I Know Where I'm Going

By Holly

Can loving a film be passed down from parent to child, like hair color and insanity? If so, I’ve been a fan of the 1945 British film I Know Where I’m Going since about 6 months before I was born.

My parents used to tell me about how, in the 1950s, they would seek out the film at NYC revival theaters, following it to progressively smaller venues, seeing it as often as possible. In the days before videotape and waaay before streaming, seeing a listing in the TV Guide for a desired movie was akin to finding a 4 leaf clover. And thus I was introduced to the film directed and written by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. As a teenager seeing it for the first time, I found it a little confusing and odd. But it is a movie that not only holds up to repeat viewings, but improves.

A relatively simple story—a determined woman traveling to the remote Hebrides to marry her rich boss is delayed by a gale…just long enough to fall for a charming, penniless Naval officer—is told so beautifully. The adjectives that come to mind are magical, fanciful, romantic, heart warming, lyrical, sexy, otherworldly, life-affirming, imaginative, cinematic.

Powell and Pressburger are the creators of Black Narcissus, The Red Shoes, A Matter of Life and Death (Stairway to Heaven) and could be thought of as the forerunners for directors like Wes Anderson and early Darren Aronofsky.

So, if you’re open and in the mood for a grown-up romance, and wish to be transported to the 1940s and Scotland, in glorious black & white, give the film a try. At the very least, watch the underknown and therefore underrated Roger Livesey. He’s subtle, unique, and has one of the top 10 voices in film.