Apologia Pro 1941

1941 (1979)
Directed by Steven Spielberg, Screenplay by Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale

On December 7, 1941, the Naval Air Arm of the Imperial Japanese Fleet, in a surprise attack, struck the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor and hurtled an unsuspecting America into World War II.
American citizens were stunned, shocked and outraged at this treacherous attack. On the West Coast, paranoia gripped the entire population as panic-stricken citizens were convinced that California was the next target of the Imperial Japanese Forces.
Major General Joseph W. Stillwell, Commander of the Army Third Corps, was given the responsibility of defending Southern California. Army and Marine units were mobilized. Anti-aircraft defense batteries were manned and made ready. Civilian Defense operations sprang into action.
For the first time since the Civil War, American citizens prepared to defend their homeland against an enemy whose first assault was expected anywhere, at any time, and in any force…

Call me Cicero. My defendant in this case is Steven Spielberg’s 1941, a film that has been unfairly maligned and viciously slandered by humorless ignorant drones whose malicious lack of reason has infected generations of people into believing that 1941 is a bad film. In fact, it is a brilliant film on several counts, but more than that, it is a dangerous film—dangerous, I say, because it might make people think and apparently in this republic we are afraid of letting people think, especially while they’re laughing.
You might think my defense of 1941 is extreme, but the lies and uninformed myths surrounding it warrant such a defense.

My defense rests on three points: First, this is possibly the best film about wartime paranoia and hysteria ever and second, it is a compendium of classic comedy gags and finally, this film marks a firm date after which apparently the last World War II veterans with a sense of humor passed away.

Let’s briefly deal with the second point as it is the least important, but the most commonplace myth surrounding this film. The film has been called un-funny. Why? The common reason given is that the gags never stop. The uncut version of the film clocks in at 2 hours and 26 minutes. And Spielberg directed the film as if someone said to him that he’d never be allowed to direct another comedy so he’d better get in every gag he’s ever wanted to put in a film. The thing is, all the gags are funny—they’re a damn sight funnier than most comedies have been since, partly because a lot of the sight gags and physical humor are classic bits that would have been familiar to Hal Roach and Mack Sennett. Despising that kind of comedy is like despising Charlie Chaplin or the history of cinema and cinematic comedy. If you don’t like a good old-fashioned gag, then there’s something seriously wrong with you. The only thing better than one gag is seven gags and if you don’t believe that then you probably also don’t believe that a pie in the face can be funny. Also, it’s not like 1941 isn’t laced with plenty of intellectual and character based humor. Again, the film clocks in at over 2 hours and it manages to follow a half-dozen subplots. Does that make your brain ache? The first argument against 1941 was that it was too simplistic. Then the argument was that it was too complex? Well, which is it? And then came the argument that much of the intellectual satire went over the heads of its intended Animal House fan audience. Thirty years of that kind of argument has led us to a wasteland of Pauly Shore, Carrot Top and Will Ferrell’s ass. I can’t wait for someone to start arguing that the humor of Scary Movie 17 went over the head of its audience.
I will return to the question of comedy later, but first I have to go back to the satire.

1941 is simply put the best film ever about wartime paranoia. I would stand this film up against any such film, including such classics as Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Its depiction of a paranoid home front looking for invaders under every pile of leaves would be funny if it wasn’t also so familiar. Since 2001 this film has become even more salient, because the kind of reckless fear exhibited in this film set in the month after Pearl Harbor has once again become part of our daily lives. Only now, it’s like we’re in a permanent state of December 8th 1941 because the nature of the threat lends itself to such paranoia with even greater aplomb. In both cases, the threat is real. There really are people trying to get us. But in both cases the extreme reactions can (and in the case of this film actually DO) mask the real threat which is usually smaller and less apocalyptic than the threat that we imagine. In 1941 the reaction to the threat does more damage to the city of Los Angeles than the actual attack does. Whether it’s a pilot chasing phantoms from Fresno or a Colonel imagining secret facilities in Pomona the wild-eyed imaginations are put up for serious satire. Maybe this film isn’t so funny given the fact that we have only recently tried to live with the spectacle of a Secretary of State showing off pictures of trailer parks on the Tigris and imagining them to be mobile biological laboratories. I guess secret Japanese airfields in Pomona aren’t that ridiculous to people who would easily believe in similar things today. But then, that just makes my original point more clear—the satire in this film is still salient and is even more biting now than it was 30 years ago.

