*** SPOILER ALERT *** This is a television miniseries adaptation of the late (he died only about a month before I wrote this, at age 103) Herman Wouk's rather vast novel, THE WINDS OF WAR, written in the 1960's and here brought to life dramatically in about five years of filmmaking starting in the late 1970's. Wouk himself also authored the screenplay, and adapted it about as faithfully as possible from the original. It begins in the Spring of 1939 in the period leading up to the opening shots of World War II and ends in the immediate aftermath of Pearl Harbor in the last days of 1941. From the first time I saw it, and still later when I finally read the original book, I saw it as pretty clever application of the aphorism that, "a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down." Wouk's focus was the history of this period (about which he was able to say quite a bit more in print form than here, by the way), and what he did was to find a way to inform even the most history-class-averse audience about these momentous historical events and their causes by cloaking them in the guise of this lengthy soap opera. In essence, here he tricks the audience into learning something about the origins of the European and primary theater of World War II, whether they like it or not.
Wouk, a former United States World War II naval officer (and of Jewish heritage) himself, therefore creates his fictional American Navy family, the Henrys, who along with various in-laws, friends, and acquaintances (ranging from European Jews to Southern Aristocrats from the Redneck Riviera), manage to find at least one or the other of them in just about every key nook or cranny of the momentous happenings that led to the greatest single secular event of any kind in the history of the human race.
Some reviewers on here I think have missed the key point that Wouk was meticulous about telling this history, and that he was surely learned enough in the subject to teach a college course in it. (To date, his explanations from the sequel to this story, WAR AND REMEMBRANCE, of the Battles of Midway and Leyte Gulf, are better than any actual history of either I have ever run across.) Thus, his principal plot device, casting his central character, the patriarch of the clan, Commander (and later, Captain) Victor "Pug" Henry, as an unofficial errand-runner for President Franklin Delano Roosevelt ("FDR"), was no mere dramatic device, but something completely plausible within the context of true history of that presidency, and anything but a series of Forest-Gumpesque accidents. As his historians know only too well, FDR is practically notorious for his cultivating a network of informal advisors and sources of information, just as Pug Henry is dragooned into being here (indeed, observant viewers will note that Henry is not the only informal Roosevelt emissary to appear in this story, either). One advantage FDR would have had with a naval officer like Henry was that, unlike some of his other unofficial agents, here he could order Henry to go when and where he needed him, rather than having to ask for any, however hard-to-withhold, favors. And proving himself to be "a good hound who runs silent" (or at least, silently enough), he winds up getting used in that role much more than he ever would have liked. Arguably, this played out better in writing than it does on film, but nevertheless, it is by no means as unlikely, let alone impossible, as it might seem to the historically uninitiated.
Thus the strength of this miniseries is its writing, and in particular its treatment of history and historical figures. I was especially impressed with his depiction of Franklin Roosevelt. At the time I read the novel, I was simultaneously reading a history of the Roosevelt and his presidency for the same period, and the two mirrored each other so well that Wouk could have used the history text as his basic research material, had it not been that the history was written at least 25 years AFTER this story.
At the same time, the melodrama is completely competent, as good as anything you would be likely to see on TV and better than probably most of it. I especially thought that Wouk's writing of his characters showed plenty of nuance, if, as with all fiction, the consumer is experienced enough to pick up on it. The acting itself was never any worse than fair-to-middlin' TV offerings any place else, and in general the parts were well-cast. Robert Mitchum certainly projected all the gravity necessary to be the serious-minded, ever-responsible, straight-laced, rock-solid American naval officer he portrayed (my own father was a career naval officer, and and there was a very great deal there I recognized). In this regard, I'll add that while many thought the cast the wrong ages to play they parts they had, I have to wonder how they never noticed that if that is some sort of disease afflicting this program, it is a chronic one afflicting countless Hollywood productions of the greatest merit from across the generations, from CASABLANCA to THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE and back again (with side trips ranging from BONANZA to FRASIER). Rather, the rule in Hollywood isn't how old an actor is, but how old they can play, and certainly that principle applies here. Jan Michael Vincent may have been a lot older than Byron Henry, but he could play immature-kid-needing-a-swift-kick-in-the-pants as well as anybody ten or fifteen years younger.
