Today I watched Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH (1946, Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger) as part of my required viewings for my British Cinema module in university. It is their second film that I watch after The Red Shoes.
It’s a nice film, but as with The Red Shoes I had the impression that the film was more of a fun and naive piece of entertainment rather than the deep and meaningful drama I expected. The resolution where “love wins everything, even death” is so clichéd. Besides, this is one of those narratives in which main characters are afraid of death despite it is clear to them that an afterlife exists: if it is so, what there is to be afriad of, and what sense of urgency there could ever be? In fact, if I was to be sure that there is eternal life after death, I would gladly slaughter the most people I can before offing myself! Wouldn’t that simply solve everything?
