by Noel Coward
Then there was the matter of the “phantom honor.” Noël appears to have been “sounded out” to see if he would accept a knighthood, should it be offered—that being the normal procedure. It was believed that His Majesty had expressed a personal interest in the matter. Although irked by the knighthood that had recently been conferred on Alexander Korda, which, Noël felt, cheapened the honor, he indicated that he would be proud to accept. But even as he did so, wheels were turning within wheels.
At the end of the year Churchill wrote to the king:
29 December 1942
Since our conversation at luncheon today, I have examined, in consultation with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the details of the case brought against Mr. Noël Coward. The Chancellor and Sir Richard Hopkins contend that it was one of substance and that the conferment of a Knighthood upon Mr. Coward so soon afterwards would give rise to unfavourable comment.
With considerable personal reluctance I have therefore come to the conclusion that I could not advise Your Majesty to proceed with this proposal on the present occasion.
With my humble duty, I remain
Your Majesty's faithful subject and servant
WINSTON S. CHURCHILL
Meanwhile, the accolades poured in. In the Coward Archive they fill their own folder, but the following will give a sense of the emotional impact the film imparted to a whole range of people.
Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., at that time serving in the U.S. Navy himself:
H.M.S. Tormentor
September 28th
Dear Noël,
I tried to send a telegram last night and say all I wanted about the film but I found I had, as they say, no time in which to write a short message. I have to put it in a letter.
I am back again on duty after taking the train immediately after the movie. I managed a few hours leave to come up to Town to see it. I had just come in from the sea, so I was in the right mood for the film's subject matter.
It's difficult adequately to sum up my feelings about In Which We Serve because I am still too moved by it to offer you a detached and comprehensive report. But as I am off to “work” in a few minutes and the opportunities for writing will be scarce, I'll attempt it. I have to attempt it.
In the first place, the film as a theatrical presentation was without a flaw. I've been “born into” my job and have been working at it for 19 years. I think I know something about it. Your picture from beginning to end was superb] The writing was masterly. I will not say that this was to be expected, as it wasn't. Writing for film, as you no doubt have learned, is a very different technique from play writing. Your construction, dialogue, dramatic inflections and punctuation showed a thorough knowledge of what was meant when the words “Motion Pictures” were coined. It is a great motion picture from beginning to end. The direction, the editing, the acting {everyone), the score made it a production of great quality. You are a great and valuable addition to a medium which, despite its vagaries, I dearly love and all of us, belonging primarily to films, are enriched by having such a giant join our ranks. Especially valuable is the contribution to the British Film Industry which your picture makes and to the encouraging growth of Actor-Producer in movies. As a professional I was thrilled and as a part of the audience I was moved as I have not been moved in any theatre since the war began. I shall hope to see it several times more—and enjoy a thorough emotional massage.
I want to hear Celia Johnson's toast again—Capt. “D's” farewell to his men—Joyce Carey before the blitz—Johnny Mills’ remark on Chamberlain's declaration of war—the look on the lad's face [Richard Attenborough, in his film debut] as he left his post of duty—the two lovers walking around the horse-dung in the road— Bernard Miles all the time—the day on the downs with the dog-fight overhead—oh, so many things …
As someone in the Navy, I was thrilled. Every minute of the film was so honest that it hurt. Having served on destroyers myself I know how honest it all was. Every sailor, regardless of nationality, can recognise himself and his shipmates. Even though I do not belong to the Royal Navy, I felt a chill of pride in the service itself and linked myself in with the camaraderie of the sea. I experienced a new, strange sort of “service” patriotism—a gladness that we are all fighting together for the same kind of people in the same kind of world. You have made me proud of the fleet in which I, too, in a small way, serve.
Your profession and, most of all, your country owe you a profusion of thanks. May I, as a friend, also offer mine?
Yours,
Doug
Other older friends were quick to respond. Lynn wrote:
Martin Beck Theatre
West 45th Street
New York City
December 8th, 1942
Darling, darling, darling—
We have seen the picture—that is, a few days ago—and I have been trying to arrange in my mind the best way that I can thank you and tell you about it. The effect it had on me was tremendous and I imagine it will have that same effect on everyone else. I feel not as if I had seen a picture, but as if I had gone through a great, terrifying and wonderful experience and it has left me very changed and set apart and with a deeper longing than ever to come to England, which I feel as if I must never do unless I come during the war. Both Alfred and I feel that we will never be able to look any of you in the eye unless we do that.
The script of In Which We Serve is itself a classic and will, I am sure, be kept in the British archives forever and ever. The acting never for once smacks of the theatre. With my acute ear, I did not once hear anybody giving a reading or a theatre-wise intonation. Another brilliantly wise thing that you did was the discretion of your own part. There were a great many other parts better than yours and yet, because of that, the simplicity and nobility of that man became more high-lighted. I forgot entirely that it was you and really can't remember what you looked like, except for one heavenly shot which I would like to have sculptured.
