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The Greatest War Movie Ever?
“The
fighting
man
receives
tokens—medals,
ribbons,
badges,
promotions,
combat
pay,
abrogation
of
taxes—worthless
bits
of
nothing,
as
valuable
as
smoke.”
~ Anthony
Swofford,
Jarhead Before
deploying
to We tend to see war movies differently, not only from the perspective of age but also from our current position in life. Civilians see things differently than veterans. Combat veterans see things differently than peacetime servicemen or reservists. Men see things far differently than women, and young men see things differently than old. A movie that may have once been only a wonderfully adventurous war movie to a young man (myself) of sixteen--"The Sand Pebbles"-- becomes far more powerful to an older and wiser man of fifty-five who better recognizes the subtle nuances under-lying that war film.
Later, if one has grown wiser, one recognizes that the greatest war movies are essentially antiwar statements. The Iliad, written some 2,800 years ago, basis for the recent Hollywood film "Troy," was as much an antiwar statement, as much an adventure story, a cautionary tale, as "The Sand Pebbles." Produced during the spread of the Vietnam War, "The Sand Pebbles" was a shot across the bow of the war establishment of the Sixties. McQueen's character, Jake Holman, much like Hector, symbolized the soldier or sailor who had become a pawn of the state. McQeen's performance symbolized the soul-searing experience of millions of warriors before him, drafted, lured, induced or glowingly convinced to go fight a war, any war, the rationale always defined in patriotic terms, usually wrapped in colorful bunting.
And If they survived--these soldiers and sailors, from Hector to Jake Holman--most of them returned home no longer starry-eyed. At least many I've talked with.
“Unfortunately, many of the men who lived through war don’t understand why they were spared—I know that none of the rewards of victory will come my way, because there are no rewards, not on the field of battle, not for the man who fights the battle—the rewards accrue in places like Washington, D.C. and Riyadh and Houston and Manhattan,” wrote Swofford.
You
can
easily
see
the
same
realization
in
McQueen’s
portrayal
of
the
doomed
sailor,
Jake
Holman;
there
were
no
rewards,
not
on
the
field
of
battle
nor
for
those
who
fight
there,
and
that
was
why
the
movie
succeeds
so
well--even
40 years
later. War movies are about the closest most civilians—and most servicemen—will ever get to a war. Hollywood, for all of its failings (and there are many), often succeeds in portraying the facsimile of battle, if not the battle itself or the heart-rending interior carnage. But, God bless them, they do try and often attain a measure of success. What makes a great war movie: Is it the cinematic battle scenes only? If so, then the recent "Lord of the Rings/Two Towers" or "Troy" would undoubtedly qualify. Older veterans, sailors who served aboard ships in the Pacific over 60 years ago, perhaps cannot watch "Midway" without tense, white-knuckle moments. Likewise, Civil War buffs cannot watch "Gods and Generals" or "Glory" without a great deal of sympathy for both Union and Confederate soldiers. And that is the way it should be. How
many
people
saw
"Das
Boot"
(The
Boat),
a stark
portrayal
of
life
aboard
a
German
submarine
during
World
War
II,
and
still
felt
some
sense
of
commiseration
for
the
sailors
of
the
Third
Reich
aboard
that
U-boat,
even
though
the
real sailors
torpedoed
American
ships?
The
terror
of
war
is
shared
equally
by
the
soldiers
of
each
side.
Perhaps
the
sniper
bullet
that
kills
the
enemy
wounds
the
victor
as
much
as
the
victim:
a
mortal
wound
for
the
one
killed,
a
lingering
wound,
unfelt
for
50
years,
for
the
victorious
shooter. Personally,
and
all
artistic
preferences
are
always
personal,
I
tried
to
compile
a
list
of
great
war
movies.
I
apologize
if
I've
overlooked
many.
My
background
is
neither
soldier
nor
civilian
but
simply
an
enlisted
man
who
entered
the
service,
if
not
starry-eyed
then
somewhat
idealistic,
and
exited
open-eyed
and
somewhat
cynical.
An
earlier
essay—Hollywood
Invasion!—listed
three
impressive
movies,
and
I
would
place
one
or
two
on
the
list
somewhere.
Perhaps
"The
Beast",
"Black
Hawk
Down,"
and
"Three
Kings"
wouldn’t
make
most
Oscar
lists—or
even
your
own--but
they
do
possess
more
than
a
little
of
the
uncomfortably,
foul
flavor
of
war,
while
certain
memorable
scenes
remain
in
my
memory.
The
bleakness
of
Afghanistan
(ironically
a
desert
in
Israel),
together
with
the
hollow
existence
of
the
Russian
tank
crew,
and
the
decrepit
condition
of
the
tank
itself
(The
Beast)
seemed
to
symbolize
the
hollowness
of
their
mission,
and
made
the
movie
unforgettable.
Likewise,
"Three
Kings,"
unlike
most
war
movies,
tried
to
show
both
the
savagery
to
civilians
and
the
emotional
and
physical
scarring
that
individual
soldiers
suffered,
even
in
a
war
that
wasn’t
really
a
war.
“A
conflict
is
much
easier
for
the
American
public
to
swallow
than
a
war,”
said
Swofford.
“War still
has
that
messy
Vietnam
feeling—the
Vietnam
War
was
not
an
official
war
either,
but
a
perpetually
escalating
conflict
with
many
poor,
dead,
sad
fuckers.
Conflicts—or
even
better
yet,
a
series
of
operations—sounds
smaller
and
less
complex
and
costly
than
wars.” Before the word "War" is outlawed altogether in Orwellian America—but not war itself—other memorable war movies will emerge. Was "Platoon" a great war movie or a cinematic blasphemy? Half the combat veterans of Vietnam see it one way or the other. Did Vietnam veteran Oliver Stone disgrace his fellow American soldiers by making "Born on the Fourth of July"? Or did each of those unforgettable movies deserve the Oscars they won? Can you hate a movie, hate the violence or the point-of-view, and yet recognize its greatness while still hating it? Was "Apocalypse Now" a greater movie than either? Or how about the unforgettable "Full Metal Jacket" or "The Deer Hunter" (which may be great but I loathe, personally)? "Saving
Private
Ryan"
could
not
even
be
shown
on
Veterans
Day here
in
America.
There
is
something
intrinsically
anti-American
about
that.
Maybe
for
that
reason
alone—that
Spielberg's
graphic
movie
(but
hardly
controversial) made
powerful
people
uncomfortable—it
should
perhaps
be
added
to
most
lists. I
would
add
a
pair
of
black
&
white
movies
to
my
list:
"All
Quiet
On
The
Western
Front,"
and
the
equally
powerful
but
lesser
known
"Paths
of
Glory,"
directed
by
Stanley
Kubrick.
These
two
films
were
made
about
trench
warfare
during
World
War
I,
and
anyone
who
watches
them
cannot
help
but
be
moved
by
the
folly
of
war.
Each
movie
also
employs
singular,
powerful
scenes
that
seem
out
of
place
in
the
film.
The
frightened
singer
in
Paths
of
Glory,
a
young
woman
forced
to
sing
before
battle-hardened
troops
(Kubrick's
daughter
in
a
rare
role),
may
be
one
of
the
most
moving
antiwar
images
caught
on
film. While
it
is
difficult
to
leave
"Stalingrad"
off
my
list,
it
is
even
more
difficult
to
overlook
it.
The
quality
of
greatness
may
be
in
its
feeling
of
utter
hopelessness,
a
quality
of
grimness
that
moviegoers
call
Cinema
Verite,
something
"Enemy
at
the
Gates"
tried
to
emulate.
Few
Americans
know,
or
like
to
admit,
the
great
sacrifice
Russian
soldiers
made
in
World
War
II,
or
the
great
debt
we
in
the
so-called
“free
world”
really
owe
them.
The
only
reason
American
and
British
soldiers
landed
successfully
in
Normandy,
as
any
honest
historian
will
admit,
was
because
most
of
the
best
German
soldiers
had
already
been
killed
or
wounded
on
the
Eastern
Front,
during
epic
battles
like
Stalingrad.
Which is the greatest Civil War movie ever made? Is "Gone with the Wind" a war movie? Was Ted Turner’s "Andersonville" a war movie, however great? How about an overlooked anti-war movie |
