Monday, February 14, 2005
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
“If they won’t face German bullets, they’ll face French ones!” (Paths of Glory)
I recently had the chance to re-watch a classic Kubrick movie, “Paths of Glory.” The movie centers around WWI, a horrible and tremendously violent period of modern history. The plot concerns a General who is up for an accommodation and promotion, who orders a unit to advance on an impossible goal, in hopes of garnering further favor from his superiors. When the maneuver unavoidably fails (leaving half of the unit dead, and the rest to retreat back into their trenches), he gets caught up in the tidal pools of his own ambition. He orders his own artillery to fire upon the trenches to force his men forward into enemy territory (and likely, death). The mission fails, the men stay put, and the artillery commander refuses the order. To cover up what happened, and to clear his reputation with his superiors, the General orders that men from the unit stand trial for cowardice, and face a firing squad.
One of the more annoying clichés to spew out of Hollywood is that all war movies are essentially anti-war movies. That simply is not so. And the underlying reason this Hollywood myth is incorrect speaks volumes about the American misunderstanding of (and latent lust for) violence.
Take a classic like Kubrick’s “Paths of Glory.” There is a scene where French troops are advancing against all hope across dead-man’s land (the area of land between the trenched of two warring parties). As the explosions occur and the sound of bullets whiz about, you wish with your entire heart that the men make it to safety. Alas, they do not. Many die(needlessly); each death a waste.
Now compare that to the slick action scenes of a modern film like “Windtalkers” or “Pearl Harbor,” pseudo-war films such as “Rambo” or “Navy SEALs,” or the sappy “war is hell” old-school war films such “Battlefield!” or “The Flying Leathernecks.” In those films, there is a certain delight taken in the scenes of battle. War, in these movies, is thrilling. It serves as an easy and titillating way to demonstrate conflict (and conflict is what all stories, war or not, are about). Even the well-done war-time adventure epics, such as “Ice Station Zebra,” “Guns of Navarone,” and “Tora, Tora, Tora” are guilty of glorifying the struggles, lives, and deaths of soldiers at war.
The truth is this; the madness of war is often glorified or trivialized by the Hollywood movie factory. Often, even a true anti-war movie is looked upon as a classic due to the interest in the choreographed action. The appeal of such movies is similar to the appeal of the awful gore-films that draw horror fans, even when they are devoid of plot or any value as cinematic art.
Another Kubrick film, “Full Metal Jacket,” and the hard-to-peg “Apocalypse Now” both serve as examples of this. Both movies have very harsh volleys to level at the culture of violence and warfare. They both expose the horror, uselessness, and insanity of man’s war on fellow man. Yet both are greedily ingested by those who love a good war film. How either film could be seen as “cool” is beyond me. Both are great movies, but not “cool.”
Holywood’s shameless use of war to thrill and provide easy setting for storytelling goes as far back as filmmaking itself. People want to see struggle, they do not want to think, and they way to see clearly marked sides (good vs. evil). From the slaughter of countless American Indians in Westerns, to the dispatching of countless Germans in WWII flicks, we see soldiers in film as props. Occasionally we lament their lost (“why did it have to be Johnny?”), but often even the loss of a developed character is used as another cheap plot element. In lieu of having anything new to say about war, we tell the same stories over and over again. So why do people keep watching war pictures? Because the thrill is in the battle. The thrill is in the ever increasing special effects. The thrill is in the curiosity of death, the horror of seeing the mortality of other men, and the victory that comes with survival.
In real life, soldiers are probably a lot less willing to see themselves used as props to amuse theater-goers. Every life lost in real war is a tragedy, whether it be German, Cherokee, Japanese, French, Soviet, or American. John Steinbeck set out to demonstrate the humanity of all of war’s pawns in his book “The Moon is Down.” The young Nazi soldiers were no different than any others… pawns in a power struggle controlled by puppet-masters locked safely away, far from battle. The book so blurred the lines of good struggling against evil (after all, all Nazi soldiers were soulless, demons… right?), that the book and its movie were unofficially banned. At the least, they were culturally blackballed (as the Dixie Chicks were shortly after 9/11 for sharing views that years later were heard resonating from many mouths in the media).
This is why it is so hard to watch the opening of “Saving Private Ryan,” and similarly hard to watch a piece of crap like “Platoon.” Because the first lays bare the incredible, unavoidable, and senseless loss of battle, while placing real faces, names, and lives to the heaps of flesh and olive drab cloth that litter the beaches and fields. And because the other trivializes the sacrifice and valor shown by those who did fight, and who did fall for causes just and unjust.
Just something to think about before you pick up your next action DVD or first-person shooter video game. War is real men, with real loves, real dreams, real families, and real talents being sent out to kill one another or die. Nothing to be taken lightly, and surely nothing we should take delight in; on-screen or otherwise.
“Colonel Dax, your men died very well.” (Paths of Glory)
Horn's up.
I recently had the chance to re-watch a classic Kubrick movie, “Paths of Glory.” The movie centers around WWI, a horrible and tremendously violent period of modern history. The plot concerns a General who is up for an accommodation and promotion, who orders a unit to advance on an impossible goal, in hopes of garnering further favor from his superiors. When the maneuver unavoidably fails (leaving half of the unit dead, and the rest to retreat back into their trenches), he gets caught up in the tidal pools of his own ambition. He orders his own artillery to fire upon the trenches to force his men forward into enemy territory (and likely, death). The mission fails, the men stay put, and the artillery commander refuses the order. To cover up what happened, and to clear his reputation with his superiors, the General orders that men from the unit stand trial for cowardice, and face a firing squad.
One of the more annoying clichés to spew out of Hollywood is that all war movies are essentially anti-war movies. That simply is not so. And the underlying reason this Hollywood myth is incorrect speaks volumes about the American misunderstanding of (and latent lust for) violence.
Take a classic like Kubrick’s “Paths of Glory.” There is a scene where French troops are advancing against all hope across dead-man’s land (the area of land between the trenched of two warring parties). As the explosions occur and the sound of bullets whiz about, you wish with your entire heart that the men make it to safety. Alas, they do not. Many die(needlessly); each death a waste.
Now compare that to the slick action scenes of a modern film like “Windtalkers” or “Pearl Harbor,” pseudo-war films such as “Rambo” or “Navy SEALs,” or the sappy “war is hell” old-school war films such “Battlefield!” or “The Flying Leathernecks.” In those films, there is a certain delight taken in the scenes of battle. War, in these movies, is thrilling. It serves as an easy and titillating way to demonstrate conflict (and conflict is what all stories, war or not, are about). Even the well-done war-time adventure epics, such as “Ice Station Zebra,” “Guns of Navarone,” and “Tora, Tora, Tora” are guilty of glorifying the struggles, lives, and deaths of soldiers at war.
The truth is this; the madness of war is often glorified or trivialized by the Hollywood movie factory. Often, even a true anti-war movie is looked upon as a classic due to the interest in the choreographed action. The appeal of such movies is similar to the appeal of the awful gore-films that draw horror fans, even when they are devoid of plot or any value as cinematic art.
Another Kubrick film, “Full Metal Jacket,” and the hard-to-peg “Apocalypse Now” both serve as examples of this. Both movies have very harsh volleys to level at the culture of violence and warfare. They both expose the horror, uselessness, and insanity of man’s war on fellow man. Yet both are greedily ingested by those who love a good war film. How either film could be seen as “cool” is beyond me. Both are great movies, but not “cool.”
Holywood’s shameless use of war to thrill and provide easy setting for storytelling goes as far back as filmmaking itself. People want to see struggle, they do not want to think, and they way to see clearly marked sides (good vs. evil). From the slaughter of countless American Indians in Westerns, to the dispatching of countless Germans in WWII flicks, we see soldiers in film as props. Occasionally we lament their lost (“why did it have to be Johnny?”), but often even the loss of a developed character is used as another cheap plot element. In lieu of having anything new to say about war, we tell the same stories over and over again. So why do people keep watching war pictures? Because the thrill is in the battle. The thrill is in the ever increasing special effects. The thrill is in the curiosity of death, the horror of seeing the mortality of other men, and the victory that comes with survival.
In real life, soldiers are probably a lot less willing to see themselves used as props to amuse theater-goers. Every life lost in real war is a tragedy, whether it be German, Cherokee, Japanese, French, Soviet, or American. John Steinbeck set out to demonstrate the humanity of all of war’s pawns in his book “The Moon is Down.” The young Nazi soldiers were no different than any others… pawns in a power struggle controlled by puppet-masters locked safely away, far from battle. The book so blurred the lines of good struggling against evil (after all, all Nazi soldiers were soulless, demons… right?), that the book and its movie were unofficially banned. At the least, they were culturally blackballed (as the Dixie Chicks were shortly after 9/11 for sharing views that years later were heard resonating from many mouths in the media).
This is why it is so hard to watch the opening of “Saving Private Ryan,” and similarly hard to watch a piece of crap like “Platoon.” Because the first lays bare the incredible, unavoidable, and senseless loss of battle, while placing real faces, names, and lives to the heaps of flesh and olive drab cloth that litter the beaches and fields. And because the other trivializes the sacrifice and valor shown by those who did fight, and who did fall for causes just and unjust.
Just something to think about before you pick up your next action DVD or first-person shooter video game. War is real men, with real loves, real dreams, real families, and real talents being sent out to kill one another or die. Nothing to be taken lightly, and surely nothing we should take delight in; on-screen or otherwise.
“Colonel Dax, your men died very well.” (Paths of Glory)
Horn's up.
Comments:
My favorite war movie is the one with Clint Eastwood and the monkey. I've never seen pearl harbor or saving private ryan or windtalkers or whatever bruce willis was in. My war is Ross and Rachel. Dig.
There's a quote commonly attributed to Josef Stalin (although I'm sure he didn't originate it):
"The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic."
And at root, this encapsulates why most creative expressions of war (not just movies) follow a predictable pattern. Zooming in on individual perspectives makes the narrative more relatable, both to the storyteller and the audience.
Telling the story in broad strokes might be more comprehensive, but it becomes detached -- the people in the conflict become less human and more objectified. Granted, this is usually the case in the depiction of the enemy other, but that comes about in terms of narrative balance. Yes, it's the easy way out, but when you're dealing with a mass audience, those are the plot elements that are most effective.
I touched on these themes a while back, if you're interested.
"Paths of Glory" is one of my favorites too.
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"The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic."
And at root, this encapsulates why most creative expressions of war (not just movies) follow a predictable pattern. Zooming in on individual perspectives makes the narrative more relatable, both to the storyteller and the audience.
Telling the story in broad strokes might be more comprehensive, but it becomes detached -- the people in the conflict become less human and more objectified. Granted, this is usually the case in the depiction of the enemy other, but that comes about in terms of narrative balance. Yes, it's the easy way out, but when you're dealing with a mass audience, those are the plot elements that are most effective.
I touched on these themes a while back, if you're interested.
"Paths of Glory" is one of my favorites too.