“The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp” (1943)

The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp

Grade: A

Directed with graceful aplomb and in sumptuous Technicolor by the influential British filmmaking team of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (a.k.a. The Archers), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp — which patiently tells the life story of a career soldier — is perhaps the most singularly British movie ever made. It’s a classic: elegant, sophisticated and filled with hilarious satire. A few more notes on The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp:

Directing:

Powell and Pressburger’s previous films (49^th Parallel and One of Our Aircraft Is Missing) had been propaganda pictures designed to boost British morale during World War II. Despite on-the-nose intentions, the movies benefitted from gripping storylines and confident directing. And even though The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is strongly jingoistic, the film transcends politics and nationalism by way of its epic yet unassuming structure.

Colonel Blimp is the Archers’ first color film, and the team completely takes advantage of all the dazzling production tools at their disposal. As the movie goes through the various stages of Major-General Clive Wynne-Candy’s life (a live representation of the famous comic strip character), the set design is beautiful to behold in every frame. This visual consistency is why the film remains so engrossing throughout its 160-minute runtime. Likewise, Colonel Blimp maintains a relaxed tone that never wavers. There is plenty of action and tragedy, but the movie is always a comforting watch no matter the circumstances.

Acting:

Because of Roger Livesy’s performance, Major Candy is one of my favorite movie characters ever. He’s charismatic and charming, with every line delivery filled with perfect comedic timing and sardonic wit. As he ages throughout the movie — a remarkable transformation aided by state-of-the-art prosthetics — Livesy leans further and further into the role of outspoken yet respectable English gentleman. He is terrific in every scene.

But Livesy isn’t the only star performer. Typical of Powell and Pressburger movies, the rest of the cast is equally excellent, with Deborah Kerr (as three different yet remarkably similar ladies throughout Candy’s life) and Anton Walbrook (as a sympathetic anti-Nazi German soldier) also providing memorable characterizations.

Writing:

The ambitious storyline — which starts in present-day London before leading to a lengthy flashback that stops in 1902 Berlin and 1918 France and works its way back to the beginning — reminds me of Yankee Doodle Dandy’s biopic structure. Both films are perfect examples of how to tell an all-encompassing life tale: focus on characterization rather than plot. It’s what makes Powell and Pressburger films so unique and unpredictable.

Although it’s unfortunate that Colonel Blimp quickly glosses over some seemingly major events (there are three offscreen deaths), the story is one of enduring honor, service and friendship. That the Archers make a nearly three-hour epic out of such simple and universal themes is no small feat.

Music:

Polish composer Allan Gray delivers a rich orchestral score (with occasional jazzy overtones) that enhances the film’s already-impeccable presentation. From the opening credits to the closing, Gray’s symphony perfectly echoes the story’s emotional beats without ever becoming too cumbersome.

Ending (SPOILERS):

Unlike the title implication, the immortal colonel doesn’t die. But his way of life does. Nevertheless, he faces death with dignity: Candy is an old romantic who never loses his sense of decency and civility, who plays by the rules and pines for the days when wars were fought with honor. Gone are the days when right was might, and enemies could become friends. As his career comes to an end, Candy remains stuck in his ways, and we have no choice but to applaud and even envy his perceived stubbornness.

By turning a bumbling caricature into such a lovable, inspirational and genuine character study, Powell and Pressburger give us nostalgic optimism for the old ways while also providing a warning to the increasing bleakness of modern society. In its depiction of traditional British values, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is propaganda you can be proud of. But with an added layer of self-abasing satire in case you become too pigheaded: how many other WWII-era films are empathetic to Germans?

“I was a soldier when you were a baby. And before you were born, sir, when you were nothing but a toss-up between a girl’s and a boy’s name, I was a soldier then.” — Major-General Clive Wynne-Candy

Why The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp gets an A:

In its distinguished Britishness and rich characterization, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is a masterclass in production, presentation and pitch-perfect acting.

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