And while practically everybody hates Ali McGraw in this, I couldn't imagine in my own mind how there was any other way to play what was written for her as any more likeable or any less annoying. The truth is, there is more than a suggestion here that this character actually HAS to be annoying because she is really of a very particular type readily familiar to many residents of South Florida (where she actually comes from) and the greater New York area (where her parents undoubtedly came from) in particular, and such women in real life are ALWAYS annoying practically by definition. I also took her constant selfish, ego-gratifying manipulations of her two paramours as something, being young testosterone-filled bucks (more or less), they were simply blind to (anybody experienced enough with the fair sex should be readily familiar with that concept) and simply did not know that this is somebody you don't just walk away from, but run. Meanwhile, most of the other characters are never shown to have enough screen time interacting with her to see her as much other than a very pretty Jewish girl and the screenplay in fact very carefully keeps their comments about her to about that level (Pug Henry's line that "she has eyes a man could get lost in" is especially well-conceived in this regard).
Indeed, when reading this novel and its sequel, I thought Wouk's development of his female characters seemed especially thoughtful, for a male writer, and if there is anything wrong with this character it might only be that Wouk wrote it a little TOO thoughtfully, to the point where he lost sight of maybe what he really should have been doing with it dramatically. At the risk of spoiling anything, I might mention at this point that if the viewer or reader soldiers on past this story through its double-parted sequel, WAR AND REMEMBRANCE, the Natalie Jastrow story becomes, like any good tale they teach you to compose in Creative Writing 101, one of transformation, in this instance from a spoiled manipulator playing mind games to satisfy her female ego to a mother fighting what is very literally a battle of life and death for her family. Indeed, all Wouk's characters are compelled to undergo personal transformations, for one reason or another, as the saga proceeds from this story through to the end of its sequel, just as you would expect for a competent novelist's work.
Probably the other strong point of this series were a lot of its production values, which were often elegant enough for GONE WITH THE WIND and included at times some notable scenic location shooting in places like the world-famous Colosseum in Rome. And I have to disagree with the reviewer who criticized the music. For the time and place this was made (about 40 years ago, now), the audience it was directed at (about all on Social Security, now, assuming they still live at all), and the subject matter it covered, it was perfectly conceived, and carried the dramatic moments just as it was required to do. (I really have to wonder if that reviewer would likewise complain about the voice-over narration used in key spots, asserting that it, too, was "dated".) Given the vast quantity of similar music for similar material spanning at least a 20-year period it seems difficult to understand any such criticism.
In conclusion, probably the worst thing about this is that it is actually only the first act in a three-act play, and unless you proceed on to digest the two-part sequel, you won't get to the end, not only of the War (even though there is probably at least a fighting chance you already know the outcome of that), but of the characters' story arches as they are commenced in this first installment. Suffice to say, that they are rendered with comparable quality to this first installment, both in print and on film.
Wouk, a former United States World War II naval officer (and of Jewish heritage) himself, therefore creates his fictional American Navy family, the Henrys, who along with various in-laws, friends, and acquaintances (ranging from European Jews to Southern Aristocrats from the Redneck Riviera), manage to find at least one or the other of them in just about every key nook or cranny of the momentous happenings that led to the greatest single secular event of any kind in the history of the human race.
Some reviewers on here I think have missed the key point that Wouk was meticulous about telling this history, and that he was surely learned enough in the subject to teach a college course in it. (To date, his explanations from the sequel to this story, WAR AND REMEMBRANCE, of the Battles of Midway and Leyte Gulf, are better than any actual history of either I have ever run across.) Thus, his principal plot device, casting his central character, the patriarch of the clan, Commander (and later, Captain) Victor "Pug" Henry, as an unofficial errand-runner for President Franklin Delano Roosevelt ("FDR"), was no mere dramatic device, but something completely plausible within the context of true history of that presidency, and anything but a series of Forest-Gumpesque accidents. As his historians know only too well, FDR is practically notorious for his cultivating a network of informal advisors and sources of information, just as Pug Henry is dragooned into being here (indeed, observant viewers will note that Henry is not the only informal Roosevelt emissary to appear in this story, either). One advantage FDR would have had with a naval officer like Henry was that, unlike some of his other unofficial agents, here he could order Henry to go when and where he needed him, rather than having to ask for any, however hard-to-withhold, favors. And proving himself to be "a good hound who runs silent" (or at least, silently enough), he winds up getting used in that role much more than he ever would have liked. Arguably, this played out better in writing than it does on film, but nevertheless, it is by no means as unlikely, let alone impossible, as it might seem to the historically uninitiated.
