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Film Review

Without Parallel

The film "Pimpernel Smith" has been described by Leslie Howard as "a piece of honest hocum pocum." Although some critics hailed Professor Smith as portraying an ordinary cultured Englishman, one can hardly regard the comic opera Von Raum as a serious portrait of a Nazi. Nor does it seem likely that the common traits of the English character can be summed up as a silent and wide ranging efficiency and a deep sense of humour and Culture—that is real civilization—as displayed by absent-minded Professor Smith, the jabberworcky lover of Aphrodite in marble (and the nude), who is so distressed by the presence of women in the university and shows such an amazing ability to snatch distinguished men from concentration camps.

Nevertheless, there is an honest purpose behind this contrast of civilization and barbarism, and "Pimpernel Smith" leaves us with an admiration for a country which can turn out such a thoroughly workmanlike film.

The contrast between civilized ways of life and the national barbarity of Nazism as a theme is also brought out in the film "49th Parallel," which really is, as the posters shout, a film without parallel.

Professor Smith was a hero, if a silent one, as is the English way. "49th Parallel" dares to show the Nazis in a heroic role. It dares to arouse our sympathy for them. Yet while we share the perils of the hunted, we cannot forget that the hunted men are human rats and coldblooded murderers of innocent people.

The theme is announced by skilful photo montage of the opening scenes and by the words, "The 49th Parallel—a line drawn on a map—sealed by a handshake—the only undefended frontier in the world."

U-boat 37, hiding in Hudson Bay, is sunk by the R.C.A.F., and the only survivors are six men in a landing party commanded by Lieutenant Hirth. The six begin a trek to the Yankee border through a country steeped in the ways of peace and freedom. They are filled with a consciousness of their mission as the brave vanguard of Hitler's millions. Their real mission, to be a little unkind, is to provide situations in which the official stars Olivier, Walbrook, Howard and Massey can play their favourite roles and say their piece for democracy. In this sort of "Ten Little Nigger Boys" plot we meet Leslie Howard—shades of Aphrodite!—on a hunting trip with Picasso and Matisse, and dealing out apologetic violence to armed supermen.

These little cameos, however, bring out the jealousies of Party members and the individual differences of character between "good and bad" Gormans. And the scene in which the German Hutterite settlement, where Lieutenant Hirth unsuccessfully appeals to the mystical bonds of blood and race, Anton Walbrook replies, is some of the best democratic propaganda that I have seen.