The Proud and Profane

In the fever‑washed islands of New Caledonia, 1943 unfolds as a fragile sanctuary surrounded by the relentless thrum of the Pacific war. The humid air carries the distant echo of distant battles, while makeshift clubs and mess halls become focal points for soldiers yearning for a moment of normalcy. The film’s tone blends the stark urgency of a wartime landscape with the intimate, lingering melancholy of hearts left in limbo, inviting the viewer to feel both the heat of the tropics and the cool pull of longing.

Lee Ashley arrives on the island as a Red Cross volunteer, driven by a quiet determination to honor the memory of her late husband, a Marine lieutenant who fell at Guadalcanal. Though officially tasked with entertaining and supporting the troops, she is drawn into the deeper currents of the base, where every smile and song hints at untold stories. Her poise masks an inner restlessness—a need to understand the circumstances of her loss while navigating the delicate expectations placed upon her by fellow volunteers and the men they serve.

Col. Colin Buck commands a hardened Marine Raider battalion, embodying the rugged confidence and stubborn pride of a soldier hardened by combat. His presence casts a magnetic shadow over the Red Cross enclave, and his initial disdain for the “coddling” of troops soon gives way to a more complex rapport with Lee. Their interactions crackle with tension, as mutual curiosity and concealed vulnerabilities surface beneath a veneer of bravado, suggesting a connection that could bridge the gulf between battlefield grit and civilian yearning.

Around them, figures such as the seasoned volunteer Kate Connors and the protective Eddie Wodcik provide both anchor and contrast, illustrating the varied ways individuals cope with the war’s upheavals. Together, they paint a portrait of a community striving to find moments of tenderness and purpose amid chaos, where love, duty, and the shadows of the past intertwine in a quietly resonant, romantic drama.

Last Updated: December 05, 2025 at 09:28