This is probably not the best place to start with King Vidor; but start here I did. Vidor is, hands down, recognized most as the director of two of the American silent screen’s most enduring classics: The Big Parade and The Crowd, among a host of other silent and talking films, including an adaptation of War and Peace, an adaptation of Ayn Rand, and numerous Depression dramas. The Citadel isn’t one of his most obscure films, but it is far from one of his most recognizable masterworks. Nevertheless, if its any indication of his talents, I believe I can dig him.
I’m going to say one thing before I continue: Rosalind Russell looks so much like Setsuko Hara in this film. Its absolutely uncanny, and it took me a little while to get a grip on myself and get over this. That said, as for the film itself. The Citadel is a very straight British dramatic film, detailing the exploits of an idealistic young doctor named Andrew Manson as he, constantly battling prejudices, superstition, apathy and his own human shortcomings, as he moves from the coal minds of Wales, to London. Narratively speaking, its nothing one hasn’t seen before, is perfectly predictable, and for the most part well within the expectations one has of classic Hollywood.
But the film excels, nonetheless, most assuredly due to two or three things: first of all, the production values are sterling. Though one usually thinks of MGM-produced films (which this is) in terms of glitz and glamor, whatever money was spent on the sets of The Citadel obviously went to making it look very convincing and authentic, and the production never calls attention to itself in either the direction of artifice or blandness. This extends beyond the sets; especially for a 1930s film, its extras, wardrobe and use of location work perfectly. Granted, for high level British productions of the time, this may well be the norm, but I have little experience with those. Anyway, the integrity of the film’s milieu is beyond question, and it never quite looks or feels ‘Hollywood’ the way, say, Keys to the Kingdom did; and that film was mostly set outdoors, while this one is set indoors.
A good deal of that unique look must be attributed to Vidor, and the film’s single minded certainty reflects such a strong hand. No matter how predictable its plot, the story always rings true, and the performances are sublimely, suitably understated. One scene in particular had a very palpable weight to it: the scene where the good doctor, refusing to give up on the apparent failure of his first attempt at delivering a baby, returns to the assumed dead child and resuscitates it. It’s a harrowing, even grueling moment...probably the least ‘Hollywood’ shot in the film is a particularly unnerving (and frankly photographed) shot of the still child itself.
This level of dramatic weight is upheld throughout the entire film, and a natural authenticity underlines its drama, which is exceedingly important if you’re telling a story that deals with issues that are very real. The Citadel attacks the nature of corruption in the medical profession, and ardently argues the importance of personal responsibility, altruism, and friendship in terms of great clarity and, unlike similar films (mainly Kurosawa’s Red Board; a film I still admire), never drags or resorts to senationalism. Its that rare thing for a film of the 1930s...a serious drama about serious things that never shifts to melodrama even in its darkest hours. Its an utterly, profoundly solid and unpretentious film, and like I said earlier, if this film is reflective of the rest of Vidor’s filmography, then I can’t see more of them soon enough.
87 / 100
This is yet another film in Warners’ Archive series, unfortunately. I believe the transfer is progressive on this disc, and the print is in very good shape.
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