Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts

Saturday, 28 July 2012

Stalag 17 (1953)

Hilarious, heart-tugging! You'll laugh... you'll cry... you'll cheer William Holden in his great Academy Award role!

This incisive black comic drama by the great Billy Wilder (Double Indemnity - 1944, Sunset Boulevard - 1950, Some Like It Hot - 1959, The Apartment - 1960) is set in Stalag 17, a German prison-of-war camp in the winter of 1943, two years before the end of World War II.

The action opens in one of the prison huts, Barracks Four, little more than two lines of rough bunkbeds. A group of US airmen, all of equal military rank (sergeant), are helping two of their number, Manfredi and Johnson, to attempt an escape, using a tunnel that the men have helped construct under the perimeter fence. Almost as soon as the two escapees have left the hut, one prisoner, Sefton (William Holden), countering the general mood of optimism amongst the prisoners, argues that the escape attempt is unlikely to succeed and challenges the men to back their opinions by betting against him. Outraged (enraged?), most of the prisoners go ahead and place bets in support of the escapees but soon shots are heard and Sefton collects his not inconsiderable winnings.

An idea begins to seed itself through the minds of the prisoners, spreading like a modern viral meme. The Germans knew the exact time and place of the escape so they must somehow have learned details of the actual escape plan. Ruling out other options (uniformed German warders overhearing, mechanical listening devices) would leave only one logical explanation: a spy amongst their ranks, inside this very barrack, a hidden informer pretending to be one of them, feeding the Germans their most precious secrets. As the least popular person in the barrack, and as the person who profited most from the two escapees' deaths, the loaded barrel of guilt begins to turn towards J.J. Sefton.

At the centre of the film, the question of whether or not there is a hidden spy within the barrack, and if that spy is Sefton, creates an inherent tension driving the plot forward, and in its examination of what people are prepared to do to each other when the stakes are high, cleverly licences the film to explore to some very dark places. And in this case, with people's lives very much in the balance (and with a tip of the hat to Filmspotting's Adam Kempenaar, who loves a high stake), the stakes couldn't be much higher. What's more, according to Wikipedia, because of extensive re-writing of the script by Wilder and Blum, and the fact that, contrary to normal practice, the film was shot in chronological order, behind the scenes, even the cast members themselves "did not know the identity of the informant until the last three days of shooting", possibly adding to the tension on screen.

The film is by no means unremitting doom and gloom. Along the way, there are lighter moments. Among the supporting characters, the ongoing comic double act of the two barrack clowns, "Animal" Kasava (Robert Strauss) and Harry "Sugar Lips" Shapiro (Harvey Lembeck), who played the same roles in the stage play on which the film is based, are brilliantly written and impeccably played. Their repartee includes a ritualised, codified rhythmic use of language, developing localised echoic catch phrases, both English and German ("Raus! Raus! Raus!" and "At ease! At ease!", that strongly reminds me of the kind of thing my son, Matthew, and his friends amuse themselves with, riffing endlessly on phrases like "It's nacho cheese, I say it's nacho cheese. It's my cheese, my nacho cheese, bro, not yours, nacho cheese, no way, not your cheese. It's mine, not yours, nacho cheese." Clearly, Kasava and Shapiro's clowning around is not meaningless fun, but on the contrary, the only way they know of coping with the desperate situation they are in.

The cameraderie of Kasava and Shapiro even extends to the German warder, Sergeant Johann Sebastian Schulz (beautifully played by Sig Ruman), with whom at times they are very familiar, not to say dangerously cheeky. How meaningful, how deep, is this prisoner/warder cameraderie? Is Schulz an example of "the good German" of popular legend, subjugated, like the American prisoners, by Nazi cultists in high positions?

Another trope of prison tales, the question of sex (lack of) and enforced periods of same sex internment, is touched on cleverly and subtly. The Hollywood star, Betty Grable, she of the legendary legs, appears as an icon of female desirability. Along the way (without giving away specific plot spoilers), we see men dancing with men, and a distressingly graphic externalisation of desire, probably inspired by a key scene in Charlie Chaplin's The Goldrush (1925).

Turning away from a literal examination of the story to a kind of subtextual interpretation provides an interesting perspective on the United States of America, with the prison-of-war camp standing microscopically for the nation. If each barrack is like a state in the Union, an analogue of federal government support can be seen in the person of Marko the Mailman (William Pierson) who comes round to share bulletins, as well as in the egalitarian practice of time-sharing with the camp's only radio, the only source of outside news and music. There is even a system of sanctions against groups that transgress, by withholding or truncating time with the radio. Provision of a safety net of care for the severely disadvantaged can be seen in the way the character of Joey (Robinson Stone), the catastrophically shell-shocked unfortunate, is looked after by the men in various ways without thought of recompense or personal advantage.

