war cinema
Despite the insane workload I do love my current situation. The best thing is that I have an excellent excuse to watch movies. The worst part is that I have to watch movies. Particularly war movies. And if you’ve suspected that there are a lot of bad war films out there then I can assure you that this suspicion is correct.
The last one I dragged myself through was The Battle of the Bulge (1965)
I can safely say that there is nothing good about this film. Perhaps I should have expected as much when the only interesting character is played by Charles Bronson. The script is dull, the Ardennes look suspiciously like a Hollywood backplot, Henry Fonda looks like every scene he is in physically hurts him (not that I cannot relate. It hurts me too.) - oh, and the only reason the Germans lost was because they apparently ran out of fuel.To say I hate this film would be to invest it with more emotion than it deserves.
Memphis Belle (1990)
I actually saw this film in its theatrical release, and I remember liking it much more than I do now. It’s still sweet in its way, and there is lots of fun in seeing Sean Astin playing the womanising Rascal, but as a whole the film is so formulaic that even the pieces of dialogue becomes predictable.
Though what is interesting is the cinematography. Memphis Belle is one of the few, more modern WWII films made before Saving Private Ryan, and so the shaky camera, high colour saturation and grainy feel that is the Ryan-template is not present. Instead everything is in glorious colour (not shiny Pearl Harbour colour, but still). To be honest that’s a bit refreshing. Also interesting is a scene where the Colonel (David Strathairn) displays the box of letters from the bereaved families at homefront. As the voiceovers starts to the letters original footage is cut in. Now using original footage in the older black & white films were quite common, but this is one of the few times I’ve seen it used in colour films.
The Thin Red Line
This was more of a rewatch than a watch, but the fact remains that I have something of a love-hate relationship with this film. Whenever I watch it I get irritated, and yet I keep pondering scenes and pieces of dialogue for days afterwards.
There are parts of it that annoys me greatly - the way everything is a bit ahistorical (especially Sean Penn’s haircut), how all the voiceovers sound the same and the cinematographic infatuation with grass (sometimes less is more). And then I haven’t even touched on the whole "peaceful and primitive natives" thing that Malick has going for him.
Still, there are parts of it I find hauntingly beautiful and terrifying. Like the storming of the Japanese field hospital half way through the film. The whole scene is a composition of fog, light, grotesque killings, swelling music and a voiceover that goes:
"This great evil. Where does it come from? How'd it steal into the world?".
In fact, that sequence is so strong it in someway rescues part of the film.
Based on the time of its release The Thin Red Line is often compared with Saving Private Ryan, and if you pick up a book about war films you can usually pinpoint the author’s ideological stand by comparing what he/she says about these two films. Chances are they will love the one, and hate the other. Now I have issues with both and if you’d ask me for a recommendation for a World War II film I’d probably point out Band of Brothers. Yet I find it interesting the way The Thin Red Line and Saving Private Ryan are presented as opposites. The former is usually presented as the more auteur and philosophical, and the latter is seen as nostalgic and a bit anvillicious in its sentiment. Consider for instance this wonderful quote from the film’s producer Geisler:
Malick's Guadalcanal would be a Paradise Lost, an Eden, raped by the green poison, as Terry used to call it, of war. Much of the violence was to be portrayed indirectly. A soldier is shot, but rather than showing a Spielbergian bloody face we see a tree explode, the shredded vegetation, and a gorgeous bird with a broken wing flying out of a tree.
But to be honest I think both films are auteurish and anvillicious in parts. Granted Saving Private Ryan has the whole tag line of "This time the mission is a man" and the quoting of Emmerson and so forth, which is a bit anvillicious. Then again The Thin Red Line quotes the Illiad, and connects this quote with Greek company captain. Interestingly enough this character is Jewish in the book, and I see no real reason to make him Greek except to further underline the Iliad quote and to have Nick Nolte note that they read Homer in Greek at West Point. So yes, both films make it pretty clear that they want to say something profound and epic about war. Personally that just leaves me with a headache.
As for the auteur part then I think, in a way, they are evenly matched. Because if the slaughter of Japanese to the swelling tunes of Hans Zimmer and an all pervasive voiceover can be seen as a auteur, then so can the Omaha beach sequence of Saving Private Ryan. Both scenes leave a lasting impression, and both are striking and haunting.
