From Here to Eternity

From Here to Eternity (Fred Zinnemann, 1953) One shouldn't study war, but my family has a personal connection with Pearl Harbor. My Dad was there and survived it...barely. And, as a result, never wanted to go to Hawaii again. My mother told me that when he returned from the war—he was in it for the duration—for the first year, he would wake up every night screaming.

That says more to me about the events of Pearl Harbor than any movie, documentary, or chronicling...and there have been many, many of them, starting with Remember Pearl Harbor (in 1942), John Ford and Gregg Toland's documentary—December 7th—from 1943 and Howard Hawks' Air Force (also 1943), which were rushed into production soon after the event, when most of what was known about the incident was heavily censored by the government—relatives got post-cards from attack survivors that allowed them to check boxes about their condition but that was it. And that was all.

There have been quite a few movies since and it seems most of the films coming out of the 40's paid lip-service to Pearl, producer Darryl Zanuck made a by-the-book film about it in 1970, utilizing both American and Japanese directors (at one point Akira Kurosawa was attached) and Michael Bay saw good explosion material when he saw it, so he made his in 2001, which I resented a bit as he paid more attention to the bombs than he did the people.

But, the one that most people (of a certain age) remember is From Here to Eternity because of its rather mature story, its all-star cast at the top of their respective games, and as it's settled into its own folklore—George Reeves' part in it, "that" kiss in the surf (Criminy, it's the scene on the cover of all the video releases), the "Sinatra story"—a timelessness that, even though it couldn't go as far as the book in its themes, keeps it in its status as a classic even today as the people who have claimed to watch it dwindle. It's still fresh, it's still surprising, despite the restrictions put on it "in the day."

The basic idea behind it is a variation of the Casablanca line: "The problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world." Pearl Harbor in the days before the attack is a little too concerned about matters other than defense that—along with the strategic issues explored in Tora! Tora! Tora!—sets it up to be a very complacent sitting duck for any well-planned and coordinated attack...for those willing to take advantage of it. If, as the apocrypha says, that Admiral Yamamoto compared America to a sleeping giant, most of the sleeping around, according to From Here to Eternity, was going on at Pearl.

What the novel—and the movie (at least as much as the Armed Forces allowed it)—implied was that there was a lethargy where the company commander, Captain Holmes (Philip Ober) is more concerned about a boxing competition than the defense of the base, so much so that he allows the systemic abuse of Robert E. Lee Prewitt (Montgomery Clift) for his refusal to participate in that competition. Prewitt is enough of an obstinate outlier that he takes the abuse—the beatings, the extra duty, the demeaning—rather than give in. It's not that Prewett is a bad soldier, he's just different. He plays trumpet, but not for the service. He's more a jazz man, playing outside the lines—disciplined, sure, and will do a by-the-book rendition of taps for his pal, Maggio (Frank Sinatra) because it's right—but Prewitt is not a lock-step marcher. He will take the abuse for his principles, but will not tolerate it being applied to others.

The situation is noted by Sgt. Milton Warden (Burt Lancaster), who cannot go against his company commander, but can encourage Prewett, even defend him in specific circumstances. That this view is complicated by Warden's affair with his commander's wife (Deborah Kerr) only makes him more conflicted, maybe slightly hesitant, to not buck the system, even in the face of seeing things he knows is wrong. Warden chooses his battles. And when one comes to him on December 7th, it is he who leads the defensive efforts.

If you haven't seen it, it's another one to put on the Bucket of Popcorn List. It's intelligent melodrama—although it is melodrama (most movies are, kids)—that dares to not end on a happy or even hopeful note, but ends with shattered men and shattered lives—with a war going on in the background. It also puts a lit to the trope that "All's Fair in Love and War."

No. Nothing's fair. In either. And the only victory is to survive it.

Like my Dad did.