Review of 1917 (2020)

Review of 1917

A Good Film of the Great War

“I believe that perfection handicaps cinema”

Jean Renoir, director of La Grande Illusion

“The hero is commonly the simplest and obscurest of men ”

Henry David Thoreau

“We are not youth any longer. We don’t want to take the world by storm. We are fleeing from ourselves, from our life. We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces.”

Erich Marie Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front

Sam Mendes’ 1917 was inspired by his grandfather’s experience as a front line soldier in World War I. Artistically this is both the film’s strength and weakness. The emotional bond to the material parallels the storyline. A brother seeking to save his brother from certain peril embarks on a seemingly suicidal mission. The military planners knew no soldier in their right mind would stay the course unless he had his family’s blood on the line. In the end the brass might view the result as favorable, but the brothers’ might see a pyrrhic victory. Artistically the same might be said of Mendes. No doubt the result is impressive, but did the director’s family allegiance blur his vision?

Subverting expectations drives the script which is wholly appropriate for a film about WW I, “the war to end all wars.” Seasoned military leaders thought the fighting would cease in a matter of weeks and deployed cavalry horses. The war ground on for nearly half a decade with trenches of soldiers obliterating each other with newly designed airplanes, tanks, flamethrowers and chemical weapons in a macabre stalemate. Mendes’ heroes, two infantrymen, are tasked with the impossible: a critical trek across enemy lines at the height of conflict to deliver a message to save a battalion of soldiers (1600) entering enemy territory.

Rather than raging machine guns, they are met with eerie silence and a vast apocalyptic landscape of carnage evoking Goya’s prints of dismembered bodies in The Disasters of War. In real life the ferocity of the battle can be illustrated by the present day Zone Rouge. This is a 500 square mile area in France that is STILL uninhabitable due to the munitions used in this conflict. While traversing this end-of-days backdrop the audience experiences the metaphorical landmines of unexpected plot twists just at the moment of repose. Our heroes discover the booby trap in the tunnel before it’s too late, then calamity strikes. They take a respite on a peaceful farm, then the unthinkable occurs. The unconvinced follower morphs into the committed leader. The refugee mother and child, are unrelated. The waters’ calm in the heretofore raging river reveals, a pile of corpses. Nothing is settled. The audience must keenly study the rubble for clues knowing they can never anticipate the reveal.

Kudos to Mendes for meticulous attention to detail. The film creates an endless meandering journey though miles and miles and miles of trenches, mess tents, holding areas, battlefield ruins, abandoned buildings, blown-up infrastructure, sylvan farms, orchards…. All is presented with the smooth glide of cameras that following everything in real time. The entire action is revealed in less than a day with a cast of hundreds of English & German soldiers and civilians caught in the middle. The expertise in World War I is twinned with a knowledge of cinematic history. Mendes applies the technique forged by Hitchcock’s Rope, a virtual one take movie, into the battle arena. There a myriad of references to other war classics such as the trench scenes in All Quiet on the Western Front, the river sequence in An Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge and the singing sequence in Kubrick’s Paths of Glory.Perhaps this last reference best illustrates a shortfall in this otherwise outstanding film.

One of our heroes comes across soldiers in the woods listening to an angelic singer. The troops are about to be led into a disastrous battle and Mendes’ presents a moment of pure innocence. The voice of God temporarily pushes back the gates of hell. Compare this with the closing Kubrick’s masterpiece where a young German girl is dragged up in front of a drunken hall of French soldiers who cat-call her into performing. They are also on the cusp of battle and demand some raucous entertainment. The young women quietly starts to sing, it is barely a whisper. The crowd quiets. The men slowly morph into lonely lost boys. The yearning for bawdy sex is swept away by the sweet soothing melody. It takes the soldiers back to their lives before when they were sons, husbands and brothers. The dogs of war are tamed. There isn’t a dry eye in the house as they quietly prepare to return to hell. Mendes’ song was beautifully rendered and wonderfully portrayed but it was merely tender. We were pulled into the beauty amidst the hell-scape, but never lifted to heaven.

