Released in 1946, The Best Years of Our Lives would become the highest-grossing picture of the 1940s. It tapped with searing honesty into the complex mindset and emotions of a nation just beginning to recover from the devastation of World War II. Audiences were thirsty for a film like this that reflected their current feelings yet celebrated good, old-fashioned, American resiliency. Legendary director William Wyler had barely returned from making military documentaries. After he guided Mrs. Miniver to the top award in 1942, he volunteered with the U.S. Army Air Forces for the remainder of the war. The Best Years of Our Lives was his reintroduction to civilian life and Hollywood, and he often said that, among his many films, this was his personal favorite.

The story focuses on the lives of three veterans who meet for the first time as they make their way home to the fictional “Boone City,” a midsized, Midwestern metropolis patterned after Cincinnati. Winning his second Best Actor award, Fredric March portrays Platoon Sergeant Al Stephenson. Dana Andrews is the decorated bombardier Captain Fred Derry. And newcomer and non-professional actor Harold Russell is Petty Officer 2nd Class Homer Parrish. While conducting an actual training session, Army instructor Russell lost both of his hands when the TNT detonator fuse he was holding went off. Wyler spotted him in a short film about rehabilitating soldiers and cast him in the part. Harold Russell remains the only person in history to receive two Oscars for the same performance. The Academy had already voted to recognize his screen appearance with an honorary award for bringing hope and courage to his fellow veterans when Russell was also nominated for, and won, Best Supporting Actor.

Harold Russell as Homer, Dana Andrews as Fred, and Fredric March as Al.

On average, I last about 15 minutes watching this movie before the tears start to flow. It happens as soon as Homer and Al are dropped off at their respective homes. This is the ultimate “coming home story.” It’s cathartic and simultaneously joyous and heartbreaking to see these three men reintroduce themselves to their loved ones. The cast, direction, screenplay, editing, and cinematography are perfection, but above all else, it’s the music. Hugo Friedhofer’s Oscar-winning score reaches deep inside me from the first strains and doesn’t let go. It’s somewhat ahead of its time, like something from the mid-1950s. Little wonder other composers in the industry took note and emulated it. His music provides an aural background for the characters and evokes the history of our nation. The main theme is melodic but isn’t hummable right away. It rises, then keeps rising just when it should resolve. It catches me off-guard every time and takes my breath away. Later, near the end, it emulates the roar of bomber engines, and again, I’m in awe of Friedhofer’s imagination.

The three principal characters—Al, Fred, and Homer—each struggle with internal demons after spending a lifetime away during those wartime years. Homer has a loving family and a high-school sweetheart next door (newcomer Cathy O’Donnell), but he shuts down at the first signs of intimacy, due to the loss of his hands. Al comes home to a loving wife (the brilliant Myrna Loy), two fine children, an upscale apartment, and a promotion to vice president of the bank where he worked before enlisting. Despite the good fortune, Al drowns out his disturbing wartime memories and the inadequacies plaguing him for abandoning his family by diving headfirst into a liquor bottle.

Teresa Wright and Dana Andrews.

When all is said and done, it’s Fred (Dana Andrews), who soars the highest and falls the hardest. I find it odd that Andrews wasn’t recognized by the Academy for his exceptional performance, considering the other two leads both won Oscars. I think this is Andrews’ finest work in any film. Perhaps it’s a case of “category ambiguity.” Established star Fredric March won a leading award, and beginner Harold Russell the supporting award, but all three actors share equal screen time and dramatic development. Maybe they didn’t know whether to push Andrews for a leading or supporting nomination, and the votes split, so he ended up with nothing. Regardless, it’s a head-scratcher. After leaving his job as a soda jerk in Boone City, Fred comes back a decorated war hero rising to the rank of captain. Following an impromptu, all-night bender with his new buddies, he searches for his bride (Virginia Mayo) whom he married 20 days before he left. She’s been working in nightclubs while he was away, but once his money runs out, he discovers just how little they have in common. Fred’s eye turns to Al’s daughter Peggy (the lovely Teresa Wright), who understands his hard truth and admires him just the same. It turns out Fred doesn’t have practical training for any profession other than dropping bombs with great precision or scooping ice cream behind a drugstore counter. This makes his readjustment to civilian life all the more painful, and it’s his journey that is the most compelling.

Harold Russell, Teresa Wright, Dana Andrews, Myrna Loy, Hoagy Carmichael, and Fredric March.

There are so many emotional peaks in this movie—indelible moments that resonate after countless viewings. The genius of Wyler is that he lets the camera linger on an actor’s face after the closing line in a scene. Most directors would cut away, due to pacing issues or an unwavering need to keep the momentum going. Wyler is smart enough to know that it’s not just what is spoken, but it’s also what goes unsaid by a character that is equally important. He lets his cameras roll, holding or even pushing in for a closeup. We can see the pain, the confusion, and often the contradiction between dialogue and underlying emotion. Wyler truly understands the power of film as a storytelling medium.

The Best Years of Our Lives shows us just how much our country had changed and was changing after the war. There is a sadness in the loss of innocence but also a celebration of hope for the future. This movie captures America at a crossroads, with art imitating life in the best possible way. Speaking of “best,” the title is ambiguous as well. It eulogizes those “best years” in a nostalgic sense for a period of time that was sacrificed and could never be returned, but it also reassures us in the end that perhaps those “best years” are now and yet to come.

The Best Years of Our Lives