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Saturday, November 11, 2017

The Inn of the Sixth Happiness (1958) [UR] ****

A film review by Jeffrey Kauffman for Blu-ray.com on February 8, 2014.

Gladys Aylward is a name that doesn't ring many bells nowadays, but for a brief time in the late fifties, she was the object of some considerable international interest. A small (barely five feet tall), unassuming woman who had spent her (equally small) life savings on a passage to China, where she worked with another émigré named Jeannie Lawson in spreading the good Word, and where she ultimately gained a certain notoriety for heroically leading a ragtag bunch of Chinese orphans to safety during China's war with Japan in the late thirties.

Aylward's fame was quite considerable in China, but she was still only marginally known in her native Great Britain until Alan Burgess wrote a biography of Aylward entitled The Small Woman, which hit the bestseller charts in 1957. (Alan Burgess should not be confused with Anthony Burgess of A Clockwork Orange fame.) It didn't take Hollywood long to figure out this amazing story was ripe for a cinematic adaptation, though as so often happens in the film world, the truth wasn't deemed good enough, and several key changes were made to Aylward's actual story. Perhaps the oddest decision was the casting of Ingrid Bergman - tall, statuesque, obviously attractive, and not to put too fine a point on it, Swedish - as the diminutive, evidently Cockney accented and by all accounts fairly plain looking Aylward. The film perhaps more understandably telescopes some of the events in Aylward's actual life story to make for a more compelling film experience, but other decisions are almost funny; in real life, Aylward's Chinese hostel was actually called The Inn of the Eight Happinesses. Aylward was reportedly very unhappy with The Inn of the Sixth Happiness, but if one looks objectively on the film as an entertainment rather than an absolutely accurate historical document, there's a good deal to be enjoyed here. While perhaps too long for its own good (clocking in at well over two and a half hours), The Inn of the Sixth Happiness is the kind of old fashioned historical epic that was so popular in the late fifties, one fraught with danger, lots of local color and just a hint of romance.

Bergman plays Aylward like a slightly petulant, stubborn and headstrong woman who is nonetheless absolutely convinced that God wants her to go to China to serve as a missionary. The opening scenes of the film establish Aylward's single minded determination to achieve this goal, despite the fact that film's official missionary group has deemed her inappropriate for such work. Leaving that assessment somewhat crestfallen, she rather coincidentally notices a travel agency and goes in, insisting that she be allowed to buy a ticket to China on an installment plan that the agency doesn't even offer. According to Aylward's unusual way of thinking, once she's committed to the idea with a down payment, it will make paying for it over the course of time an easier prospect.

The film stretches the truth a bit in its formulation of how Aylward actually ultimately gained a foothold in China, positing a kindly employer named Sir Francis Jamison (Ronald Squire) who pulled a few strings (and wrote a few letters), ultimately getting Aylward a position with the already established Jeannie Lawson (Athene Seyler). Despite this fanciful setup, The Inn of the Sixth Happiness starts to establish its bona fides as a moving drama, if not a stoutly accurate historical epic, once Aylward finally does get to the place she's been so sure she belongs for so long.

Aylward learns to interact well with the local leader, an imperious man (or more appropriately, Mandarin) played by Robert Donat. Her ability to interface with the local peasantry provides the early dramatic impetus for the film, as does a burgeoning romance with a so-called Eurasian captain named Lin Nan (Curt Jurgens). The film really starts to pick up steam once Aylward gets involved in what she sees as a major human rights issue, the horrifying binding of women's feet which had a long historical precedent but which was finally falling out of fashion.

The stories of the Mandarin, the captain and Aylward dovetail rather nicely in the film's final extended sequence, when the Japanese begin attacking mainland China and the captain tries to talk Aylward into evacuating immediately. Things get more complicated when Aylward suddenly becomes the caretaker for a gaggle of (incredibly cute) orphans, all of whom will perish in the attack if she can't figure out a way to get them to safety. This disconcerting state of affairs is only further exacerbated when even more orphans show up at the last moment, just as Aylward and her trusty aide Li (Burt Kwouk) have decided to make a run (and/or walk) for it, leading the kids by foot to a safer region.

The Inn of the Sixth Happiness is big, glossy entertainment, but it's surprisingly heartfelt, with a generous dash of both drama and humor spicing up the proceedings. Gorgeously shot (in Wales, of all places) by the incomparable Freddie Young, and with a really impressive production design capably recreating the village life of China during that era, the film is also notable for its nicely nuanced performances (though some may find the prospect of two Caucasians playing Asians - or at least half breeds - politically incorrect by today's standards). The film plays its heartstring tugging aspects without shame, repeatedly depicting people initially not especially liking Aylward but gradually at least becoming fond of her, and in the case of Lin, more than that. Perhaps surprisingly, The Inn of the Sixth Happiness snagged an Oscar nomination for its director, veteran Mark Robson, while remaining shut out in all the other categories.

The Inn of the Sixth Happiness is a near perfect entertainment in the vaunted old fashioned late fifties style. It's big, probably a bit too glossy for its subject matter, but undeniably enjoyable, filled with luscious scenery, really gorgeous sets and costumes, and some wonderfully moving performances. Some may feel the film could have been judiciously trimmed by at least twenty minutes to a half hour, but for those willing to relax into an old style epic, this is an evocative and even meaningful experience. [Kauffman’s rating: **** out of 5 stars]

Labels: biography, drama, Ingrid Bergman, romance, war
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