Reflections
The Movie That Made Me Want to Be a Lawyer
May 19, 2023
I was seven years old when I saw A Matter of Life and Death (1946)1 on television. It was 1972 and, as I have
explained to my 10-year-old son many times, you only had one shot back then to watch a movie on television. I stayed up well past midnight to see it.
A Matter of Life and Death does not appear on the lists of great courtroom dramas, but it absolutely should. The final scene is a trial in heaven to determine whether one man should receive more years of life. It is an interesting parallel to most great trial movies where someone’s life may end.
The movie opens with a sweeping shot of the cosmos and then a focused shot of a damaged Lancaster bomber flying over the English Channel on May 2, 1945.2 Royal Air Force Squadron Leader Peter Carter (portrayed by David Niven, who had also served bravely during the war) desperately tries to establish radio contact with someone. June (portrayed by Kim Hunter in her first major role), an American stationed at a base on the coast of England, answers. Peter tells June that there is no hope; his crew has either bailed out or died, and the plane is going to crash. He has no parachute, so he is going to jump rather than die in a fiery crash. Peter accepts his fate and is gallant and brave, quoting poetry and telling June to let his mother and sister know that he loves them. In that moment they fall in love, but Peter must go, and he jumps.
The next scene is set in the “other world.” This other world is never explicitly identified as heaven, but I am just going to call it heaven — although, interestingly, this version of heaven is monochromatic while the earth is in technicolor. Dozens of departed soldiers are shown checking in, which must have been very emotional just after the end of the war.3 One of Peter’s deceased crewmen is waiting for him, but it gets later and later, and Peter has not arrived.
Peter washes up on a beach that he mistakenly believes to be heaven. After a few minutes of confusion, he realizes that he is very much alive and meets June, who is on the road nearby. Meanwhile, heaven is revealed to be a rather rigid bureaucracy, and it sends a soul escort to retrieve Peter immediately. Turns out his assigned escort, Heavenly Conductor 71, a French aristocrat from the 18th century, lost him in_1.jpg?width=348&height=262)
that “ridiculous” English fog.
Twenty hours later, Peter and June are blissfully together in a moonlit garden. When Conductor 71 appears, time stops and only Peter can see him and speak to him. Peter is told he must go, but he makes a brilliant legal argument against complying because “it is the law … and the law is the law.” He adds that “law is based on reason … 20 hours ago I expected to die, and I was ready to die … it’s entirely your fault I didn’t, and now my circumstances have changed; I am in love.” Peter asks for an appeal, and when he is told “it has never been done,” he deftly replies, “Is that any reason it can’t be done now?”
Eventually Peter is allowed an appeal, and a hearing is held in heaven. While preparing his case, Peter is assisted by Conductor 71 and a representative he was allowed to pick from any available soul in heaven (I can’t reveal who represents Peter because it would give away a major plot twist). June is frozen except for a single tear she sheds for Peter. Conductor 71 saves her tear on a rose, which is presented as evidence. The prosecutor, Abraham Farlan (played by the great actor Raymond Massey), was the first American killed in the Revolutionary War. Hating all things British, he is particularly aggrieved that Peter has “bewitched” an American woman from Boston.4
During the hearing, both sides present their evidence and cleverly argue their case in a cosmic amphitheater that serves as the courtroom witnessed by millions of souls. I won’t give away the ending, but it features a legal twist that rivals any cinematic courtroom drama.
I was so excited by the movie that I shared the entire plot with my second-grade class for show and tell. It could have been my telling, but all I got were blank stares from my fellow students and my teacher. I tried to tell my dad about it, but I couldn't get past the part where Peter jumps and lives. “You can’t jump out of a plane and live,” he would half growl and never let me get any further.5
I did not see this movie again for more than 30 years. By that time, I had graduated law school and tried more than 100 cases. I found it in 2006, back when Netflix sent you a DVD rental in the mail. I was excited to see it again, but I was surprised at the flood of memories and emotions that came back to me. During that scene of the hearing in heaven, I paused the movie and said to my wife, “I just realized that this movie is why I became a lawyer.”
My love of trial work — the preparation, the gathering of evidence, and the give and take of argument — can be traced to this movie. Not to mention the search for justice and fairness in the law and our place in the universe. Sir Walter Scott said it well: “Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, and men below, and the saints above, for love is heaven, and heaven is love.”
A Matter of Life and Death is a truly wonderful movie, historically significant and a great story. Its themes are timeless and inspiring. I know what it did for a seven-year-old more than 50 years ago, and its impact has not diminished since.
Robert J. Hildum is an administrative law judge with the D.C. Office of Administrative Hearings.
NOTES
1 Produced by British filmmakers Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, known for the classics Black Narcissus (1947) and The Red Shoes (1948). A Matter of Life and Death placed 20th on the British Film Institute’s list of best 100 British films.
2 Many years later I discovered a very personal connection to May 2, 1945. My father was a B-17 pilot in World War II, and on that day he flew “Operation Chowhound,” a mercy mission to bring food to occupied Holland. My father received a letter of commendation for his “outstanding skill and leadership as a combat pilot” under extreme weather conditions. The letter and a picture of his crew hangs in my office.
3 When the movie was released in the United States, the title was changed to Stairway to Heaven because the American distributor felt that no one wanted to see a movie with “death” in the title. This is also one reason why I didn’t see the movie again for three decades — I was always looking for the American title.
4 Another aspect to this movie is that it also served as propaganda. A popular British aphorism at the time was “the problem with the Americans is that they are overfed, overpaid, oversexed, and over here.” The twist in this movie is that a British pilot gets the American girl. In reality, during the war, it was usually the other way around, much to the chagrin of the British soldiers. The movie was an effort to show that they should and could get along.
5 Actually, it is possible. RAF tail gunner Nicholas Alkemade survived a freefall of 18,000 feet without a parachute on March 24, 1944, returning from a raid on Berlin. His plane was attacked and spiraled out of control. Alkemade’s parachute caught fire during the attack and was useless. He decided to jump, miraculously landing in a fresh, deep snowbank. It is a fair guess that his story was the inspiration for Peter Carter. I am also sure that my dad wouldn’t have listened even if I knew this piece of trivia when I tried to tell him about the movie.
