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Response to All Quiet on the Western Front, anticipation of Lord of the Flies. "A loathsome lie," cries the shattered serviceman of patriotism, "nothing finer," pontificates the teacher in a classroom of preadolescents. War is dominance of territory and the young are already versed in it, a lumberyard lot is the casus belli between peewee Budapest militias, the Boys of Paul Street versus the Red Shirts. Miniature commanders (Jimmy Butler, Frankie Darro) on opposite sides, a private among officers (George Breakston). Trenches and marbles, "an impossible situation," one too many dunkings for the runt who longs for a military cap. "Now, about the rules of combat..." Molnár's allegory blisteringly served by Frank Borzage, a vision of children and violence throbbing with pacifistic fervor. A wispy whistle is the boy's bugle, his tenacity wins the admiration of older kids just as it drains the life from his tremulous body, jingoism is the delirium that pushes him out of sickbed and toward death. "A dangerous mission" for toy soldiers, infiltrating the botanical gardens to discover a turncoat (Jackie Searl) and an amphibian glare in cold water. The climactic clash has exploding sand bags and sheds doubling as traps, no more grotesque than a real battlefield. The old watchman (Christian Rub) observes wryly, a medal pinned to where his limb should be: "It ain't an empty lot. It's Belgium, Alsace-Lorraine, Manchuria. It's any war. Every war. Yesterday, today and tomorrow. It's always the same." A Pietà clinches the sense of waste, a steam shovel's mechanical claw intrudes upon the mournful flag. Losey (The Boy with Green Hair) and Clayton (Our Mother's House) take up the note. With Donald Haines, Lois Wilson, Samuel S. Hinds, Ralph Morgan, and Egon Brecher. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |