Scenes We Love: The Americanization of Emily

In 1964's The Americanization of Emily, James Garner plays Lt. Cmdr. Charlie Madison, a "dog robber" serving under a Navy general. His job is to procure whatever his boss needs, be it booze, food, cigarettes, or female companionship, and he's very good at what he does. A proud coward, Madison's figured out that the best way to avoid being killed in a war is to stay as far away from the fighting as possible. Until, that is, he ends up at Omaha Beach during the D-Day invasion as part of a PR stunt, and ends up an inadvertent hero.

Written by Paddy Chayevsky (Network, Altered States) and directed by Arthur Hiller, the story focuses on Charlie's love affair with a London war widow (Julie Andrews) who's lost her husband, brother and father in the war and finds Charlie's avowed cowardice encouraging -- she can't bear the thought of losing another loved one, and she thinks his attitude is sensible.

In one of the film's best scenes (you'll find it after the jump), Garner uses his considerable charm to make what could have been a preachy, heavy-handed scene into something memorably moving. When Charlie meets Emily's mother, a proud patriot who lives in denial that her husband and sons have been killed, he tells her how he came to his philosophy about war. After enlisting in the Marines, Charlie found himself in a unit invading the Solomon Islands: "There I was, splashing away in the shoals of Guadalcanal. It suddenly occurred to me -- a man could get killed doing this kind of thing. Fact is, most of the men splashing along with me were screaming in agony and dying like flies."

The problem, Charlie explains, is that war makes men brave, while the sensible attitude, the survival-oriented approach, is to be a coward.



"Wars are always fought for the best of reasons," he tells her. "For liberation, or manifest destiny, always against tyranny and always in the best interest of humanity. So far in this war, we've managed to butcher some 10 million humans in the interest of humanity. Next war, it seems we'll have to destroy all of man in order to preserve his damn dignity."

This scene is beautifully paced and multi-layered, sold by Garner's deceptively casual, whip-smart persona. What begins as a light, funny anecdote becomes a personal confession, and he ultimately jars Emily's mother out of her denial by flatly telling her that proud war widows, memorials and parades serve to make war romantic and honorable, which only leads to more war and more death.

"We perpetuate war by exalting its sacrifice," he tells her. Garner, who received two real-life Purple Hearts for his service in the Korean War, reveals a rare side to himself in this scene, as a man whose personal convictions run far deeper than his devil-may-care behavior suggests.

The Americanization of Emily won two Oscars, for art direction and cinematography, and a BAFTA for Andrews. It's a grossly overlooked movie with a great cast -- also on hand are James Coburn, Melvyn Douglas and Keenan Wynn -- and well worth seeking out.