While thinking of "The Great Escape" I allowed my mind to wander back to this little gem of a movie from my childhood. I had read and re-read the autobiographical novel from 1949 which inspired it, and when it came to the only cinema (we never used that word then , actually) in town that showed "foreign" films, I was first in line to buy my ticket.
As someone brought up on wartime newsreels and propaganda films during WWII, I had an avid interest in exploring the realities of that conflict as reflected in the memoirs and stories of men who were there in person. That extended later to a keen willingness over the years to buy any book on the subject, and eventually to read the equally compelling novels of Hans Helmut Kirst and Erich Maria Remarque, which provided an even deeper sensibility. The movie versions, however, were unlike this one in that they rarely delivered the goods.
The medium of black-and-white film has never been served so well as it was in those years. I have never seen any technicolor version of war that seems as authentic as do the deep chiaroscuros of films like "The Wooden Horse." If it is true that we are destined always to be captive to the images of our childhood, then I confess it freely.
And there will never be another the likes of Leo Genn as the emblematic British war hero on film. Not even Sir Alec.
