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100 ­Great

War Movies
100 ­Great
War Movies
The Real History
­behind the Films

ROBERT NIEMI
Copyright © 2018 by ABC-­CLIO, LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a


retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or other­wise, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a
review, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data


Names: Niemi, Robert, author.
Title: 100 great war movies : the real history behind the films / Robert Niemi.
Other titles: Hundred great war movies | One hundred great war movies
Description: Santa Barbara, California : ABC-CLIO, [2018] | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017053745 (print) | LCCN 2018005576 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781440833861 (ebook) | ISBN 9781440833854 (hardcopy : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: War films—History and criticism.
Classification: LCC PN1995.9.W3 (ebook) | LCC PN1995.9.W3 N54 2018 (print) |
DDC 791.43/658—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017053745

ISBN: 978-1-4408-3385-4 (print)


978-1-4408-3386-1 (ebook)

22 21 20 19 18  1 2 3 4 5

This book is also available as an eBook.

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Manufactured in the United States of Amer­i­ca


This one is for Connie, who put up with an MIA husband,
With far too many hours logged at his computer . . .

Also dedicated to the memory of

Alfred A. Niemi, Sr. (1915–2005), 20th Air Force, Guam, Mariana Islands,


World War II

Kenneth A. Niemi (1929–2014), 3rd Ranger Infantry Com­pany (Airborne),


Korean War

They Served Their Country with Honor


Contents

Introduction ix 84 Charlie MoPic [aka 84C MoPic]


(1989) 98
All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) 1 Empire of the Sun (1987) 101
American Sniper (2014) 4 ­Enemy at the Gates (2001) 104
Apocalypse Now (1979) 7 Europa Europa [German title:
Army of Shadows [French: L’armée Hitlerjunge Salomon] (1990) 107
des ombres] (1969) 11 Flags of Our F ­ athers (2006) 111
Attack! (1956) 13 From ­Here to Eternity (1953) 114
Ballad of a Soldier [Rus­sian: Ballada Full Metal Jacket (1987) 119
o soldate] (1959) 17 Fury (2014) 122
­Battle of Algiers, The [Italian: Gallipoli (1981) 126
La battaglia di Algeri] (1966) 19 Gettysburg (1993) 129
Battleground (1949) 23 Glory (1989) 133
Beasts of No Nation (2015) 25 ­Grand Illusion [French: La grande
Beneath Hill 60 (2010) 28 illusion] (1937) 136
Big Red One, The (1980; restored ­Great Escape, The (1963) 140
version, 2004) 30 Guadalcanal Diary (1943) 144
Black Hawk Down (2001) 34 Guns of Navarone, The (1961) 147
Born on the Fourth of July (1989) 36 Hacksaw Ridge (2016) 151
Braveheart (1995) 39 Hamburger Hill (1987) 154
Breaker Morant (1980) 43 Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison
Bridge, The [German: Die Brücke] (1957) 157
(1959) 46 Hell in the Pacific (1968) 159
Bridge on the River Kwai, The (1957) 49 Hope and Glory (1987) 161
Bridge Too Far, A (1977) 54 Hurt Locker, The (2008) 163
Casualties of War (1989) 58 Ice Cold in Alex (1958) 168
Come and See [Rus­sian: Idi i smotri] In Which We Serve (1942) 171
(1985) 61 Ivan’s Childhood [Rus­sian: Ivanovo
Courage U ­ nder Fire (1996) 63 detstvo] (1962) 174
Cross of Iron (1977) 66 Jarhead (2005) 177
Cruel Sea, The (1953) 69 Johnny Got His Gun (1971) 180
Dam Busters, The (1955) 72 Kagemusha [The Shadow Warrior]
Das Boot [The Boat] (1981) 74 (1980) 184
Dawn Patrol, The [aka Flight Kanał (1957) 187
Commander] (1930; remade 1938) 78 Killing Fields, The (1984) 190
Deer Hunter, The (1978) 81 King Rat (1965) 194
Defiance (2008) 86 Land and Freedom [Spanish: Tierra y
Downfall [German: Der Untergang] libertad] (1995) 197
(2004) 88 Last of the Mohicans, The (1992) 200
Dunkirk (2017) 92 Last Samurai, The (2003) 204
viii C o n t e n t s

Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 208 Slaughterhouse-­Five (1972) 287


Letters from Iwo Jima [Japanese: Soldier of Orange [Dutch: Soldaat van
Iōjima kara no tegami] (2006) 214 Oranje] (1977) 291
Lone Survivor (2013) 217 Stalag 17 (1953) 294
Longest Day, The (1962) 221 Sta­lin­grad (1993) 299
Master and Commander: The Far Steel Helmet, The (1951) 302
Side of the World (2003) 226 Story of G.I. Joe, The (1945) 304
Men in War (1957) 229 They ­Were Expendable (1945) 308
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence Thin Red Line, The (1998) 311
[Japanese: Senjō no merī Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo (1944) 315
Kurisumasu] (1983) 231 317th Platoon, The [French: La 317ème
Midnight Clear, A (1992) 234 section] (1965) 318
Paths of Glory (1957) 238 Three Kings (1999) 321
Patton (1970) 241 To Hell and Back (1955) 324
Pianist, The (2002) 247 Twelve ­O’Clock High (1949) 326
Platoon (1986) 250 Walk in the Sun, A (1945) 331
Pork Chop Hill (1959) 255 We ­Were Soldiers (2002) 333
Ran (1985) 258 Winter War, The [Finnish: Talvisota]
Sahara (1943) 262 (1989) 336
Sand Pebbles, The (1966) 265 Zulu (1964) 340
Sands of Iwo Jima (1949) 269
Saving Private Ryan (1998) 271 Bibliography 345
Schindler’s List (1993) 277 Index 357
Sergeant York (1941) 283 About the Author 375
Introduction

The War Film


Even if this w­ ere not an American-­made book by an American writer for a mostly
American readership, the lion’s share of films covered herein would still emanate
from the United States of Amer­i­ca. That’s b ­ ecause the United States has been an
extraordinarily bellicose nation since its inception, at war 222 of its 241 years to
date (92 ­percent of the time). This being the case, American society has always
had an outsized reverence for the force of arms and all ­things military—­regarded
in the popu­lar imagination as the only true and sacrosanct test of au­then­tic mas-
culinity, courage, and patriotism. Accordingly, Americans have an abiding passion
for war films. That’s why we make so many of them and why American war films
consistently rank among the world’s most accomplished and popu­lar films, ethi-
cal and po­liti­cal considerations notwithstanding.
Though always a crowd-­pleaser, the war film genre is an inherently schizoid one.
In an earlier era, war films often functioned as jingoistic propaganda or de facto
recruitment vehicles (­there is a long history of the Department of Defense provid-
ing material support for war films for which it approves). In more recent de­cades
increasingly jaded tastes and po­liti­cal complications have spawned war films that
mostly traffic in the high-­octane machismo of martial glory—­putatively apo­liti­cal
but ideologically suspect upon closer examination. On the other side of the schism
are anti-­war films, which attempt to characterize war more realistically—as, at best,
an unavoidable tragedy in ser­v ice to a good cause (e.g., to end slavery or defeat
fascism) or, at worst, a senseless orgy of death and destruction that only benefits
corrupt ruling elites, war profiteers, and undertakers. And it gets more complicated
still, ­because the divide between the tendency to romanticize or condemn war is
often blurred within each war film, insofar as the cinematic depiction of combat
typically comes off as thrilling entertainment that often amounts to a pornogra-
phy of vio­lence, a tendency famously identified by Francois Truffaut, who wrote:
“It seems to me that war films, even pacifist, even the best, willingly or not, glorify
war. A film that truly shows war, ­battles, almost necessarily exalts war—­unless it
is a m­ atter of parody . . . ​The effective war film is often the one where the action
begins ­after the war, when ­there is nothing but ruins and desolation everywhere . . . ​
War should not be shown as an accepted fact, inevitable, imponderable, but rather
as a h­ uman decision, made by a small group of men . . . ​­After having shown t­ hose
who give the ­orders, one should show t­ hose who receive them, and their reactions
(the ­simple soldiers)” (quoted in French, 2006).
All too often, war films implicitly serve an oppressive social order by making
the worst of ­human evils palatable to impressionable young men “ardent for some
x I n t r o d u c t i o n