So, why do people insist on repeating the mythology that 1941 is a worthless film? It’s because all the World War II veterans with a sense of humor died in 1979. I know, this is a gross exaggeration, Kurt Vonnegut and Joseph Heller didn’t die until recently and I am certain there are many veterans still with us who have a sense of humor, but the great process of generational sanctification sealed by Tom Brokaw’s declaration of “The Greatest Generation” has made it all but impossible to deal with the war in any term other than holy communion and ancestor worship. It’s not really the fault of the veterans themselves so much as those who have come after them and can’t think of the old days in any realistic way. The thought that patriotic Americans in December 1941 would be more concerned with chasing tail than fighting the Axis and saving the world for democracy is anathema to the saint-worshippers. I think 1941 is a good landmark—because before this film you could do anything with World War II. Catch-22, From Here to Eternity, Slaughterhouse Five (all written by veterans, mind you) all came before the sense of humor died. Kelly’s Heroes portrayed American soldiers who decide to break behind enemy lines for a bank heist because they believe that if they’re going to die in a war they might as well have a chance at making it worth their while. That’s hardly the stuff of Band of Brothers. But then even the original Ocean’s Eleven from 1960 featured a unit from the 82nd Airborne led by Danny Ocean reuniting to knock over a casino. Try getting away with that today. Maybe the real greatest generation were all the World War II veterans with a sense of humor who made films like 1941 possible. And I have to believe there were still enough of them to allow 1941 to be made, it’s just that by the time it was released there weren’t enough of them to support it and they weren’t vocal enough to beat back the sanctimonious harpies who decided to turn this film into a “flop.” (Of course, one reason the film flopped is that the version released in the theatres was about an hour shorter than the full film, so I can see how it would have been somewhat confusing.) Still, between the funny de-boned critics and the sanctimonious prigs this film got a raw deal, both in terms of its entertainment value and in terms of its intellectual quality. And while Spielberg had to go so far as to spend much of career having to kowtow and make amends with the guardians of the holy flame and pretend that this film didn't happen, I choose to remember it as being an important part of remembering the history of a time that is fast being rolled over into holy national myth.

