Saturday Night Cinema: Tunes of Glory

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Kilts and bagpipes are part of the reason I chose tonight's superb film feature for Saturday Nght Cinema, Tunes of Glory. Alec Guinness and John Mills, both outstanding actors, are brilliant in powerful roles in this  sublimely crafted film by Ronald Neame that pits one Scottish army colonel against another.

NY Times, usually acerbic and jaded in its film reviews, was positively reverential:

It is also a film in which tradition itself is magnificently observed in acting that does full justice to the highest standards of an ancient British craft and merits all the honors it has already received. Not only do Alec Guinness and John Mills superlatively adorn the two top roles in this drama of professional military men, but also every actor, down to the walk-ons, acquits himself handsomely.

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As in most first-rate dramas, whether of screen or stage, the theme of this one is not flung at you with a sign saying, "Here it is!" It is slowly and guardedly constructed after the foundation has been laid and even the vague facade of another structure appears to be taking shape. Then the sham facade is suddenly tumbled and the full structure of the solid theme is there to be viewed and contemplated, an achievement as well as a surprise.

So, when we have a smart new colonel arriving to take command of a crack battalion of a famous Scottish regiment and to supersede the present acting colonel, who is an amiable, up-from-the-ranks professional man, it appears that we are to be confronted with a conflict between two types, one the snobbish and frosty authoritarian and the other a good old solid pro.

Also, with Mr. Mills performing the "new boy" with a dandy, waspish air and Mr. Guinness making the tough old veteran a bluff and canny Scot, there seems to be no alternative for the disposal of our sympathies. The conspicuously egalitarian soldier is to be favored over the snob every time.

Other developments and aspects continue to twist our sympathies. The lesser officers of the battalion dispose themselves as you guess they would. The evident pipsqueaks and stinkers seem to gravitate to the "new boy," who cracks down with rigid training schedules and (horror of horrors!) does not drink booze. The stout fellows, true Scots and heroes, go along with the "old boy," who loves the bagpipes; likes to holler when he is happy and to do the old Scottish reels.

All the tides run in his direction. Even the casually planted facts that the new colonel is a son and grandson of former commanders of this glorious regiment and was himself kept from battle service only by being made a prisoner in World War II, seem paltry and negative details in the new colonel's pedigree. The "old boy" withers him adroitly with his comment, "From Oxford? Fancy that."

Then a terribly embarrassing thing happens: the "old boy" bops a young corporal in a pub when he catches the corporal with his daughter. This is a court-martial offense, a shameful violation of tradition as well as military law. And it looks as if the new colonel is going to have him up for it, until he, by a canny line of reasoning, dissuades the colonel in order to save his skin.

Now the theme emerges. Now the true structure appears. This is a drama about tradition and the kind of respect for it held by these two men. Suddenly the elements are assembled, the elements so skillfully contrived in the brilliant direction and color camera work of Ronald Neame—the characteristics of the peacetime soldiers in their old citadel on the high hill, the mellowness and casual spirit of the elegant officers' mess, the subtly planted notion that professional soldiers are not just fellows to please themselves but the guardians of a stern tradition and a selfless responsibility.

What happens to make the "old boy" eventually comprehend this, and how he behaves thereafter, are surprises we dare not dissipate, for they are shocking and moving, among the best things in the film written by James Kennaway.

As we say, the acting is brilliant. Mr. Mills is remarkably intense and tremendously revealing of an earnest, tormented man. Mr. Guinness, carrot-topped and commanding a delicious Scottish vocabulary and brogue, makes his characterization of the "old boy" a beautifully rich and humored thing and a fascinating contrast to his colonel in The Bridge on the River Kwai.

Dennis Price as a cool, laconic major, Gordon Jackson as a stalwart adjutant, John Fraser, as a young bagpiper corporal, and Duncan MacRae as a canny pipe major stand out among many fine performers, while pretty Susannah York does well as Mr. Guinness's daughter and Kay Walsh is droll as his lady friend.

Glittering, snow-frosted settings and handsome kilts and uniforms, all in the very best of color, complete the visual score for a fine film. In a way, perhaps largely because of the acting, it reminds one of In Which We Serve.

TUNES OF GLORY (MOVIE)

Directed by Ronald Neame; written by James Kennaway, based on his novel; cinematographer, Arthur Ibbetson; edited by Anne V. Coates; music by Malcolm Arnold; produced by Albert Fennell and Colin Lesslie; released by Lopert Films. Running time: 106 minutes.

With: Alec Guinness (Lieutenant Colonel Jock Sinclair), John Mills (Lieutenant Colonel Basil Barrow), Kay Walsh (Mary), Susannah York (Morag), Dennis Price (Major Charlie Scott), John Fraser (Colonel Piper Fraser), and Alan Cuthbertson (Captain Eric Simpson).

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Alice111
Alice111
12 years ago

This Scotswoman is very happy with your choice!
Thank you!

right then
right then
12 years ago

sooo… the ‘new boy’ comes in and imposes a fundamental transformation, eh? then shows ‘imself to be a petulent, snivelin’ litl apologizer, eh? a litl civility trainin for everybody.. guess they didn’t have pregnancy bellies for the lads back then, eh?

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Thanks for sharing!