desperate glory,” as Wilfred Owen put it. They do so by making mortal combat a
sanitized and fascinating aural-­v isual spectacle, viewed in the comfort and safety
of the Cineplex auditorium or the ­family living room or on one’s iPhone, far removed
from the squalor, stench, terrifying dangers, and agonies of the real ­thing. At the
same time, conventional war films often afford short shrift to the wider context in
which combat occurs. Refusing to address why a war is being fought (and for whose
benefit), many war films are r­ eally narrowly focused survivalist pictures that show
soldiers fighting for one reason and one reason only: to stay alive and to ensure that
their brothers-­in-­arms survive—­a morally unassailable rationale to be sure, but one
that also involves a pernicious kind of po­liti­cal myopia that needs to be interrogated
and called out. (Though well-­made and often gripping, films like Black Hawk Down,
We W­ ere Soldiers, American Sniper, and Lone Survivor are guilty of ideological eva-
sions and historical misrepre­sen­ta­tions that subliminally glorify the business of
war by glorifying the warrior, an equation that is by no means inevitable, or even
logical.)
On the other side of the divide, the greatest war films are always anti-­war films,
especially the ones that emanate from a­ ctual combat veterans who have known
the true face of war and wish to educate the uninitiated to its horrors, for example,
Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front), Humphrey Cobb (Paths of
Glory), Pierre Schoendoerffer (The 317th Platoon), Kurt Vonnegut (Slaughterhouse-­
Five), Lothar-­Günther Buchheim (Das Boot), James Carabatsos (Hamburger Hill), and
Oliver Stone (Platoon), among many ­others. Films based in the real experience of
combat veterans are obviously better able to represent war’s deadly mayhem with-
out making it an exhilarating advertisement for more of the same in real life—­
though no film is immune to grossly distorted viewer reception.
In sum, the war film genre is extremely variegated, rife with contradictions, and
layered with ideological complexities that have been treated in depth in dozens of
academic studies. The aim of this book is more modest: to pres­ent a wide sam-
pling of the best of the genre and to provide sufficient background information
about how the film came into existence and how it relates to the real history it
purports to represent in e­ ither broad or very specific terms—­the two t­ hings that
most often stimulate viewer curiosity.

Se­lection Criteria
Though many se­lections for the greatest war films are obvious (e.g., Lawrence of
Arabia, The Bridge on the River Kwai), no two ­people could ever agree as to the top
100 entries in the war film genre. Tastes vary, as do under­lying ideological biases
and agendas. At any rate, the film list I compiled for this book derives from a life-
time as a film buff, 30 years teaching film at the college level, writing several film
books, taking suggestions from friends and colleagues, and ­doing extensive
research, including a thorough review of the “best of” lists compiled by other film
critics and historians. Readers might find a few of the se­lections herein quirky and
may strenuously object to certain omissions (e.g., Casablanca or Gone with the Wind,
which are essentially war­time romances). All I can say is that I have tried my best
Introduction xi

