“Stalag 17” (1953) is – thankfully for viewers who struggle with war and/or prison movies – another example of Billy Wilder’s ability to meld two seemingly conflicting moods (comedy and drama; entertaining and serious). Although a little stagey by today’s standards, as it clearly comes from a play, it arguably paved the way for films like “The Shawshank Redemption” and “Life is Beautiful,” while being less traumatizing.
Maybe there’s a dose of “M*A*S*H” in here too, as narrator Cookie (Gil Stratton) sounds like Alan Alda. We meet the American prisoners in one bunkhouse in the German World War II prison camp Stalag 17. All the stock misery – dankness, mud, claustrophobia, the impossibility of escape – is present in glorious black and white.
But when we meet our first German officer, von Scherbach (Otto Preminger, also a director of classics such as “Laura”), director/co-writer Wilder begins to reassure squeamish viewers with other elements. Von Scherbach isn’t a hardcase, but rather takes the approach that he’ll treat prisoners decently so long as they don’t do anything to get him in trouble with his bosses.
“Stalag 17” (1953)
Director: Billy Wilder
Writers: Billy Wilder, Edwin Blum (screenplay); Donald Bevan, Edmund Trzcinski (autobiographical play)
Stars: William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger
Soon we also get the mystery element, although “Stalag 17” isn’t really structured as a whodunit. Someone in the bunkhouse is a mole, feeding information to von Scherbach; perhaps this person is even a Nazi posing as an American soldier.
While “Stalag 17” has a softer, slightly less hopeless touch than other POW films, it is filled with a lot of broad truths about human nature at its most absurd. Prisoner Sefton (William Holden, who won Best Actor in a make-up for the “Sunset Boulevard” snub) openly recognizes it’s a dog-eat-dog world, so he makes deals with German officers in exchange for better treatment or goods. A locked case next to his bunk contains everything short of Milk-Bone underwear.
Absurdities and survival
Why is the day-to-day life of Stalag 17 just short of totally miserable? Because it’s a movie. But also, maybe, because the Red Cross – as per the Geneva Convention – investigates the conditions now and then. Wilder, who fled the Nazis to America, is not naïve, though.
The Red Cross schedules the visits in advance, and the Nazi reaction is predictable: Make the camp look nice (with fresh blankets, for instance) for that one visit, and threaten punishment to any prisoner who complains to the Red Cross. (Not, of course, that the Red Cross has any true power anyway.)
Wilder communicates the misery on a psychological level as, for instance, the men dance to Christmas music with their fellow men, all looking depressed. This side of “Glengarry Glen Ross,” “Stalag 17” is close to the most male-centric movie ever, although we do get peeks at the Russian female POW camp next door. The Americans want a glimpse of skin through a telescope as the women enter the delousing barracks; viewers similarly desire a glimpse of the fairer sex on screen, for a change of pace if nothing else.
Particularly sad is the mental state of Animal (Robert Strauss), whose obsession with Betty Grable is exacerbated by his restrictive situation. (Animal is one of several colorful prisoners. Another is Jay Lawrence’s Bagradian, who does impressions of James Cagney, Cary Grant and other stars of the time.) But at least Animal has some pictures.
And perhaps “Stalag 17” is a commentary on how humans will adjust to even the worst situations if they have access to the tiniest diversions. I never feel the highs of hope while watching the film, though. Instead, Wilder delivers more of a blunt “This is how it is” statement. In a much lesser degree of sacrifice than what POWs endure, I was able to adjust to watching “Stalag 17” due to Wilder’s pragmatic, unchallenging analysis of POW camps. But I was destined to admire it more so than enjoy it.
Wilder Wednesdays looks at the catalog of legendary writer-director Billy Wilder.