Rating:
by Derek Smith 2/14/05
Jean Renoir's
underappreciated 1943
masterpiece, This Land is Mine, surely deserves to be mentioned
alongside his unquestionably brilliant Rules of the Game in
terms of its
effectiveness in combining humanism and social critique. Set
"somewhere in Europe" during World War II,
this is a propaganda film that transcends the limitations inherent in
what are
characteristically very single-minded films. The Nazi occupation
created various mindsets in the conquered countries and Renoir has them
represented here by a colorful group of characters - the honorable yet
cowardly Albert, the strong, subversive Louise, the dignified Prof.
Sorel, the suave, duplicitous Paul, and the sleazy, self-serving
George Lambert. With these characters, Renoir crafts numerous
small stories all working towards the greater goal of showing the free
world what it's truly like to be conquered and that the citizens of
occupied countries were just as responsible as the
Nazi's themselves for the rise of the Third Reich. Unlike most
propaganda films, the Nazi's are not shown as the only villains and
despite Major von Keller's evil nature, he is presented as
multi-dimensional individual capable of some level of compassion and
understanding although his actions are always made in
self-interest.
Charles Laughton's memorable turn as Albert Lory, one of
the finest performances of the 1940s, takes the film to the next
level. There is no weak link amongst the smaller stories, but
Laughton's seamless transformation from the bumbling coward to
dignified patriot comes across with such natural grace and finesse that
one cannot help but cheer him on like a friend. His character arc
is representative of what makes This
Land is Mine an understated, yet magnificent film - broad
subject matter dealt with intelligently and gracefully, avoiding
generalities and archetypes while always remaining purposeful and
direct. Renoir's understated
style and the well-rounded group of characters create a
portrait of underground revolution, secret dealings, and cowardice and
bravery in the face of a subtly evil enemy. It resists the urge to
simplify the conflict to a pure good v. evil, always dealing with the
events on a human level rather than speaking in platitudes. It moves
along like a well-oiled machine until the devestating final act ties
all of the smaller stories together, making it's point without being
overbearing or obvious.
Cinematic
Reflections