I love the way that, through the conflict between Sefton and the other prisoners, Wilder manages to juxtapose the two key survival strategies available to the imprisoned US sergeants in Barrack Four, and metaphorically, to participants in the socio-political union of the USA itself. Sefton's strategy, essentially individualistic in nature, aims to maximise personal comforts wherever possible, using wealth (in the absence of money, taking the form mainly of cigarettes, the most common currency of barter in the camp) acquired from fellow prisoners via bets and other revenue-accruing activities. This wealth can then be used to gain special privileges from the German overseers, such as turning a blind eye to black market trading, and to gain material advantages such as bottles of alcohol, cigars and good quality food. Of course, acquiring wealth and privilege at the other prisoners' expense does not necessarily bring popularity. Sefton epitomises the selfish face of capitalism, profiteering, cynically exploiting the misfortunes of others for his own benefit. While Sefton is disliked and mistrusted, at the same time, his character provides much of the entertainment and comforts for the rest: speed races with gambling, a liquor bar, a girlie peep show. Could it be that Sefton stands for the entertainment industry, Hollywood, Wilder himself?

As Wilder re-worked the adultery theme of The Seven Year Itch (1955) to great effect in The Apartment (1960), so Stalag 17 (1953) is a second take on the theme of the flip side of the American ideal of rugged individualism: merciless self-interest, initiated in Ace in the Hole (1951), with Sefton a brother in spirit to Kirk Douglas's cynical newspaper hound, ruthlessly exploiting others to advance his own career.

The contrasting strategy, employed by almost all the other men in the barrack, is a kind of cooperative altruism, in its way, a collective socialism, mainly exemplified in their united efforts to support escape attempts and more generally in mutual protection from punishment by their captors, and in care for less abled people in their group. Interestingly, the cooperative approach taken by the majority, which I would imagine most if not all of us will perceive as the best and most moral approach, essentially aligns itself with socialist principles, and exposes the despicable hidden face of unbridled capitalism. This makes Wilder a highly subversive social commentator, causing American cinema-goers in the 1950s to side emotionally with a socio-political stance (socialism) that many would have (misguidedly, I would suggest) hated and feared, and in the main, continue to hate and fear. Respect for this achievement, Mr Wilder. You rock! (I'll bet Michael Moore loves this film, too.)

To conclude, love it or hate it, this is very much a Billy Wilder film: he co-wrote it, directed and produced. As for William Holden, although in other films I have often not really appreciated him, in this film he is really very good, so good that he got a well-deserved Best Actor Oscar.


  • Director: Billy Wilder
  • Writers: Screenplay by Edwin Blum and Billy Wilder, Original theatrical play by Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski
  • Starring: William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Peter Graves, Neville Brand, Harvey Lembeck

Written in WriteRoom, formatted using HyperEdit, posted from my MacBook Pro

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Once upon a time in Nazi occupied France...

A terrific film in almost every aspect: story, characters, script, direction and acting. After the doldrums of Kill Bill 1 (2003) (so disappointing that I couldn't bring myself to see Kill Bill 2, 2004) and the IQ-lowering Death Proof (2007), this is a welcome return by Quentin Tarantino to the kind of brilliance displayed in the earlier work, Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994), that inspired a generation of young film-makers. According to Wikipedia [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inglourious_Basterds], the first draft of the script was written in 1998, before Kill Bill and Death Proof. It seems the script went through some significant changes along the way, so hopefully this current return to form is not limited to projects from his back catalogue but is a pointer to the future.

The story is set in Nazi-occupied France during World War II, in a kind of alternate universe where the fixed historical realities of our world do not apply. The plot essentially centres around an Allied mission to assassinate a number of prominent Nazi government officials at a film premiere. The Basterds of the title are a volunteer group of Nazi-hating American soldiers, headed by First Lieutenant Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), working clandestinely behind enemy lines to instill fear into the hearts and minds of Nazi soldiers through acts of ruthless savagery, consciously creating a word-of-mouth reputation of mythical terror that can strike with impunity, anywhere, anytime. The other characters include French Jews, notably Shosanna (Mélanie Laurent), either in hiding or striving to maintain a false public identity; a magnificently skillful Jew-hunting "national security" SD officer, Colonel Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz); an equally perceptive Gestapo officer, Major Dieter Hellstrom (August Diehl); a British secret agent with fluent German, Lieutenant Archie Hicox (Michael Fassbender); and German film star Bridget von Hammersmark (Diane Kruger).