1917, despite its mind-blowing acting, direction and set design, fails to cross the into the sublime. Of course there are searing moments of horror and compassion but the protagonists are chained to the majesty of the moment. Strangely their status is anchored in their goodness. The central characters of other war classics follow the dictates of battle and engage in what civilians would consider immoral behavior. The central figure in All Quiet on the Wester Front kills a soldier in an offensive maneuver with his bare hands. Kubrick’s Col Dax executes the innocents. Renoir’s Rauffenstein kills his beloved French prisoner. Mendes’ heroes never commit the sins of war. The soldier who lies peacefully in the field in the opening and ending sequence of 1917 is more scarred, more experienced, but unsullied. The changes relate to acquisition of wisdom, rather than regrets. He will probably cherish holding this medal, unlike is badge from Verdun. Despite the unworldly, terrifying journey through the 9th circles of hell, his saintliness remains intact. Even after witnessing the death of a beloved friend he never engages in retribution. He is given ample opportunity but he chooses not to kill, even going so far as to avoid shooting an enemy soldier whom he encounters in a dark, barren cityscape. This is admirable and surely speaks to the beloved grandfather whom Mendes rightly honors. Perhaps, from an artistic perspective, a major thematic subversion of expectations was in order. Maybe the protagonists could have exhibited a chink in their moral armor. There are many cowboys with white hats, but people remember the one who wears a mask.

Mendes beautifully illustrates the evil nature of war. His exacting gaze showed us honorable men doing their best in conditions beyond our darkest imaginings. But strangely our heroes are impervious to the temptation in a land that has renounced all semblance of humanity. It is a journey of white knights on a quest. They give comfort to the enemy, endure the contumely of their superiors and even give sustenance to the innocents. It is both electrifying and inspiring, to a fault. It will bring tears in the theater, but maybe not in reflection in the following days. It is an excellent film, but misses greatness. Strangely heroes with less inspiration can be more inspiring. The evil of war isn’t born of devils, but angels who have fallen. The journey was captivating beyond all imagining, but in a worldly manner. We all know that gold doesn’t rust. But war should remind us of the possibility that it can. What if the friend wantonly killed others in revenge? What if cowardliness took hold? What if the brother blamed the friend? Your grandfather would never believe it, but this is when it is important to politely smile and say, “you wouldn’t, but others might.” In truth the elder Mendes might nod with a knowing glance. It took him decades to breach the subject of the physical horror, perhaps others moral decay should stay on the battlefield. The director gives a celebration of righteousness. He does his family proud. But maybe that is only part of the larger story of war. Just look at the faces of the soldiers as they sing along with the German maiden in Paths of Glory. They join and hum as they recognize her as more than the enemy. In Mendes recreation everyone sits in silent adoration. The voice is untouchable, angelic; maybe too much so. Perhaps a soulful visit in the other side must be part of the journey. Heavenly beings deserve our admiration but they shouldn’t mask a disquieting truth: good men can do bad things. Just ask the ghosts in the Zone Rogue.

Review of Knives Out (2020)

Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

“Four Conversations are three too many”

Lillian Hellman, The Little Foxes

“Remember… to tell them… it was only a bloody game”

Milo Tindle, closing lines in Sleuth

The close of the second decade of the 21st century showcases technological dystopia, ecological collapse and global fascist resurgence. Paradoxically this is a perfect time for Knives Out, an old-timey, family who-dunit feature film. It has received critical praise coupled with financial success. Sadly, light comedy requires heavy lifting. The creators didn’t do the work.

