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Spielberg Sundays: 1941 (1979)


I think it’s time to talk about World War II.
Steven Spielberg has, to say the least, a fascination with the Second World War, having set a number of his movies in that period, all of which critically comment on it to some degree or another. He’s called it “the most significant event of the last one hundred years” and as a baby boomer born only a year after the war ended, it would make sense that it would feel very close and constantly relevant to him. Movies are a great way to process complexities in the world, and the Second World War with its deep horrific history and behemoth impact, the reverberations of which are still felt today, is rife for analysis in cinema, and will continue to be for a long time.
But 1941 was a curiously misguided place to start. Why did Spielberg make this movie? He feels passionately enough about the war to make something serious, so why did he go for a farce? Maybe he just wanted to see if he could, and Spielberg himself attests to being fuelled by his ego coming off a pair of major successes, but I think he also had a genuine interest. Because while it has never been his strong suit, Spielberg definitely loves comedy. 1941’s failure prevented him from making another himself (except arguably Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade), but he’s produced comedies like Continental Divide, The Money Pit, Innerspace, and Joe Versus the Volcano, cameoed in The Blues Brothers and Austin Powers, oversaw in an active capacity all those great Warner Brothers cartoons in the 90’s like Tiny Toons, Animaniacs, and Freakazoid, and has generally demonstrated a good sense of humour about himself. So it’s a bit of a shame he wasn’t able to pull this one off, but I think it’s important to examine why it didn’t work.
Loosely based on the Bombardment of Ellwood and the Battle of Los Angeles, a Japanese submarine nears the coast of America not long after the attack on Pearl Harbor. On the mainland meanwhile, the movie follows a series of disjointed plots; such as a former dishwasher (Bobby Di Cicco) attempting to go to a dance with his USO crush (Dianne Kay), a captain (Tim Matheson) seducing a secretary (Nancy Allen) whose only turned on by flying, a tank crew armouring the beach-front home of a nationalistic civilian (Ned Beatty), and a disorderly fighter pilot (John Belushi) seemingly waging a one-man war.
This movie was written by Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale, and in many respects it feels more like a film by them than Spielberg. It not only foreshadows George McFly’s arc in Back to the Future but the sensibilities are also very similar. There are a lot of time-specific jokes and nostalgia, and the dialogue tends very corny. But the charm and unique personality that would characterize their later collaborations is absent. Also, much of the comedy is aimless, confused, or unfocussed. A number of times something unusual that’s meant to be funny will happen, but it’s missing the joke; like when a military jerk (Treat Williams), who already dislikes protagonist Wally for no reason, starts a brawl for getting a little egg yolk on his shirt. Williams’ character also acts abusively possessive of Kay’s out of nowhere and in a jarringly inconsistent manner. Why? What’s supposed to be funny here? This movie was aware of the comedic environment it was coming out in though, and I suspect it’s for that reason that there are numerous fractured subplots. It may have been trying to be like Animal House (it already has two of that films’ principal cast). But it cuts to disparate storylines as if they’re sketches. Slim Pickens shows up and seems to be important for a while when he’s captured by the Japanese; but then he escapes and is never heard from again. His presence of course puts you in mind of another far superior war satire, Dr. Strangelove, and there may be another reason for Spielberg to have made 1941 –an ardent admirer of Kubrick may have wanted to imitate him.
The occasions where the movie does get funny, it’s stemming from a performance. Like Caddyshack, which came out the following year, this movie’s central character is a bland young man who has run-ins with the more outrageous characters played by seasoned comedy veterans. But while Caddyshack knew the audience was there for Rodney Dangerfield, Chevy Chase, Ted Knight, and Bill Murray, folks like John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, and Ned Beatty aren’t nearly as prominently featured as this dull kid and his romantic follies. Which is unfortunate because when they’re on-screen, they are funny, or can quickly recover from a lame gag. In fact, though most are under-utilized, this might be the greatest cast Spielberg’s ever had for a movie, made up of acclaimed actors and some of the best comedians of that era alike. In addition to the typically outrageous Belushi and a dry Aykroyd, Williams is hounded by Wendie Jo Sperber, while Lorraine Gary is Beatty’s long-suffering wife. Robert Stack makes for a terrific humourless general, while Warren Oates is a great deranged colonel. One of Aykroyd’s underlings is John Candy (another is Mickey Rourke), Murray Hamilton is tortured by being stuck on a ferris wheel with Eddie Deezen, and Joe Flaherty essentially imports Guy Caballero from SCTV. Patti LuPone makes an appearance, as does Elisha Cook Jr., and there’s a triptych of Laverne & Shirley cameos from Penny Marshall, Michael McKean, and David Lander. 
Most interesting by far though are Toshiro Mifune and Christopher Lee as the films’ villains, a Japanese and German commander respectively, on the invading sub. Of course Lee was no stranger to playing these kind of roles, but rarely did he appear in comedies. And Mifune rarely appeared in movies outside of Japan, period. So to have these two screen legends acting opposite each other in an American comedy is a little surreal. Had Spielberg also gotten John Wayne or Charlton Heston as he’d hoped, it would have added to the strangeness (both turned it down due to their fierce conservatism).
As for Spielberg’s self-referential humour, the reappearance of Lucille Benson from Duel is a fine easter egg; however it’s that elongated opening Jaws parody that’s more embarrassing. Not only does it feel voyeuristic considering the nude Susan Blacklinie is a lot more visible, but it’s so forceful and trying so hard that any initial fun of the joke is sapped incredibly quickly. It’s definitely a sign of a director too sure of himself or cocky in his reputation, and even Spielberg felt this, which is why he later avoided self-references in Ready Player One.
And isn’t xenophobia hilarious? The frequent Japanese slurs in this movie are also an issue. One might argue it’s only used to authentically portray the atmosphere of the environment, but the framing needs to also be considered. Not all of the characters using this terminology are bad guys or jokes, and the xenophobia is never the target of mockery itself. The way this language is dropped so casually and regularly in a period-set but thoroughly modern movie, goes a ways to accidentally normalizing it. Despite some of his buffoonery, like in Animal House, Belushi’s character resonates with a large part of the audience for his rebelliousness, impulsiveness, and self-confidence -so when he calls the Japanese “slants” it’s not difficult for some to perceive that as okay. Also I resent John Candy playing a racist.
1941 is an unnecessarily long movie. Over a couple scenes, two or three minutes’ worth of Dumbo plays just about uninterrupted to pad it out. Pacing issues bog it down, the action sequences are rough, but the movie’s greatest failing may be that it never actually satirizes war. Being set on the home front, they never comment on the action, politics, or death toll; even the fact there is a war on feels secondary to comedy around paranoia, militarism, and just 1940s American culture. This dissonance between what it purports to be doing and what it actually does is 1941’s greatest mark of ineffectualness. Whatever reasons Spielberg had for directing this ill-conceived movie, whether experimental, auteuristic, or genuine enthusiasm, he certainly learned from it. 1941 was his first critical failure, and though not a box office bomb, it under-performed significantly compared to his previous films. It’s got cult status now, most likely due to the people involved, but is generally regarded as one of Spielberg’s biggest mistakes. So to recoup his good favour he made a funnier movie about relic-hunting Nazis.

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