As well as these principal characters, there are a good number of ordinary German soldiers and civilians. With the premise of the Basterds' mission being that it is fine to kill Nazis, interestingly, these "ordinary" Germans are written and played not as cartoonish caricatures, but as fully realised, rounded, sometimes likeable, even in some cases admirable human beings. I found myself wondering what part if any these people would have played in the atrocities committed by their government. Did they all deserve a grisly fate, or were some just soldiers at war, patriotic as any people at war might be about their country? The mission of the Basterds, to kill all Nazis, seemed harsh to my modern eyes, if the term "Nazi" includes normal German people caught up in a war not of their own making.

The film is a showcase for and a discussion of Hitchcock's famous formula for suspense (Hitchcock/Truffaut, 1985, by François Truffaut, Simon and Schuster, see also Themes and plot devices in the films of Alfred Hitchcock) [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Themes_and_plot_devices_in_the_films_of_Alfred_Hitchcock], in which, as I understand it, explaining how to create suspense, Hitchcock describes a scenario where two people are talking in a room with a bomb under the table. In order to create suspense, Hitchcock explained, the audience needs to know about the bomb. If the audience doesn't know about the bomb, and the bomb goes off, it will be a surprise but nothing more. It is with the knowledge of the existence of bomb, that in the minds of the audience, over time, suspense can be built. In fact, the longer the bomb does not go off, the greater the suspense. In Inglourious Basterds, Tarantino puts metaphorical bombs under a lot of tables, and tells the audience about many of them. As the audience spend time with the participants, the metaphorical bomb under the table raises the level of the stakes (the perceived value of the outcome) for each participant, and correspondingly, ratchets up feelings of suspense.

Amusingly, in one key scene, Tarantino reverses the formula, so that for most of the scene, while the participants know, or suspect, that there's a non-literal bomb under the table, the audience is only later told of its existence, though, from the demeanour of the characters, the audience will rightly suspect that something is amiss but not quite know what. This is more like the Hemingway edict, if memory serves, consciously trialled in the short story "A Clean Well-lighted Place" (1926), where a tragic event is never explicitly stated, that you don't need to explicitly include the main event driving the plot, e.g. the climactic suicide, as its occurrence will be active in more or less subtle ways in other parts of the story, like the invisible parts of the iceberg that hit the Titanic. (For interesting discussion of alternatives to Hitchcock's classic formula for suspense, see "Building a Better Bomb: The Alternatives to Suspense" Peet Gelderblom, 19 October 2008, [http://www.slantmagazine.com/house/?p=2030])

The other edict Tarantino seems to follow (one for which I can't find a reference online, and would welcome one) is that, films being essentially a sequence of scenes, if a filmmaker aims to make a great film, it must include half a dozen or so really great scenes, which Basterds does. Where Tarantino excels, in Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Inglourious Basterds, is in setting up (physically) fairly static scenarios marked by really kick-ass dialogue. The dialogue, in itself, is often concerned with apparently mundane topics, such as pop culture, food and drink, but nevertheless, because of clear conflict of interests and high stakes (such as a figurative bomb under a table which the audience is well aware of), Tarantino's scenarios are full of suspense. One scene in particular in Inglourious Basterds, full of pleasantries about a family's health and the quality of drink on offer, parallels the technique used by Hemingway in the superb short story "The Killers" (1927), where the menace of two gangsters waiting in a restaurant to murder another character is mainly conveyed through the most banal exchanges, largely relating to the availability - or rather lack of availability - of food, but covering a potential for great violence.

The script includes some nice interplay between art and life, where one character, interacting with another character in person and also able to see that character in a fictive role on screen, is undone when the response to the fictive role supersedes that of the real person, fatally attributing the fictive character's motivation to the real person. While watching this film-within-a-film, which seems to be little more than a series of back-to-back killings, appreciated hugely, for the wrong reasons, by the kind of people most of us would not wish to be associated with, I thought it a neat commentary (inadvertent or not) on the poverty of interest of pure action films such as Kill Bill 1, to my mind is more like a test run of action sequences than a fully-fledged storied film. My brother, Rob, however, suggested that this partially glimpsed film sounded more like a Nazi version of the biopic, Sergeant York (1941) [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergeant_York], for which Gary Cooper won a Best Actor Oscar in the title role, which follows a similar plot-line, or alternatively, To Hell and Back (1955) [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_Hell_and_Back_(film)], starring Audie Murphie as himself, another film about a WWII expert marksman who single-handedly takes on a large number of enemy soldiers.

