The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

As we're learning anew in the United States, the awful toll war takes on human beings isn't always measured in lost lives and lost limbs. Much of the damage is invisible, until it rears its ugly head. It's a difficult reality, most of all for those who are living through it as veterans or as loved ones. And it's those difficulties that make families stronger—or tear them apart. As dramatized by the great Hollywood director William Wyler, that's the theme of one of the finest movies to come out of the Dream Factory, Wyler's 1946 powerhouse drama, The Best Years of Our Lives.


The story revolves around three returning vets, coming home to the same small town. One, Homer (real-life vet Harold Russell), has obvious injuries—two prosthetic arms—to go with the silent damage he shares with an Army Air Force pilot, Fred (Dana Andrews) and an officer, Al (Frederic March). On their flight home, we learn that Fred got married just before he left for Europe and can't wait to finally spend time with his new bride, while Al has a family and a job at the bank awaiting his arrival. Homer is more tight-lipped about what he's returning to, but we learn that there is a girl in the picture.

The reunion scenes are all poignant. Al attempts to ease back in to being dad again, and everything is marvelously underplayed until the emotion seizes him and he grabs his wife Milly (Myrna Loy) in one of the more memorable embraces I've seen on screen. The swirl of emotions surrounding Fred includes a distinct unease; his wife (Virginia Mayo) is more of a stranger to him now than when he left. She wants to party; Fred wants to settle down and make a home. Meanwhile, Homer shows his family how to help him manage with his permanent injuries, fitfully avoiding his girl next door Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell) in fear of her reaction to his predicament.

Homer's injuries are plain to the eye, but the physically unmarked Fred and Al have deep wounds all their own. The horrors of combat have driven Al to alcoholism, while Fred is wracked with violent dreams from what was then called combat fatigue, and is now known as post-traumatic stress syndrome. The adjustments each man makes to his new civilian life are not easy, either. Al finds that the hard decisions a banker must make about financing the dreams of very fallible men don't sit so easily with a man of conscience; Fred returns to the soda fountain where he worked, but loses his temper over comments a customer makes, and winds up jobless, with a marriage on the rocks. Homer struggles to hold a glass, battling shame over his newfound dependence upon others and the shattered dreams the war has laid claim to.

And yet ... well, I won't spill the beans. There are too many moments of raw emotional power in this movie to spill the beans; suffice it to say that this is one movie you simply must see. It's special. It was critically hailed upon its release, and went on to win seven Oscards, including a Best Actor award for March (richly deserved), Best Director for Wyler (ditto), Best Script for writer Robert Sherwood (again, ditto), and Best Supporting Actor for Harold Russell, who also received a special Oscar for the courage he displayed in bringing the problems of veterans to the screen.

Simply put, The Best Years of Our Lives is Hollywood at its very best, a drama of real emotional satisfaction, with outstanding performances throughout, and writing and direction as assured as can be found. Truly a monumental achievement, and a must-view for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend. It'll be in my DVD player, that much I know.