In the days before turning 20, I realised how unprepared I was to move forward. Somehow, I didn’t feel like an adult yet – in fact, I felt more like a child than ever. As a result of my Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy, memories were surfacing like they never had before, with my happiest summers at my grandparent’s house pitted against my saddest days at primary school. I couldn’t run away from the past. It was only when my dad recommended A Matter of Life and Death that finally the time came to be brave. It was his wise nod that told me it was time to let go, and that I should trust this film to help me.
Powell and Pressburger’s 1946 film isn’t likely to come to mind when the ‘coming of age’ genre is mentioned – films such as Stand By Me, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape and Lady Bird are more commonly referred to. Stories like these are the ones many people grew up on, learned to live by and that ultimately remind audiences of our own narratives. Their youthful characters navigate monumental life changes; devastated by the loss of innocence, they must achieve emotional growth.
But if I have learned anything as I’ve gotten older, it’s that life will continue to test you beyond adolescence. Obstacles will arise, testing your very character and capacity – films like A Matter Of Life and Death serve to remind us that coming-of-age doesn’t end when you turn 18. When I had no guide through these moments, the film stood by as my perfect mentor.
Originally a propaganda commission, A Matter of Life and Death was aimed at restoring Anglo-American relations following the Second World War. However, Powell and Pressburger knew the film’s message had to run deeper than this, aware that their world was devastated by loss and upheaval. People needed help transitioning into post-war life and reminding of the power of love. A Matter of Life and Death was created to teach the most important lesson of all: we must continue to cherish life, even in the face of hardship.
A Matter of Life and Death’s protagonist Peter (David Niven) apparently has his fate sealed by the opening scenes. Piloting a plummeting Lancaster, he is born onto the screen in conflict. The only lifeline Peter has arrives in the form of an American radio operator, June (Kim Hunter). The two share a passionate exchange, with Peter declaring “I love you, June. You’re life and I’m leaving you.” This is where Peter’s coming-of-age moment begins, as he must fight to return to the love of his life.
The scenes inside the fiery Lancaster signal the beginning of Peter’s transformation. Surrounded by corroded metal and assaulted by wind, he sees reminders of the two possible outcomes before him: beside him, his dead electrician and on the radio, a woman he feels an instant connection with. He is trapped with the thing humans fear most: the unknown. It is here that Peter sustains the wounds he will carry with him throughout the film, both physical (a brain injury) and spiritual (the internal fight to stay alive.)
When Peter survives the crash and finds himself alive on a beach, his character continues to be tested. He finds himself reunited with June, but as they are picnicking aside blushing pink roses, Conductor 71 (Marcus Goring) arrives, charged with accompanying Peter to the Other World. He informs Peter that there has been a mistake and he must go with him to the afterlife, but Peter insists on staying, as he has fallen in love.
With Conductor 71’s introduction comes the time when Peter has to confront his difficulties head-on. With a cutting French accent and oceanic eyes, the Conductor’s hypnotic presence draws Peter away from his inner strength of resilience. With the ability to halt time, Conductor 71 ensnares Peter into a game of mental chess, and with each step across the board, Peter becomes more desperate than ever, asking a variety of panicked questions that reflect the dizzying confusion that comes with monumental life changes.
As Peter is then struck by headaches, June consults Doctor Frank Reeves who determines that he must keep an eye on him, in light of further hallucinations. However, the murky realms of reality and delusion continue to intertwine as Peter is visited again by Conductor 71, who informs him he has three days to prepare his appeal before standing trial to determine if he can continue to live with June or must accept his fate. Burning with fever, Peter prepares to fight his case. Meanwhile, believing Peter to have a head injury caused by a previous concussion, Reeves prepares his surgery.
“A weak mind isn’t strong enough to hurt itself,” Reeves declares, as he reflects on Peter’s intelligent, overactive mind and the delicacy of his situation. Reeves is right, especially as Peter approaches his final hurdle – the trial is representative of our toughest demon: our inner selves. Taking place in the Other World, Peter is forced to bare his soul despite his all-encompassing anxieties. His death, his health, the surgery, June – all of these problems must be acknowledged but ignored for the sake of pushing on.
In the lifelessness of the Other World Peter’s coming-of-age moment is realised. Gazing out at its seas of black and white, there is one speck of colour remaining for him – June’s lipstick. The trial reinforces the Earth’s conformity to universal law, routine and logic but Peter’s human love for June transcends these unsentimental concepts. As the couple on the escalator between worlds, Peter grins – his love is so visible that it has overcome cosmic order. In the face of death, he has found what it means to live, and it has saved him.
A Matter of Life and Death isn’t your typical coming-of-age movie. Its characters aren’t youthful and it was a deliberate piece of wartime propaganda. But it doesn’t have to be conventional because it reflects the fact that we will never stop “coming of age.” For me, my coming-of-age story begins and ends with change in the face of anxiety. But what A Matter of Life and Death taught me is simple: endurance must continue long after we turn 18, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. After all, there are plenty of things worth living for.
The post Why A Matter of Life and Death is my favourite coming-of-age film appeared first on Little White Lies.
0 Comments