There was snow on the ground here in Arlington when my bleary eyes popped open this morning. I have developed a new sleep pattern- in bed fairly early, then awake in the small hours to read for a while, and then taking the second installment of a good night’s sleep (GNS). Consequently, rather than rising at the usual 0445 to start reading email and constructing the Daily, I stumble out to the living room with the day already well underway and watch a morning happy-talk show to catch up on events.
I resolve in the New Year to do something about the sleeping thing. Of course, I say that about a lot of things.
So, in the memory hole of morning, I saw a fascinating series of articles by a critic named John Nolte, counting down the “Top 165 Hollywood Movies” in ten or so installments. He is a witty and literate observer and it is a fun read. It is also a cultural adventure, since some are seventy or more years old, and many could not be made today without triggering something. Oh, I should include the mandatory alert. John writes for Brietbart, but I don’t hold that against him, and there is nothing political about the reviews that I could tell. I don’t know why he settled on the magic number of ‘165′- a similar list compiled by the Hollywood Reporter stopped at one-hundred, and that would be plenty.
I am suffering from the same information overload that everyone else is. A pal wrote to say that the “Triplets of Belleville” was on the Sundance channel and I ought to tune in. I tried to find the network with the remote, and finally gave up in defeat. I checked later- there are over 700 channels in the fiber optic network (FIOS) to which I subscribe, and watch, at most, perhaps three of them. Being a news junkie, as you might imagine, I listen carefully to sift through the torrent of breathless reporting through the day.
No rational person (or nation) should be subjected to that, and in semi-retirement, I find junk fiction and history to be a nice balance. In order to avoid Derangement Syndrome (of either end of the political spectrum), I alternate with Netflix. Problem there is that is such a bounty of original content that I get lost again.
I don’t like going to the walk-in theater any more to see first-run films, vowing to “watch them when they go to cable.” I usually forget. In the about-to-lamented 2017 I think I saw two- the documentary Wonder Woman, and Dunkirk. The former was fun fluff, and the latter a grand film about people in desperate straits with both heroism and cowardice on full display.
Dunkirk was composed with some excellent Computer Generated Imagery (CGI), but considering how cheap digits are these days, I thought the scope of the operation to harness everything that could float and have civilians sail across the Channel to rescue 35,000 Tommies from the clutches of the advancing Nazis. There was no sense of just how vast that rag-tag Armada really was.
But it was the aviation sequences that riveted me to my chair. Having seen it, I guessed there were three real Spitfires, two real Me-109s, and an actual Heinkel-111 bomber in the movie.
I had no idea there was still a flying Heinkel in the world, and looked up the blogs to find out what was what. There were three flying Spits, painted up in early war paint schemes, a single Hispano Aviacion HA-112 Buchon (A Spanish-built Me-109 that flew from 1951 to the 1960s) and a 1/8 scale drone Heinkel.
CGI magic made it seem like there were more of them, but I was a little disappointed that the swarms of aircraft were not there. Less than three years later, the Mighty Eight Air Force was dispatching raids of hundreds- eventual a thousand- bombers from East Anglia toward the Reich. That Director Christopher Nolan made four warbirds into an exciting air battle is impressive, even if I had some moments of disbelief.
Sure, I could quibble. Spits were beautiful but short-legged rascals and the aircraft and their fuel state seemed to be far more than the 2 ½ hours of flight of which they were capable. And nothing glides and turns the way the last of the three in the fight did when it finally ran out of fuel. But what the heck, it was fun to watch.
There was also very little context for the home front effort involved in the whole Miracle operation. Mostly it was soldiers and pilots winding up in the chilly waters of the May, 1940 English Channel. I had to put on a blanket while I watched to stay warm and dry. If I was going to do a movie review, I would give it two thumbs up regardless.
There is apparently a resurgence of interest in the period. I have seen the trailers for The Darkest Hour, in which Director Joe Wright takes us on a trip to the early days of the war, the ones on which on the fate of Western Europe hung in the balance. Gary Oldman turns in a Oscar-worthy performance as the pugnacious Winston Churchill, who must decide whether to negotiate with Hitler, or fight on against incredible odds. One thing first- in order to fight, it would be useful for him to get his army back from the beaches of Dunkirk.
I am a huge Churchill fan, and have paid my respects to his grave at Westminster Abby. The Christmas after his death in 1965, and the amazing funeral procession that seemed to mark the end of Empire, my Dad Raven asked what I wanted for the holiday. He was a great artist, and I told him a portrait of Winston would meet all my requirements.
He did one in gray and white charcoal featuring that famous grimace and the determination for which he was famous. It still hangs proudly on my wall, 52 Christmases later.
I would consider actually going to the movies again to see this account of some really dark hours, but like I said, there is snow out there and no right-thinking denizen of Northern Virginia goes out in the white stuff.
I don’t know why there is a flurry of interest in the events of 1940. Dunkirk was an amazing and inspiring event. Winston was indomitable in the face of disaster and the advance of the forces of evil. Maybe there is something that resonates about those times and these. In an exchange with some knowledgeable colleague, there was a general consensus that 2018 could wind up having a lot in common with the year it all came apart for Europe in 1939.
We will see. We do have extent threats in multiple directions, and irrational people armed with nuclear weapons and concealed carry. We will see all that that whether we choose to leave the house or not.
I will be sure to see the film, though, just as soon as it migrates to cable. We shall never surrender.
Copyright 2017 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com