home to his family. He has a small crew of men with him (Tim Blake Nelson), and the hope of treasure lures them all on, all the while hounded by a relentless seeker of justice. The crew has many memorable twists and turns before their journey’s end is reached.
While Ulysses makes his way home, his wife is being wooed by another, more ‘bona fide’ suitor. No Odyssey is complete without the Sirens and Cyclops, and instead of being turned into pigs, one of them is turned into a toad.
All the while the viewer is treated to, in a light-hearted way, what life would have been like in the Depression-era South with the justice system, politics, cops and robbers, radio shows, dress, good ol’ bluegrass music, and the heavier and sadder realities of white supremacy, the Ku Klux Klan oppressing its Papists, Jews, and African-Americans.
Like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, and like so many of us after a long trip, Ulysses just wants to come home, back to his Penelope and his Warby Gals. His wife doesn’t take him back so easily; this shows both her self-respect and that he cares enough about his family to do what it takes to be reunited with them.
The best part of the film, besides the great quotes, is the music. Even if bluegrass isn’t your thing, the music, drawn from that era, draws you in and sets the mood perfectly. The trick to enjoying this “picture show” is to not expect anything out of it. The quality of the movie is seen when appreciating it at face value. While this is a humorous spin of the Odyssey, it’s simply that, with a nod towards our old-time American culture. Many a person I know has sat down to see a modernized Odyssey and was disappointed. Those who approach the film with no expectations, however, will be immensely entertained.
North Face, 2008
Over in Austria, while Franz Jaggerstatter (The Hidden Life) was converting and beginning to wrestle with his religious convictions, and just over in Italy Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, an accomplished mountaineer, had just passed away, Maria had married Captain von Trapp, beginning their Sound of Music, and a particular mountain was calling to be climbed.
This German film captures the ultra-nationalism and socialism that had continued to infect the world more intensely since World War I. The North Face of the Eiger was the scene of the intense competition to be the first country to ascend the last frontier of the Alps.
Two Austrian young amateur climbers, Toni Kurz and Andi Hinterstoisser, leave their soldierly duties to climb the Eiger. Originally Toni is against it because of the serious life threat presented by the climb. But encouraged—almost pushed—by his girlfriend Louise to climb the mountain, the boys accept the challenge.
Toni and Andi arrive in their hiking outfits, poor gear compared to the sponsored Italian and German groups also making an attempt on the mountain. Louise, working for a newspaper, also arrives with her boss to cover the story.
The film, filled with the majestic scenery of the Alps, the ominous cloud of Nazism, and the unmoving mountain with its precarious ice and shifting weather, soon has you on the edge of your seat. Near misses and falls on the mountain keep your hands clenched tight, as nationalistic competition turns men into cutthroats, and hearts hurt as you see the influence of Louise, wishing she wasn’t so set on Toni tackling the mountain.
It is in the hardest moments, in spite of the intense nationalistic competition, that true sportsmanship and nobility are live out on the North Face of the Eiger.
Brideshead Revisited, 1981
While Jeeves was singing “Hodee-hodee-hodee-ho. . .sah” to Wooster, Poirot was using his little grey cells in solving a murder, Downton Abbey was being carried along by the issues of the day (and our day), the King was making his Speech, Chariots of Fire were running, Gandhi was challenging the world to practice what one preaches, and the sacred and profane memories of Charles Ryder were being made in Brideshead Revisited.
This film is a masterpiece. It was made originally made for British television, won 17 international awards, and launched the careers of the renowned Jeremy Irons and Anthony Andrews, who appear alongside a whole host of great British stars.
A very messy story, a very real story, and because it is so, Brideshead is the best of all the stories told in the films here of this era. It is the best because it embraces the guilty man while giving him redemption. Brideshead, in telling the story of a (rare) old aristocratic Catholic family in England growing up in the moral upheaval of the interwar era, tells the story of all families trying to raise children in this upside-down world. It gives hope to the present and future that God will give their children the grace they need to save their souls as they go out into the world.
Charles Ryder becomes good friends with young Sebastian Flyte of the Marchmain family, and thus becomes bound up in his family: Lord and Lady Marchmain, and their other three children, Bridey, Julia, and Cordelia. Lord Marchmain is a father who has deserted his post for his own selfish pleasure. Lady Marchmain is a loving but somewhat overbearing mother. She is strong and persevering in her faith, a perfect sorrowful mother. Charles witnesses the odyssey of each of the Marchmains as they journey through the twists and turns of life, and in his telling of their story, we see his own.
The struggles of each character are very pertinent to our day: college life, friendship, status, homosexuality, alcoholism, divorce, adultery and fornication, perseverance in the Faith, marrying for money, unmarried and plain in the eyes of the world, religious vocation, war, death. In spite of the twists and turns that each of the family and Charles go through, some sinking lower than others, and some a constant lighthouse of God’s love, God’s grace does not abandon them.
Julia’s words to Charles in one incredible scene reveal how Brideshead offers a view that resolves the other films’ stories and the story of the interwar era:
“Julia, she can’t go out, she’s got to stay in and take care of her sin . . .—Sin. It’s a word from so long ago, from nanny Hawkins stitching by the hearth and the night light burning before the Sacred Heart. Cordelia and me with the catechism, in Mummy’s room for luncheon on Sundays. Mummy carrying my sin with her to church, bowed under it. . .slipping out with it. . .Mummy dying with my sin. . .Mummy dying with it; Christ dying with it, nailed hand and foot and high among the crowds and soldiers. . .”
Like Nick, Daisy, Tom, and Gatsby, Al Capone and Eliot Ness, Toni Kutz and his crew, Ulysses, and all the rest, the Marchmains and Charles lived in the interwar era. They lived in the moral upheaval and all the impacts the world was—and still is—suffering, but trying to distract itself. Unlike any of the other films, the true reality is shown: “the earthly order is part of the heavenly order.” No matter how far the Marchmains and Charles went with their sins, “the hound of heaven” was at work. The way Charles entered Brideshead was not the same way he left it. God willing, it’s the same for us too.
Endnotes:
1 The opening lines of Robert Fagle’s translation of Homer’s The Odyssey, the ancient story of a man’s return home from years of war.
2 MacCulloch, Diarmaid. A History of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years. London: Penguin Publishing Group, 2010. Print. via Wikipedia.
3 Maclin Horton, “What the Culture War Really Is,” The Lamp, Issue 07.
4 Caryll Houselander, Guilt (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1951).
5 The 1974 film is a work of art, very discreet and yet communicating perfectly. There is a 2013 film out, but sadly, it’s an assault on the senses and doesn’t do the story justice.
6 Scott F. Fitzgerald,The Great Gatsby (Alma Classics, 2017), p. 3.
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