As for the performances, as a director, Tarantino must be doing something very right, as he has assembled a brilliant cast and got fantastic performances by almost everyone. Of particular note are:

  • Christoph Waltz, superb as the character of the charming "national security" officer and rightly received various prestigious awards, including "Best Supporting Actor" Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe, as well as (confusingly), Best Leading Actor at Cannes
  • August Diehl as the Gestapo officer in the beer cellar
  • Michael Fassbinder as a British secret agent
  • Diane Kruger as a German film star
  • Mélanie Laurent as a French Jew
  • Daniel Brühl as a German hero

The only slight question mark in my mind hangs over Brad Pitt's portrayal of First Lieutenant Raine, leader of the Basterds. It's a difficult role, with little shading to it, and he plays it with a good deal of swagger, like an old-fashioned swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks or (American) Errol Flynn, mixed with the ruthlessness of a military Clark Gable or a mercenary Lee Marvin. My reservation is that his portrayal, or at least the camera's representation of his portrayal, does not take us into his thought processes, resulting in a person without depth of feeling beyond the actions required, so it's tricky to judge whether or not he is a trustworthy guide to the rights and wrongs of dealing with Nazis. Is he a good man who has embraced a distasteful but essential duty, or a cheerfully heartless executioner? Trying to think of another actor for the role, Sam Shepherd as Chuck Yeager in The Right Stuff (1983), comes to mind as having the requisite phlegmatic unflappability and toughness and machismo. There's a quiet intelligence behind the eyes there that Pitt doesn't seem to attempt.


  • Director: Quention Tarantino
  • Writer: Quention Tarantino
  • Starring: Brad Pitt, Christoph Waltz, Michael Fassbender, Mélanie Laurent, Diane Kruger, Daniel Brühl, Til Schweiger, Eli Roth

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Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Army of Shadows (L'armée des ombres) (1969)

Jean-Pierre Melville's script, adapted from Joseph Kessel's novel, is extraordinary, providing a sophisticated view of the terribly negative impact on themselves of the necessary actions of the French Resistance fighters during WWII. The film seems very modern in this regard, also in the manner of story-telling, which is extremely oblique as to plot; quite often we don't know who is who, how they relate to each other, or what's going on. We see what's happening, but not the big picture. Presumably, this would have been a common experience for the protagonists, too, as speaking openly of things, or trusting unfamiliar people, would have been dangerous. So, it makes the viewer pay attention to non-verbal cues. Interesting use of first person monologue, shifting between protagonists, adding to mood.

At times the action drags, as tension builds, punctuated with harrowing or explosive scenes of violence, or rather, the build up to violence, and the portrayal of the aftermaths of violence. Melville doesn't dwell on depictions of violence, though violence is the threat running throughout the film. The execution of the first traitorous comrade is extremely harrowing, as Melville puts us there in the house with the executioners, as they work through the unexpected logistical obstacles and show the emotional cost.

Given the soul-destroying actions the Resistance fighters have had to take, the final shot of the Arc d'Triomphe is ironic in the extreme. Was it worth it?

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Amendments: Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.



Sunday, 13 February 2011

Katyn (2007)

Harrowing story about the massacre of the cream of Polish society men by the Soviet forces at the start of WWII. Very effective plot, dividing its time between the captive Polish officers, moving further into jeopardy, and the wives and survivors back in Poland, culminating in the shocking reality of mass execution, with all its logistical issues to be solved.

Great performances by actors new to me. Huge stakes, obviously, it being very much life and death, and also, whether or not to capitulate in the nation-wide cover-up, with tragic loss of life and liberty by unsung heroes and heroines refusing to capitulate.

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Amendments: Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.



Thursday, 10 February 2011

Shenandoah (1965)

Two Mighty Armies Trampled Its Valley... A Fighting Family Challenged Them Both!

Great story and script, set in Virginia near the end of the American Civil War, centred on a family which has managed to remain separate from the conflict. Strong opening, with Stewart's character taking an aggressive stance against involvement.

One wonders about the links to real wars faced by the American people, such as WWII and the war in Vietnam. As US involvement in the Vietnam war had just finished, it is likely that this story was a veiled discussion of US separatism vs. involvement. During the course of the film, some of the horrors and foolishness of war are pretty well illustrated. Despite the comic interludes, there are some harsh moments along the way.

The character of Stewart very interesting, forthrightly opposed to involvement, and more or less atheistic, though respectful of his wife's wishes.

Shame about some of the male cast (apart from the youngest son, Stewart's sons and McClure seem to be stolid but dull (unkindly expressed: beefy fatheads).

Interesting portrayal of women's roles, very traditional in many ways, but offset to a degree by Stewart's daughter's response to the plight of her young brother. Includes rather dated comic interludes with Stewart trying to explain the differences between men and women (or in reality, between himself and his wife) to crass young men.

Amendments: Added writer tag: "James Lee Barrett"; actor tags: "Doug McClure, Glenn Corbett, Patrick Wayne, Rosemary Forsyth, Phillip Alford, Katharine Ross". Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.