Joyce [Carey] was superb. Johnny Mills’ performance a dream of beauty. I mention these because I know them, but it is the picture as a whole, the truth of it, the translating of that truth to the screen that only a very great artist could have done.—throwing every well-known trick overboard and using only the best tricks of all, simplicity and truth.
I thought Johnny Mills’ sweetheart turned in a beautiful performance. But you don't think of it as a play of performances. You think of it as something that has happened that you know intimately about and that everyone in the cast is a friend of yours. There is no doubt that it will be a sensational success here and it will be the best ambassador that England has ever had. What are they going to do for you now? Such an achievement should have great recognition.
I wish you could be sent here on some mission so that we could see you for a minute, darling.
XXXLYNN
P.S. Alec had breakfast with us this morning. He is pretty well considering all he has gone through. [Woollcott was now suffering from a serious heart condition.] You know he is going to do a broadcast [on his show The Town Crier] about your picture?
Woollcott himself wrote:
New York City
November 12 th 1942
Dear Noël,
There isn't a particle of you that I know, remember, or want. But my hat is off to you after seeing In Which We Serve, I've seen three or four good movies in my time. This is one of them. I saw it the other night in an airless projection room along with the oddest assembly of people. As we got into the elevator we found it was occupied by an elderly gentleman to whom I immediately knelt. Not to be outdone he knelt too. Grace [Eustis] was puzzled until I introduced him. “This,” I said, “is Mr. Somerset Maugham.” Howard Dietz sat in front of me. In the middle distance was Ben Hecht and I thought afterwards how paltry he must have considered the little puddle of water he had thrown you into [in The Scoundrel’].
My dear Noël, this job you have done seems to me a really perfect thing. There was no moment of it from which I drew
back or dissented. I went away marveling at its sure-footedness and realizing that all the ups and downs of your life (in particular the downs) had taught you to be unerring for your great occasion. All your years were a kind of preparation for this. If you had done nothing else and were never again to do anything else they would have been well spent.
Of course I have thought of all these things afterwards. At the time I just sat and cried quietly. For, after all, this picture is of courage all compact and courage is the only thing that brings the honorable moisture to these eyes.
Work as good as this, even if it were not work to such good purpose, always has commanded me. I have got in touch with the United Artists people and volunteered to go on some national broadcast program and do a spot of drum-beating for the picture just before it is released, the fee to go to the British War Relief.
Neysa McMein expressed what many of the other Algonks undoubtedly felt but, for once, didn't know how to express without having their sangfroid melt:
In that country that is paved with good intentions my seat is in the bag because for months I've been planning to look up some brand new adjectives and then try and tell you how I felt about In Which We Serve, Having been six times, each time I marvel at the beauty of your words, and the glory of your making your idea come true.
Incidentally, I behave the same way at each showing. I start out brave as all Hell, but I always end up the same way, looking a fright and too broken up to even notice the contemptuous glances given me by the tougher customers.
Basil Rathbone wrote on behalf of the “Hollywood Brits”:
December 18, 1942
Dear Noël,
A Special Committee of our United Nations saw your In Which We Serve last night. I find myself in the hopeless position of being unable to adequately express myself about your picture which moved me more deeply than anything on celluloid has ever done before—dear Noël, it seems to me you have made a picture that must rank with the few that have the right to be handed down to posterity. As a Britisher I felt so grateful to you, but so helpless at this time. In Peace we must be true to those who lived and died so magnificently to give us another chance. I am not too well informed on all the technicalities on the making of moving pictures but I did see things I liked tremendously. Your economy of emotion, of course, and your superb dialogue—some most expert cutting, so that the story carried one along breathless. I cannot wait to see it again and I hope again and again. A magnificent human document.
It's not been easy being stuck out here at the moment of one's Country's greatest hour in her history—one's applications to return were turned down (twice) but perhaps some helpful work has been contributed in clothes and money and good will. For instance, I am going to the Los Angeles shipyards at 4 a.m. on Friday to talk to “The Graveyard Shift”!
[Ronald] Colman and [Nigel] Bruce and I went on the War Bonds Drive Tour—speaking 3 or 4 times a day all over the country and I believe one has been able, here, to favorably serve British interests. But seeing your picture makes one feel a poor thing in the face of all the real greatness and sacrifice of those at home. How are we to make Peace and the keeping of the Peace emotional? How are we to make important, for 100 years at least, what men and women and children are living and dying for today?
Dear Noël—you have such great talents do keep us well stirred up for as long as you live.
God bless you for In Which We Serve and thanks a thousand times for giving the first night receipts to British War Relief as our contribution to the United Nations Drive.
Yours ever,
BASIL
Fritzi Massary, Noël's Operette star, was also now in Hollywood:
Oh darling Noël, what a Man you are! I was sure nothing could surprise me any more—but then I went to see your picture, and there I could not close my mouth. You must know I saw you for the first time as an actor. What wonderful, wonderful work have you done. Your country can and must be proud of you.
I have many reasons to wish that the war will be over soon—one of them is that I am longing to put my arms around you again, and whisper into your ear: I admire you, and how proud am I to have you for a friend.
