The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp

Roger Livesey is superb in this wonderfully colourful depiction of the life of "Clive Candy". We start with his rather undignified seizure at the steam baths by the home guard he is supposed to comman... Roger Livesey is superb in this wonderfully colourful depiction of the life of "Clive Candy". We start with his rather undignified seizure at the steam baths by the home guard he is supposed to command and by way of a continuous retrospective, discover just how this man arrived at this embarrassing predicament. First there was the South African campaign, then the Great War saw him gain some prominence and also, after quite a few scrapes, sees him befriend his opposite number, as it were, in the form of the dashing German "Theo" (a beautifully understated contribution from Anton Walbrook). Becoming firm friends, they share the same social circles and it's here that "Candy" meets his future wife - Deborah Kerr. Trials and tribulations and then WWII all affect this man as he is promoted through the ranks and faces tragedy very close to home before the realisation that, at an elderly age, perhaps he is no longer of any value! What Powell and Pressburger have encapsulated into just over 2½ hours here, is a delightfully evocative story that deals with friendship and honour, with love, despair and the human desire to feel needed and wanted - but never without losing sight of the humanity of the situations and, quite often, with some degree of dark and stoic humour. There is a lovely chemistry between Livesey and Walbrook, and Deborah Kerr positively glows as she remains the woman in his life - in various guises - throughout. The contrast between the evolving behaviours is subtly but potently drawn here: we see a society that no longer considered any "niceties" of war - symptomatic of a sea of changing attitudes with which both men struggle to adapt. Sure, there's nostalgia - but it's of a palpable and immersive nature. IT's not at all sentimental. We take sides initially - jingoism isn't far away, but certainly as it progresses and the decency of these individuals is laid bare, I found myself rather admiring the integrity on display here from two different but remarkably similar perspectives. As to that display, the aesthetic of this film is glorious. The wartime sets, the bucolic and peaceful scenes, the romance, the disaster - all delivered here with great skill by Georges Périnal's artistic touch and Allan Gray's charmingly complementary score. I can't really pick a favourite P&P film, but the three leads and the accomplished supporting cast assembled here make this one of their very best, complex and thought-provoking efforts that looks fantastic on a big screen.