Till the End of Time

The year after World War II ended brought the first dramas to look at the plight of returning veterans trying to readjust to civilian norms. The Best Years of Our Lives was the big hit that year, but there were others, too. The title song in Till The End of Time, which was adapted from a Chopin polonaise, snakes through the movie wearing many skins, from saraband to Swing, constituting one of the more effective leitmotifs of 40s-movie scores. The story centers on Guy Madison, returning from the Pacific to his Los Angeles family. His parents expect the boy who left, not the man (physically, at least) who came back; they recoil when he wants to share his experiences in battle. So he starts to rebel against their sheltered and complacent life but has little idea of what to do with his own.

His love life is riven as well. One the one side there's the brash bobby-soxer next door, symbolizing what he used to be; on the other is weary war-widow Dorothy McGuire (among her most affecting roles), another survivor of the horrors of combat.

It's tempting to assume that Madison landed this meaty role (he's constantly on screen) solely because of his looks -- extraordinary, even by Hollywood standards. But he delivers a natural, if a bit bashful, performance. Only when buddy Robert Mitchum resurfaces halfway through the movie does he suffer by comparison. As a black sheep with a steel plate in his skull, Mitchum strikes the sparks that would ignite his long stardom; Madison, while pleasant and competent, comes up with nothing new and starts to grow monotonous (his career took him to TV westerns and European cheapies).

Director Edward Dmytryk (Murder, My Sweet; Back to Bataan) tones down for this leisurely character study, which remains absorbing and at times close to moving. He missteps once, very near the end, when a blast at bigotry comes flying out of left field, and he probably had to settle for the upbeat ending the studio wanted. But it was left to film noir, which dealt with similar issues obliquely (Blue Dahlia, Act of Violence, Dmytryk's own Crossfire) that probed them more profoundly.

..If only to see beautiful and appealing Guy Madison in one of his earlier roles before lost to western films and TV ("Wild Bill Hickok") in the 1950s. Madison is the focal point here, portraying a returning serviceman from World War II and his subsequent adjustment to civilian life with sincerity and easy-going charm. Brad Pitt has a bit of his extremely handsome blonde, athletic looks, but not ingratiating acting prowess. (Madison is on the cover of "Hearthrob", a book about male cinema stars). Top-billed Dorothy McGuire is really support, somewhat of a matronly mis-matched love interest for the youthful Madison. A lovely score and good direction offset some dated aspects in the script. But Madison carries the day!

Dorothy McGuire's performance (as Pat Ruscomb, war widow) is exceptionally good in this film. She is so convincing that viewers need focus on the effects of World War II on the war widows as much as the effects on returning servicemen. Despite her plight, she is the character that holds the film together when all else is chaos. One can only wonder how many women were left in like situations after the war. Where "The Best Years of Our Lives" adequately portrays the problems of readjustments of soldiers to civilian life, this film gives us a look at the sinister effect on those who remained on the home front. The scars on women, families, and homes do extend "till the end of time."

No need to repeat the plot. That scene where Pat (McGuire) and Cliff (Madison) encounter the shell-shocked outpatient is genuinely disturbing. For a screenplay, that's a tough problem to treat in a single set-up. Pat's little anecdotal lesson works pretty well-- the soldier is relieved of his demons for the moment. But for how long, I wonder. And what will become of him, sitting alone, quaking, and afraid to go home. And how many others will come home like him. The script says the inner wounds will wear off eventually, but then it had to say something like that, otherwise the movie's hopeful tone would be compromised. And that would be counter to what the country needs following four years of horror.

It' a decent, earnest movie, produced by the studio's (RKO) head honcho Dore Schary, so it's a prestige production. Looks like they took a gamble on an unknown Guy Madison in the lead role. He certainly looks the part—I can just about hear the echoing squeals of bobby- soxers even 60 years later. He does bring an earnestness that's refreshing, even if his range is pretty limited as the heavier scenes show. Newcomers Mitchum and the underrated Bill Williams also register, along with the dewy-eyed Dorothy McGuire before she became a favorite movie mom. But I especially like Jean Porter's vivacious teenager. It's really her Helen who projects the buoyant spirit of the coming consumer age.

There were, of course, a number of these "adjustment" films as the country struggled with a return to normalcy. Where this movie excels is with the uncertainty of a recovering civilian world. Each main character is drifting as a result of the war. Each has been changed and must now work out how to fit back in. Then too, I like the rather ambivalent way the movie ends, avoiding easy solutions.

There's one other sequence worth noting. The barroom brawl is both over-done and clumsily staged. Nonetheless, it makes an important point. Namely, that the war has changed society as well as individuals. A post-war America will be more inclusive than the traditional America. The logic appears to be that since it took everyone to win the war, no one should be excluded from the fruits. Given the civil rights movement soon to emerge, the movie thus proves prophetic. Too bad this worthy movie effort now seems so obscure. Despite the years, it remains an affecting look at a key period in American life and merits catching up with.

(In passing—that's filmmaker Blake Edwards of Pink Panther fame as the shop foreman that Cliff tangles with, soon to become a screenwriter, and then an A-picture producer-director.)

I would make the case that Guy Madison may be the best-looking young man to ever star in a feature film, and this is his best one. There are moments where his totally unselfconscious looks are just jaw-dropping. His acting, on the other hand, can be described charitably as "natural"; but I wasn't expecting Lawrence Olivier. Guy was an early find of legendary Hollywood agent Henry Willson, who would later "discover" a tall young man whom he renamed Rock Hudson.