Fritz Lang’s anti-Nazi film “Man Hunt,” a bittersweet World War II love story, seems removed from the weighty theme of fighting fascism. But it only seems that way. Lang’s opening text sets the context: It is peacetime still, “Somewhere in Germany, shortly before the War.”
British Capt. Alan Thorndike (Walter Pidgeon), used to hunting big game, has gotten within shooting distance of Hitler, in Hitler’s own, allegedly impenetrable, Berchtesgaden refuge. Lying in the bushes, he first playfully aims his precision rifle at Hitler. No bullet in his bolt, his trigger squeeze sounds sterile, ineffectual. He grins, mock-saluting Hitler through his rifle sight.
Then, purposefully, that grin vanishes. Almost as an afterthought, he places a bullet in the bolt and aims again, his finger nursing the trigger just before he’s jumped and captured by a Nazi sentry. Soon Thorndike is tortured (off-screen) by Nazi soldiers on orders from Gestapo senior Maj. Quive-Smith (George Sanders). They hope to force Thorndike into confessing that he'd been ordered by Britain to assassinate Hitler. Never mind that at the point he was overpowered, Thorndike’s gun fired harmlessly into the air.
Quive-Smith imagines that this signed confession by a respected Briton will finally give Germany an excuse to start a war. Thorndike claims, “The sport is in the chase, not the kill.” He was, after all, on a “sporting stalk,” an expedition to prove his huntsmanship. He’s no assassin. A hunter himself, Quive-Smith understands Thorndike’s claims but rejects them.
The trouble is, Thorndike was caught 560 yards from Hitler. That weakens his attempt at laughing it all off. Thrown from a cliff and left for dead in a swamp, he escapes as a stowaway on a ship bound for England. With the Nazi spy Mr. Jones (John Carradine) and the monocled Quive-Smith on his tail to somehow extract that confession, Thorndike the hunter now becomes the hunted. In England, hounded by Nazis in a manhunt across the dark, fog-swept streets of London, Thorndike finds shelter—and love—with kindhearted, gullible Jerry Stokes (Joan Bennett).
Sanders draws on his mixed European ancestry to convincingly deliver some dialogue in German. The beautiful Bennett is believable as wide-eyed Jerry. And Pidgeon is perfect as the Englishman who abhors cruelty and force but is cornered into meeting force with force. Lang uses the innocent romance as a coat hanger to drape a profound message about the perils of pacifism.
Lang’s film explicitly addresses a Britain still reeling from the 1940s Battle of Britain and The Blitz. He likens Thorndike’s pointless rifle routine to Britain’s misguided 1930s appeasement and aloofness that allowed Germany to escape with unprovoked aggression in Europe, well before Britain acted. Less explicitly, Lang addresses America and the free world. Having made America his home in the mid-1930s, he encourages a still-aloof America to pick a side and act.
Romancing the Reich
Here, commoner Jerry represents innocents who deserve to be protected because they can’t protect themselves: men, doing honest work and earning a living for their families; women, bravely bearing and nurturing children; and children, meeting the world with all the trust, hope, and wonder they can muster.Thorndike represents a state, called to act responsibly when other states act irresponsibly. His weapon symbolizes a state’s legitimate armed forces that must come into their own when hostile states threaten to harm their own or neighboring innocents.
Lang’s 1941 film asks: Could timely, if unspectacular, action have prevented World War II in the first place? Can action now, even if a trifle late, check the scale of likely carnage?
Thorndike first sees the arrow as trivial: a tiny metallic hatpin, a trinket tucked into the beret he affectionately buys an insistent Jerry. Watch the climax to find out how Jerry’s ostensibly insignificant little arrow takes on a larger, newer meaning for Thorndike before he takes his precision rifle back into a Germany now at war with the world.