So, maybe now you believe that 1941 is an important film, but what really makes it fun?
The intricacy of the plot and characters, of course.
Let’s take it from the top:
1. The Jaws parody. Susan Backlinie (the skinnydipper from Jaws) is a member of the Polar Bear Club and shows up on the coast of Northern California early on the morning of December 13, 1941 to take a nude dip in the frigid waters of the Pacific. Something ominous approaches (John Williams scored this film as well as Jaws) next thing you know she’s holding on for dear life to the periscope of a Japanese submarine. This is a better parody than any parody film has ever offered (in part because it is self-parody.)
2. The submarine I-19 is the wackiest ship in the Imperial Japanese Navy. It is a decommissioned U-Boat sold to the Japanese (thus they have some problems operating it). It is commanded by Comander Akiro Mitamura (Toshiro Mifune). I’m going to say that again—the submarine captain is TOSHIRO MIFUNE. Mifune has to deal with a German naval observer, Captain Wolfgang von Kleinschmidt (Christopher Lee). I’ll say that again, too—CHRISTOPHER LEE. And although this pair spends the entire film speaking only in Japanese and German respectively they are comic gold. Mitamura is upset that he missed out on Pearl Harbor so he’s looking for something honorable to destroy. His helpful crew suggest that they strike Hollywood. Kleinschmidt objects, saying that Hollywood is inland, but the Japanese won’t listen to him because they’re determined to make their plan work. (Apparently, the Mitamura’s officers are Japanese neo-cons.)
3. Meanwhile at Malcomb’s Café the two most incompetent dishwashers in the world are destroying everything they touch. Wally Stephens (Bobby Di Cicco) is practicing dancing so he can do his movies for the girl of his dreams, Betty Douglas (Dianne Kay). His buddy Dennis DeSoto (Perry Lang) is as much of a menace as he is. Wally is from the wrong side of the tracks, as Mr. Malcomb (the incomparable Dub Taylor) reminds him. Wally is the Tramp and he’s got no chance with Lady.
4. Also at the Café we are introduced to our US Army transportation unit. They are led by Sergeant Frank Tree (Dan Aykroyd) a talkative pseudo-intellectual who memorizes equipment manuals and has a lot to say about the course of the war. His credo is that he can’t stand to see Americans fighting Americans. His crew includes Corporal Chuck ‘Stretch’ Sitarski (Treat Williams) who has an aversion to eggs and an attraction to the ladies, especially Betty Douglas (and who wouldn’t be attracted to her?), Private Foley (John Candy) a Southerner, Hinshaw (Walter Olkewicz) and Reese (Mickey Rourke). They are later joined by Private Ogden Johnson Jones (Frank McRae) making their motorpool unit the first Army unit to be integrated.
5. The USO is hosting a dance where movie producer Meyer Mishkin (Iggie Wolfington) will hand out a contract to the best dancer. The radio announcer for the dance is Joe Flaherty and the USO hostess is Penny Marshall. The only person not in this film is Kevin Bacon and seeing as how half the cast of Animal House is in this film and Kevin Bacon is in Animal House…well, you get the point. Even Patti LuPone makes an appearance. Miss Fitzroy (Penny Marshall) tells the girls that they’ll have to dance with people they wouldn’t have given a second thought to before because these boys are now all in uniform.
6. This message is reinforced at the Douglas home when Betty’s father Ward (Ned Beatty) gives her the most awkward father-daughter dating speech ever. The look on Betty's face when her father basically tells her to put out as much as possible for the sake of the country is priceless.
7. There’s a great scene in a department store where Wally is attempting to shoplift a zoot suit and Dennis notes that the girls are flocking to anybody in a uniform, thus setting up a key element later. The sheer panic in the department store when a false air raid alarm is sounded is worth a thousand essays on war paranoia.
8. Wendie Jo Sperber as Betty’s man-hungry friend Maxine is great.
9. Michael McKean and David Lander (TV’s lovable Lenny and Squiggy) play anti-aircraft gunners Willy and Joe).
10. The Douglas household is rounded out by Joan Douglas (Lorraine Gary) who doesn’t like guns in her house, which makes the fact that her house gets an anti-aircraft gun put right next to it that much funnier.
Also, there are the two young Douglas boys who build Jap traps in the yard and are the prototypes for the Red Dawn Wolverines.
11. The local Civil Defense warden Angelo Scioli (Lionel Stander) has converted his car into an A-Team style armored car and he puts Murray Hamilton and Eddie Deezen on top of the Ferris wheel of his amusement park to keep on the lookout for any invasion.
12. Slim Pickens is Hollis P. Wood, a Christmas tree farmer who is kidnapped by the Japanese so that he can point the way to Hollywood. There’s a scene where he pretends to take a dump that should have won him an Oscar.
13. Meanwhile, Robert Stack is General Stillwell and his aide Captain Loomis Birkhead (Tim Matheson) is trying desperately to get some action with the lovely Donna Stratton (Nancy Allen) but she won’t even go to second base with anyone unless she’s in an airplane. Thus, Loomis Birkhead is looking for a plane.
14. The man with a plane is Captain Wild Bill Kelso of the Army Air Corps (John Belushi). Kelso is a one man force for destruction. He is utterly sure that there are Japanese planes in California. He’s so sure that he shoots Elisha Cook’s radio and says that it lies when it says that it’s all a case of war nerves. Kelso is the ultimate catalytic character and Belushi turns in a hilarious performance.
15. Finally there’s Colonel Maddox (Warren Oates) who also has a plane and believes his base in Barstow is in danger of being overrun by Japanese paratroops from the legendary airstrips in the alfalfa fields of Pomona. Colonel Madman Maddox was apparently running American foreign policy in 2002-2003.
16. Blink and you’ll miss James Caan as a sailor in the big inter-service/zoot suit riot.
17. Be on the lookout for directors James Landis and Samuel Fuller in bit parts. (Fuller is easy to recognize as the Interceptor commander) whereas Landis can be easy to miss given the fact that he’s covered in dust.

In good comic form the many subplots get weaved into and out of each other and culminate with the destruction of a couple of blocks of downtown LA, a bunch of AA fire being shot at two (friendly) planes (both of which are shot down) and the destruction of a Ferris wheel by a submarine which also manages to torpedo a tank. The tank claims that it sank the submarine (because it was last seen submerging) and the Douglas family home is wrecked. The paranoia has been exorcised (and exercised, for that matter). Wally wins the dance contest only to discover his inner patriotism and he puts aside Mishkin’s contract in order to enlist. (Thus, character growth.) I’ll have to admit that it’s almost as exhausting to get through this as it is to make it through Saving Private Ryan, but in a way, it takes watching this film to correct the sanctimoniousness of the newer film. Private Ryan’s rescuer says “Earn this” but maybe the way to earn the life afterward is to remember the past without sepia-tinted lenses. The greatest generation wasn’t made up of saints in uniform and they weren’t always fighting a crusade. There was paranoia and absurdity and downright hilarity. Young people spent as much time wondering how they were going to get laid (and with whom) as they did wondering about how they were going to save the world. To get to the end, we started with a bunch of paranoid people expecting an invasion from every empty field and flinching at every shadow across the sky. It took us a long time to get to the point where we got our confidence back and knew what was a threat and what wasn’t. It took a long war to sort everything out from the fear that broke our peace. Maybe the greatest tribute we can give to the “greatest generation” is to give them back their character and three-dimensionality and have a laugh while we’re at it.
“It’s going to be a long war,” Stillwell declares at the end. Aren’t they all?

Bonus Materials
1. The Making of 1941
This is about 103 minutes about the origins of the film and it’s a bit dated (it’s from the Laser Disc version) and it doesn’t defend the end product enough for my taste, but it’s a good bit of background and has some nice behind the scenes footage. Interviews with Spielberg, Bob Gale, Robert Zemeckis, John Milius, John Williams and others. This film featured the first use of the Louma Crane in a film and the special effects are fantastic so the filmmaking information here is choice.

2. Deleted Scenes
A riotous scene with Joe Flaherty at the USO, followed by some terrific scenes with the Japanese shore team at the Christmas tree farm. There are some fun bits here.

3. Production Photographs
An extensive collection of shots from behind the scenes.

4. 1941 Comic Relief
A series of production shots with comic strip dialogue balloons.

5. The Marketing of 1941
Don’t skip the great art work. The caricatures and posters for this film are classics.

6. The Reviews
A collection of words by idiots who really missed the point and who prove that most professional film reviewers are a worthless waste of oxygen.

7. Production Notes
Scroll through for some trivia if you really care.

8. Cast and Filmmakers
The bios are a bit dated now. This function of special features has long since been outmoded by the advent of the internet and IMDB and Wikipedia and such things.

9. Theatrical Trailers
These are real gems, especially the teaser that was made before they had settled on Belushi’s character name. Here he’s named Wild Wayne Kelso instead of Wild Bill. Belushi is perfect in this faux-propaganda short. “Your country needs you, son. You gonna let her down? You think your best girl’ll look good in a kimono, eatin’ teriyaki off a straw place mat? How’d ya like to eat sauerkraut for the rest of your life?”