Thus the strength of this miniseries is its writing, and in particular its treatment of history and historical figures. I was especially impressed with his depiction of Franklin Roosevelt. At the time I read the novel, I was simultaneously reading a history of the Roosevelt and his presidency for the same period, and the two mirrored each other so well that Wouk could have used the history text as his basic research material, had it not been that the history was written at least 25 years AFTER this story.
At the same time, the melodrama is completely competent, as good as anything you would be likely to see on TV and better than probably most of it. I especially thought that Wouk's writing of his characters showed plenty of nuance, if, as with all fiction, the consumer is experienced enough to pick up on it. The acting itself was never any worse than fair-to-middlin' TV offerings any place else, and in general the parts were well-cast. Robert Mitchum certainly projected all the gravity necessary to be the serious-minded, ever-responsible, straight-laced, rock-solid American naval officer he portrayed (my own father was a career naval officer, and and there was a very great deal there I recognized). In this regard, I'll add that while many thought the cast the wrong ages to play they parts they had, I have to wonder how they never noticed that if that is some sort of disease afflicting this program, it is a chronic one afflicting countless Hollywood productions of the greatest merit from across the generations, from CASABLANCA to THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE and back again (with side trips ranging from BONANZA to FRASIER). Rather, the rule in Hollywood isn't how old an actor is, but how old they can play, and certainly that principle applies here. Jan Michael Vincent may have been a lot older than Byron Henry, but he could play immature-kid-needing-a-swift-kick-in-the-pants as well as anybody ten or fifteen years younger.
And while practically everybody hates Ali McGraw in this, I couldn't imagine in my own mind how there was any other way to play what was written for her as any more likeable or any less annoying. The truth is, there is more than a suggestion here that this character actually HAS to be annoying because she is really of a very particular type readily familiar to many residents of South Florida (where she actually comes from) and the greater New York area (where her parents undoubtedly came from) in particular, and such women in real life are ALWAYS annoying practically by definition. I also took her constant selfish, ego-gratifying manipulations of her two paramours as something, being young testosterone-filled bucks (more or less), they were simply blind to (anybody experienced enough with the fair sex should be readily familiar with that concept) and simply did not know that this is somebody you don't just walk away from, but run. Meanwhile, most of the other characters are never shown to have enough screen time interacting with her to see her as much other than a very pretty Jewish girl and the screenplay in fact very carefully keeps their comments about her to about that level (Pug Henry's line that "she has eyes a man could get lost in" is especially well-conceived in this regard).
Indeed, when reading this novel and its sequel, I thought Wouk's development of his female characters seemed especially thoughtful, for a male writer, and if there is anything wrong with this character it might only be that Wouk wrote it a little TOO thoughtfully, to the point where he lost sight of maybe what he really should have been doing with it dramatically. At the risk of spoiling anything, I might mention at this point that if the viewer or reader soldiers on past this story through its double-parted sequel, WAR AND REMEMBRANCE, the Natalie Jastrow story becomes, like any good tale they teach you to compose in Creative Writing 101, one of transformation, in this instance from a spoiled manipulator playing mind games to satisfy her female ego to a mother fighting what is very literally a battle of life and death for her family. Indeed, all Wouk's characters are compelled to undergo personal transformations, for one reason or another, as the saga proceeds from this story through to the end of its sequel, just as you would expect for a competent novelist's work.
Probably the other strong point of this series were a lot of its production values, which were often elegant enough for GONE WITH THE WIND and included at times some notable scenic location shooting in places like the world-famous Colosseum in Rome. And I have to disagree with the reviewer who criticized the music. For the time and place this was made (about 40 years ago, now), the audience it was directed at (about all on Social Security, now, assuming they still live at all), and the subject matter it covered, it was perfectly conceived, and carried the dramatic moments just as it was required to do. (I really have to wonder if that reviewer would likewise complain about the voice-over narration used in key spots, asserting that it, too, was "dated".) Given the vast quantity of similar music for similar material spanning at least a 20-year period it seems difficult to understand any such criticism.
In conclusion, probably the worst thing about this is that it is actually only the first act in a three-act play, and unless you proceed on to digest the two-part sequel, you won't get to the end, not only of the War (even though there is probably at least a fighting chance you already know the outcome of that), but of the characters' story arches as they are commenced in this first installment. Suffice to say, that they are rendered with comparable quality to this first installment, both in print and on film.