My life is not very colorful but I am satisfied and I know how lucky I am because I have no one in the Third Reich, no one in the war and am able to help, in a modest way, according to my possibilities. The only thing which hurts me is to be excluded from defense work for the reason of having been born in the gay city of Vienna. Give my love to your mother and to all the friends who remember me, and if it is not asking too much, have someone of your “staff” drop me a line about yourself.
A tender embrace
From your
FRITZI
Binkie Beaumont also saw his old friend in a new light:
H.M. TENNENT LTD.
Globe Theatre
Shaftesbury Avenue
London W i.
Wednesday
My dear Noël,
I did not write to you on Monday because I went to see the film again that night and was more moved, if possible, than on Sunday. How proud you must be of such a great achievement. If your career had been in Pictures all your life, surely it would have been amazing, but having only done The Scoundrel as an actor, there are no words.
My first reaction was that I had seen a perfect Film, and it was only after that I realized about the direction, writing and score. The latter is so subtle—but so important … And then I realized how magnificent the acting was—you particularly—and the whole cast are characters and one thinks of them as “Capt. D” and “Shorty” and not actors—in fact, it is awfully hard to realize it's you, Joyce and Johnny Mills.
It's so hard to say what one likes best as the whole is perfect—a kind of magnificently gigantic News Reel—I shall never believe the week-end I spent with you at Denham watching Shots had anything to do with the Film, because I really believe that I have been to sea and lived with The Torrin,
How wonderfully you play the Dunkirk sequence, the whole of the farewell, the two cautions, the commissioning speech, the picnic scene and all the scenes of the Float … in fact, the whole thing.
Joyce has never been so good, but then nor has Celia, Johnny, Bernard Miles or any of them.
The bomb falling, the pregnant K. Walsh scenes, the cheering of the Ship, the shot of Richard Attenborough walking down the dock, the water bubbles dissolving from the Float, the empty screen after the bomb has fallen, the sound effects, Shorty breaking the news to Walter, the Chamberlain sequence, the Hardys at the Music Hall—in fact I can go on at great length and shall when I come to Bristol.
I fear this has turned out to be just another “Fan” letter and one of the thousands you will receive. “Oh, dear Mr. Coward. You are as clever as paint and far prettier than Evelyn Laye.” Fancy doing three Plays and the Film Gala all in one week!
May I, at the same time, tell you how deeply I appreciate our lovely association—it makes me very proud, and at the same time stimulated to work with you—this all sounds very pompous but I hope and trust that you know what I really mean.
Love,
BINKIE.
Director Carol Reed (who might so easily have been the director of choice):
Never have I been more moved or excited by any Picture—No acting in Films has ever been better … I have just left Alex Korda who thought it perfect—we both said we hoped you were pleased enough to come back and do more of them—and then we were silent for a while—we got awfully depressed and drank to our own future.
Darling,
I couldn't speak properly when I saw you but I think you know what I felt about your great achievement.
All love, IVOR
It breathes goodness—the real deep goodness that is in England.
SYBIL THORNDIKE
When it was over, I found myself saying with wobbling lips and tearful eyes—”Isn't it wonderful?”
DAME MAY WHITTY
From his new post at the Foreign Office, Noë
l's old friend Anthony Eden wrote:
October 20th
Foreign Office
S.W.i.
My dear Noël,
I have just seen the film and write to thank you for it. I was moved, proud and ashamed—Proud of the Royal Navy, ashamed to be sit ting at a desk myself, moved because I d——d well couldn't help being—
You have created many and varied works of art. You have never done anything so big as this, so restrained, unselfish and inspired— No other living man could have done it. Thank you, Noël,
Yours ever,
ANTHONY
But there were a handful of letters that must have given Noël particular satisfaction. When del Giudice and Havelock-Allan had first approached him, the third man had been Charles Thorpe of Columbia Pictures. He soon pulled out and, since del Guidice talked a better game than he could afford to play, the film's funding soon became a critical issue and one that nearly involved calling it off in mid-production. It took a lot of persuasion on the part of a lot of influential people in the British film industry to piece together the necessary funding, and one of the key persuaders was producer Alexander Korda:
Claridges
Brook Street W.i.
20th October 1942
My dear Noël,
I have just received this cable from America sent by the Vice President and Foreign Manager of United Artists. I thought it would amuse you as, in spite of the perfectly idiotic expression, the fact still remains that they like your picture.
Yours ever,
ALEX
16TH OCTOBER 1942
ALEXANDER KORDA HOTEL CLARIDGE LONDON
WHEN YOU FORCED US TO INVEST ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS IN A MOTION PICTURE I THOUGHT WE HAD ALL GONE CRAZY BUT … QUOTE IN WHICH WE SERVE UNQUOTE IS POSITIVELY SENSATIONAL … A MRS. MINIVER ON A BATTLESHIP CONGRATULATIONS AND THANKS ARTHUR KELLY
Perhaps the most satisfying volte-face came from the Ministry of Information that had caused him so much trouble from the very start of the war: