As I watched NOT ON THIS NIGHT, the latest offering from Stage Wright Films, it brought to mind a time when plays were a mainstay on television screens and, therefore, more accessible to the public eye. While the Golden Age of Television with its Playhouse 90 presentations, among others, featured A-listers before and behind the camera honing their craft in a new medium, was before my time (a claim I can still make, thank you very much), I do recall later shows like the Hallmark Hall of Fame which did the very same thing, albeit in color. Stage Wright brings that format back and updating it in the process with its emphasis on the fusion of both theater and cinema rather than a filmed performance of a play.
NOT ON THIS NIGHT is a fine example of this, shot within the confines of a theater stage (in this case, the Rochester Opera House in Rochester, New Hampshire) utilizing cinematic techniques that go beyond the fourth wall of the theater. Primarily set at the end of World War II, an opening battle sequence best illustrates this style, both minimalistic and impressionistic, making the experience much more personal and dream-like-or rather, that of a nightmare.
The plot of NOT ON THIS NIGHT, adapted from the play by Evelyn L.Y. Jones, is simplicity personified yet is almost secondary as the underlying emotions and philosophic ramifications give it a complexity that lies underneath the entire piece. In the midst of the Battle of the Bulge, two soldiers from opposing sides-one German, one American- are separated from the units and confront each other in the home of a young French woman, living alone amidst the horrors lying outside her door. The night in question is Christmas Eve and the grace shown to these two by the woman cause them to lay down their arms for an ad hoc ceasefire, finding solace in the heat of battle and, eventually, regain their humanity in the process. These three represent the casualties of war, each experiencing the loss of innocence, comrades and loved ones, disillusionment and witnessing events that would bring them to the breaking point until, in the calm, they find the hope to not only survive, but to thrive.
Director Bill Humpheys combines these elements together to create a piece that lingers long after its telling. At one point, Jacqueline, the French woman relates a tale to the two soldiers that occurred on a similar Christmas Eve during the First World War when enemy combatants came together as one just as they had that night. Unfortunately, the fighting resumed the next day as though it never happened. The question of whether history will repeat itself in this instance lends a subtle element of suspense, adding yet another layer that sustains throughout. The strong cast of Judith Feingold, Preston Mead and CJ Voteur all shine in individual moments while ably supporting each other to make this an exemplary three-hander. Production values are exceptional all around, elevating the film even higher.
There are a few bumps along the way, primarily in the last third. A transitional montage begins with an unnecessary recap of previous scenes. There is also a time-jump in the story that is not reflected in the actors or set dressing. But if its purpose is to avoid unconvincing age make-up, it's a pretty fair trade-off.
The strengths of NOT ON THIS NIGHT override those quibbles with its compassionate storytelling and convincing portrayals to delivers its message in a profound, touching and humane manner, one that transcends its time period. Its subject matter is as current as today’s headlines and could be transplanted anywhere in the world since war is still a way of life, a way of death and peace that can be achieved anytime of the year, not just on Christmas Eve. NOT ON THIS NIGHT could have been a perfect fit for a Golden Age of Television anthology program and perhaps could have been a perennial offering, though it can-and should-be viewed anytime of the year.
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