Set in London during World War II, Hope and Glory is anything but your typical war film. It's an autobiographical sketch of a schoolboy who witnesses, firsthand, the aerial devastation of London. Through his innocent eyes, we see the destruction in a completely unique way. To him, the war is more than simply catastrophic: it's also creative. This movie is somewhat unique in the sense that it's a war film lacking tragic or heroic qualities. We see ordinary people not only getting by, but also getting a buzz off of the excitement.
What's most interesting about the boy's perspective is this: while he watches any number of British social norms become transformed or nullified because of the exigencies of war (the film has some hilarious scenes to that effect), the British remain remarkably British. There is no debilitating self-doubt about who or what they are. It's about a crisis in the historical sense, similar to Bruni's experience of the early Italian Renaissance, which served to reinforce and infuse with energy the cultural assumptions commonly taken for granted. As an American, one senses what it means to be English, to have those qualities refined and purified like iron in a blast furnace, which is not an easy feeling to convey.
The boy's mother (Sarah Miles), for example, with her husband away in the service, is thrust into the role of head of household. And yet, she's demonstrably uncomfortable assuming these duties. The boy's grandfather, who is warm, acerbic, formal, dignified, and comically lascivious, appears as a bundle of contradictions; but, he's a microcosm of British social contradictions, which makes him fascinating.
One hopes that the events of September the 11th can inspire in us a similar sense of what it means to be American, and maybe help us to find some hope and glory in ourselves.