Perhaps my biggest problem with The Thin Red Line is that I feel it tries to say so much that it becomes too much. Still, I rewatched it last week - and I still catch myself thinking about it. Damn Malick.
The last one I dragged myself through was The Battle of the Bulge (1965)
I can safely say that there is nothing good about this film. Perhaps I should have expected as much when the only interesting character is played by Charles Bronson. The script is dull, the Ardennes look suspiciously like a Hollywood backplot, Henry Fonda looks like every scene he is in physically hurts him (not that I cannot relate. It hurts me too.) - oh, and the only reason the Germans lost was because they apparently ran out of fuel.To say I hate this film would be to invest it with more emotion than it deserves.
Memphis Belle (1990)
I actually saw this film in its theatrical release, and I remember liking it much more than I do now. It’s still sweet in its way, and there is lots of fun in seeing Sean Astin playing the womanising Rascal, but as a whole the film is so formulaic that even the pieces of dialogue becomes predictable.
Though what is interesting is the cinematography. Memphis Belle is one of the few, more modern WWII films made before Saving Private Ryan, and so the shaky camera, high colour saturation and grainy feel that is the Ryan-template is not present. Instead everything is in glorious colour (not shiny Pearl Harbour colour, but still). To be honest that’s a bit refreshing. Also interesting is a scene where the Colonel (David Strathairn) displays the box of letters from the bereaved families at homefront. As the voiceovers starts to the letters original footage is cut in. Now using original footage in the older black & white films were quite common, but this is one of the few times I’ve seen it used in colour films.
The Thin Red Line
This was more of a rewatch than a watch, but the fact remains that I have something of a love-hate relationship with this film. Whenever I watch it I get irritated, and yet I keep pondering scenes and pieces of dialogue for days afterwards.
There are parts of it that annoys me greatly - the way everything is a bit ahistorical (especially Sean Penn’s haircut), how all the voiceovers sound the same and the cinematographic infatuation with grass (sometimes less is more). And then I haven’t even touched on the whole "peaceful and primitive natives" thing that Malick has going for him.
Still, there are parts of it I find hauntingly beautiful and terrifying. Like the storming of the Japanese field hospital half way through the film. The whole scene is a composition of fog, light, grotesque killings, swelling music and a voiceover that goes:
"This great evil. Where does it come from? How'd it steal into the world?".
In fact, that sequence is so strong it in someway rescues part of the film.
Based on the time of its release The Thin Red Line is often compared with Saving Private Ryan, and if you pick up a book about war films you can usually pinpoint the author’s ideological stand by comparing what he/she says about these two films. Chances are they will love the one, and hate the other. Now I have issues with both and if you’d ask me for a recommendation for a World War II film I’d probably point out Band of Brothers. Yet I find it interesting the way The Thin Red Line and Saving Private Ryan are presented as opposites. The former is usually presented as the more auteur and philosophical, and the latter is seen as nostalgic and a bit anvillicious in its sentiment. Consider for instance this wonderful quote from the film’s producer Geisler:
Malick's Guadalcanal would be a Paradise Lost, an Eden, raped by the green poison, as Terry used to call it, of war. Much of the violence was to be portrayed indirectly. A soldier is shot, but rather than showing a Spielbergian bloody face we see a tree explode, the shredded vegetation, and a gorgeous bird with a broken wing flying out of a tree.
But to be honest I think both films are auteurish and anvillicious in parts. Granted Saving Private Ryan has the whole tag line of "This time the mission is a man" and the quoting of Emmerson and so forth, which is a bit anvillicious. Then again The Thin Red Line quotes the Illiad, and connects this quote with Greek company captain. Interestingly enough this character is Jewish in the book, and I see no real reason to make him Greek except to further underline the Iliad quote and to have Nick Nolte note that they read Homer in Greek at West Point. So yes, both films make it pretty clear that they want to say something profound and epic about war. Personally that just leaves me with a headache.
As for the auteur part then I think, in a way, they are evenly matched. Because if the slaughter of Japanese to the swelling tunes of Hans Zimmer and an all pervasive voiceover can be seen as a auteur, then so can the Omaha beach sequence of Saving Private Ryan. Both scenes leave a lasting impression, and both are striking and haunting.
Perhaps my biggest problem with The Thin Red Line is that I feel it tries to say so much that it becomes too much. Still, I rewatched it last week - and I still catch myself thinking about it. Damn Malick.