It’s probably contrarian enough to defend a movie like 1941 as a good film, but it may be futile to try to convince people it’s actually a great one. Yet now and again I return to this notorious disaster of bloated 70s cinema and find it strangely subversive, and darkly satirical in ways it usually isn’t given credit for. As directed by Steven Spielberg, and written by the team of Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale, 1941 pulls the line of farce as long as it will go. And by the end it turns into pure madness and anarchy, that could only be accomplished by the most ambitious and visionary of filmmakers.
1941 begins only a few days after the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbour. America has entered the war, and the home front is in a state of paranoia of another attack on the horizon. Indeed, the suspicions are correct, as a Japanese submarine is in fact headed to Hollywood, determined to strike another blow for their country, and strike fear into the hearts of America. Commanded by Akiro Mitamura (Toshiro Mifune), and accompanied by a Nazi Captain (Christopher Lee), the sub, which is without a compass tries to navigate through the foreign waters with the assistance of some rather inept soldiers. However, their American counterparts aren’t that bright either.
“1941 pulls the line of farce as long as it will go.”
The film follows through different story threads, such as Wally (Bobby Di Cicco), a young hoofer who can’t wait to dance the night’s jitterbug contest with his best gal Betty (Diana Kay). But Wally isn’t a soldier, and Betty has been instructed she can only dance with service men. There’s also a young army captain (Tim Matheson), who has his eye on a ravishing secretary (Nancy Allen) who only gets turned on when she’s flying a plane. Then there’s Betty’s father (Ned Beatty), a gun nut who has just been given a giant anti-aircraft battery in his front yard. And perhaps most memorably, there is “Wild” Bill Kelso (John Belushi), a renegade pilot who is obsessed with shooting down Japanese planes.
But the storylines don’t end there. There is also a motor pool company, lead by Dan Aykroyd, who can’t stand seeing Americans fighting Americans. A Christmas tree salesman, named Hollis B. Wood (Slim Pickens), who’s similar name to Hollywood gets him kidnapped by the Japanese. And then there is General Stillwell (Robert Stack), the most sane of the bunch, who just wants to have a relaxing time watching his favourite film Dumbo.
All of these storylines eventually collide in what feels like a collage of madcap lunacy, which never lets up. Bullets are blazing, planes go crashing, streets are littered in fights, and there are explosions, explosions, and more explosions!!!! 1941 soon feels like too much, yet despite this amount of “muchness”, it seems to work in spite of itself.
“The perverse charm of 1941 is that it’s the type of movie which throws in everything.”
The perverse charm of 1941 is that it’s the type of movie which throws in everything. Along with the kitchen sink. And the sheer audacity, and lunacy of doing that creates a style of its own. It creates a type of anarchy that very few films have dared approach since. It goes for broke and has the cinematic cojones to pull it off. Or at least thinks it can. It’s loud, abrasive, and in your face. If you are not laughing, you should at least stand in awe of everything this film gets away with.
But amongst all this destruction, comes a stinging critique of America at a time of crisis. This is a subversive subtext in what happens when America, the land of the free, and home of the brave, is attacked. And once their peaceful existence becomes threatened, the people have a tough time controlling their violent urges. Anarchy comes when a sense of control is lost, and the people in this film are acting out, in broad steps, what happens when it is gone. There is no order anymore, and nothing makes sense. The status quo has been broken, and Spielberg and company make the argument that all that’s left is sex and violence.
“Cinematographer William A. Fraker gives the film a hazy glaze, showing an evocative, and authentic look.”
It might be hard to believe this is a film directed by Steven Spielberg. After all, he’s mostly known for well constructed Hollywood stories usually with a moral. But I defy anyone to think he was trying to show any morality in this film. If anything, he’s showing just how mad America can get. Like most Spielberg films, this one doesn’t get enough credit for being as dark and subversive beneath the surface. We’ve taken for granted that by the end of the film, it’s in fact the Japanese who come out the victors as soon as all hell breaks loose. The film ends with all the major characters in charred, ruined remains of a city. Which was too busy acting hysterical, that they let the enemy get to them. This makes the final line delivered by General Stillwell “It’s gonna be a long war”, a bit stinging.
Yet, if it can’t be agreed upon that there is a subversive message to be found, even detractors of the film must agree that 1941 is a mastery class in production design. Cinematographer William A. Fraker gives the film a hazy glaze, showing an evocative, and authentic look, of a film which could be made in the 40s. The sets, and miniatures make it all look extravagant, and Spielberg adds his own usual touches with wonderful blocking and camera work. The big set piece is the jitterbug scene, which is full of amazing choreography and movement, that’s it’s hard to believe that Spielberg has only chosen now with his West Side Story remake to do an all out musical.
“1941 showed a Spielberg who could be wild, uninhibited, and throw caution to the wind.”
But it’s interesting to see 1941 now in the context to the end of the 70s. Back then it could go with the narrative of the massive, overly produced, bloated projects which marked the end of auteur driven filmmaking. Along with Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate, and Scorsese’s New York, New York, this was a film made by someone who found great success early on and perhaps went too far down the self-indulgent rabbit hole. I find films like these very fascinating to dissect. What we see on screen is destruction before our eyes, but perhaps it was needed in order to move forward.
With the critical and box office failure of 1941, Spielberg became a more disciplined and refined director. His next film would be Raiders of the Lost Ark, followed by E.T. The Extraterrestrial. After that he would be untouchable as far as Hollywood elite would go. He was one of the few Hollywood filmmakers to make it out alive after the 70s and even flourish more making himself an empire. Yet 1941 showed a Spielberg who could be wild, uninhibited, and throw caution to the wind.
I don’t believe 1941 is perfect, but I do believe it is brilliant, and I know that makes me in the minority. I probably won’t be able to convert any non-believers, but there are a precious few of us. When I think of comedies today, I find myself comparing them to the sheer audacity and cinematic grandeur of 1941, and I don’t feel very many have reached that peak. I’d like to think, if anything, it says something to the legacy of the film, that it still feels like a movie. Maybe one that goes off the rails, but it dares us not to look away, as it piles on with more of everything.