Rian Johnson’s Knives Out revolves around the death of a family patriarch, professionally rendered by Christopher Plummer. The character has made his mark as a mystery writer. This plot is akin to the classic 1972 film Sleuth, where another detective novelist delves into a real life murder. Whereas Lawerence Olivier and Micheal Cain battle to the death in a precise, virtuosic display of writing and acting, Plummer is left out in the cold. Knives Out’s script did him in. He was surrounded by a cast of gothic family-horribles that, unintentionally, stumble through a plot that centers around the question of who killed the Paterfamilias. It is reminiscent of the board game Clue, where all moves relate to exposing the murderer within the confines of a house filled with suspects. The 1985 film version of this rainy day staple of my youth was uninspired… even with the multi-endings released in different theaters which highlighted different characters as the villains. The novelty failed to hide the same problem that plagues Knives Out: the hook is confused with the reveal. It is fine to have the goal of discovering the guilty party. However, the real driving force of the narrative is never who, but why. You can lure an audience to the theater by promising to capture the criminal, but it will be an unsatisfying excursion if the bad guy defined, solely, by their deed. The characters become tokens in a game of Clue, rather than real life bad guys.

The bright spot in Knives Out is Jamie Lee Curtis’ performance. This is a hard-bitting, daddy-defender daughter born of the dynamic gothic families of the defeated South. One can see this tough “dame” stepping into classic blood battles such as Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or Hellman’s The Little Foxes. These playwrights were wrestling with issues of the acceptance homosexuality or the price familial loyalty. Their stories went beyond the stated plot device of seeking money and power. Curtis, with every sharp riposte and gesture, shares this attribute of stretching the meaning of her actions. Her anger goes beyond the smallness of criminal mischief and blazes on into the realm of existential purpose. Sadly Johnson uses her sparingly and includes Daniel Craig in nearly every scene. It is difficult to convey the hollowness of his performance. It is as if Johnson’s direction was encapsulated by the instruction: “you are in a regional theater and you need to pretend to be a combination of Atticus Finch and a professional wrestler… now go out there and tear up the scenery”. If the Screen Actors Guild were to issue criminal warrants for crimes against acting this offense would garner the current “most wanted status”. Don Johnson, who plays Lee’s spouse, would join him on the list. Both have, heretofore, delivered solid performances in feature films (Johnson A Boy & His Dog, Craig in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo). One can only assume they matched the laziness of the script with the ennui of phone-it-in caliber work.

The most disturbing character is Marta, the angelic hispanic nurse companion. She is solidly played by Ana De Armas but the performance failed to hide the creative problems. Johnson wanted to give Knives Out a pastiche of social commentary. In keeping with the rest of the script the result is the opposite of what was intended. The film has a solidly progressive bent on the evils of money and the horrors of inequality. Sadly, presenting an updated “noble savage” stock character does little for illustrating the sin of avarice or the real oppression wrought by racism. The film Deathtrap is an example of a feature that incorporates the devilishness of greed in a family murder mystery. The direct action of the film, not the spoken word dialogues, give the audience a parable to ponder, in addition to heartfelt laughs. Marta, on the other hand, is merely a saintly guide amongst nefarious family factions. She and the patriarch are, ostensibly, wearing the metaphorical white hats. Unfortunately there is an opaqueness that surrounds their motivations. (spoiler alert) In the end, when Marta glances down on the family from the veranda, what is she thinking? Retribution? Justice? Comity? Rage?

As this is simply light comedy, what does it really matter? Here lies the heart of the matter. The film goes to extraordinary lengths to delineate the denouement with a careful verbal re-telling of all events that exactingly explain the “ingenious” plot to kill the man in charge. Sadly the human heart is built on emotion, not ingenuity. Clever plot twists can only reveal concrete answers which might help win a game of Clue. They will never make an imprint on the heart. My half century old childhood memories of Sleuth are clear. Ditto for Deathtrap. My impressions of Knives Out seem to fade with every passing hour. No doubt the creators will point to box office and some critical praise. It’s a “hit”, what more can anyone ask? Answer: a taut, funny, interesting comedy that learns the lessons of previous filmmakers who’ve tackled the same material. Audiences should expect more than lazy distraction. All the accolades are a sign of the craving for a reprieve from current events. Maybe boardgames will stage a comeback.