I don't know if I'll ever get back to it for a second watch, but I grasped what I could in this profile of Fleet Adm. William F. Halsey Jr., played by James Cagney as he was preparing to retire himself. It's ironic that the opening scene has Halsey preparing to retreat to his cabin to change into civilian clothes. Soft spoken and attentive, he is beloved and gives talks to his men-in groups, one on one and treating everyone of them like they matter. This is Cagney at his most subtle, and at times, I wanted to reach through the screen to grab a hug: from the fictional version of the character, from the actor, and from the spirits of both men who gave so much of themselves. Since the real Halsey had died the previous year, there was a legend surrounding his life, so it makes sense that they cut out anything that would make him seem anything less than a perfect leader of the U.S. military.
One special moment comes in my memory of James Cagney when he was alive: being introduced for a profile in "A Night of 100 Stars". Cagney seemed to be in tears as he accepted this honor, not saying a word, but realizing the impact he made on the world of film. That honor is felt here for Halsey, whether getting bad news about his own son, submitting to shots reluctantly as part of a promise to his departing aide (Dennis Weaver), and sharing the harsh realities of war with an underling he hoped to raise in rank who blamed himself for the loss of nine planes. Cagney takes those nine planes on, adds on ships, submarines and land troops onto his own list of regretful losses.
The story surrounds his command of Guadalcanal, so there's plenty of detail to be dramatized and documented in two hours. Through the narration of director Robert Montgomery, dozens of other officials, both enemy and ally, are introduced. But as taxing as it is to remember them all, when the camera is on Cagney, there's an invisible halo shining on him with the haunting music that practically proclaims Halsey's sainthood, which from what I've read was a total contrast to how he is portrayed here. Cagney just makes all this hero worship tolerable, and I felt myself falling into the pattern of feeling like I was among the truly divine men I knew really nothing of. Maybe one day, we'll get the truth, but for how, this sanitized portrayal will have to do.
One special moment comes in my memory of James Cagney when he was alive: being introduced for a profile in "A Night of 100 Stars". Cagney seemed to be in tears as he accepted this honor, not saying a word, but realizing the impact he made on the world of film. That honor is felt here for Halsey, whether getting bad news about his own son, submitting to shots reluctantly as part of a promise to his departing aide (Dennis Weaver), and sharing the harsh realities of war with an underling he hoped to raise in rank who blamed himself for the loss of nine planes. Cagney takes those nine planes on, adds on ships, submarines and land troops onto his own list of regretful losses.
The story surrounds his command of Guadalcanal, so there's plenty of detail to be dramatized and documented in two hours. Through the narration of director Robert Montgomery, dozens of other officials, both enemy and ally, are introduced. But as taxing as it is to remember them all, when the camera is on Cagney, there's an invisible halo shining on him with the haunting music that practically proclaims Halsey's sainthood, which from what I've read was a total contrast to how he is portrayed here. Cagney just makes all this hero worship tolerable, and I felt myself falling into the pattern of feeling like I was among the truly divine men I knew really nothing of. Maybe one day, we'll get the truth, but for how, this sanitized portrayal will have to do.