to produce a book that is broadly representative of the genre in all its variety and
complexity.
As for se­lection criteria, the two main guiding princi­ples established from the
outset is that (1) all the se­lections be full-­length, sound-­era fiction films made
between 1930 and the pres­ent and (2) that each film be widely recognized as a
superior example of the genre, not necessarily in terms of technical quality (though
that’s an impor­tant criteria), but in terms of a meaningful and emotionally com-
pelling narrative. I’ve excluded war-­related tele­v i­sion docudrama mini-­series
(e.g., Steven Spielberg’s Band of ­Brothers) and/or documentaries and documentary
miniseries (e.g., PBS’s Vietnam: A Tele­vi­sion History; Ken Burns’ The Civil War and
his WWII series, The War, ­etc.). Documentaries and miniseries are vital parts of
the cinema on war but they would require their own full-­length studies. On the
other hand, I have defined the war film genre quite broadly. Contained herein are
not just ground combat films but se­lections from other war movie subgenres (e.g.,
POW movies, submarine movies, aviation movies, guerilla war movies, homefront
movies, Holocaust movies, ­etc.) that treat war from a variety of perspectives and
include an array of national cinemas—­mostly United States, but also films from the
United Kingdom, France, Germany, Rus­sia, Japan, Australia, the Netherlands,
Poland, and Finland. More than half of ­these war films deal with the Second World
War—­a skewed list to be sure—­but justifiable ­because WWII was the largest and
bloodiest armed conflict in h ­ uman history. As such, it has spawned the lion’s share
of notable war films.

Format
Each film entry is divided into six parts. The first part, “Synopsis,” provides a cap-
sule description of the film. The second part, “Background,” focuses on the cre-
ative genesis and development of the film. If based in history, a brief outline of the
historical event is also included. Script writing, funding, casting, and other aspects
of the pre-­production pro­cess are also often considered. The third part of the entry,
“Production,” deals with the circumstances surrounding principal photography
(i.e., where, when, and how the film was shot). The “Plot Summary” provides a detailed
plot summary and identifies the main actors and their characters in the film. The
fifth part, “Reception,” provides release dates, box office information, awards, and
an overview of the critical response. The sixth part, “Reel History Versus Real His-
tory,” discusses the film’s degree of historical accuracy in treating the specific mili-
tary event it was based upon, or more generally, the war in which the film is set.

Does Historical Accuracy M ­ atter in War Movies?


Regarding war films that purport to convey real history, the answer is yes, it does
­matter. Historical literacy is abysmal in the United States and almost equally poor
the world over. Most p ­ eople do not read history books; they get what l­ ittle histori-
cal awareness they have through movies and, to a lesser extent, through tele­v i­sion
and the Internet. That being the case, war movies referencing real wars (or firmly
rooted in the history of real ­battles and campaigns) ­w ill be the only means through
xii I n t r o d u c t i o n

which the majority of the populace have any acquaintance with or understanding
of a par­tic­u­lar war or b
­ attle. Playing the dev­il’s advocate, one might well argue that
historically inaccurate war movies are of no g­ reat consequence; lots of p ­ eople
harbor misinformed or just plain wrong historical impressions they got from
movies—so what?
Actually, movies can have considerable sociopo­liti­cal impact in the real world.
Historian Andrew E. Larsen cites the case of Mel Gibson’s Braveheart: a grossly inac-
curate war movie that “has been credited with having a very substantial impact
on Scottish politics in the mid-1990s. It was released in 1995, and two years ­later
Scotland overwhelmingly voted in f­avor of a proposal to establish a Scottish Par-
liament. It has been credited with significantly encouraging Scottish nationalism
and has been accused to encouraging Anglophobia in Scotland. The film’s relent-
lessly negative depiction of the En­glish as vicious rapists is wildly wrong, but very
effective.” Larsen also cites The ­Battle of Kosovo (1989), a Yugo­slav historical drama/
war film filmed in Serbia that depicts the historical ­Battle of Kosovo between
medieval Serbia and the Ottoman Empire, which took place on 15 June 1389.
Larsen notes that Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic used showings of the film
“as way to whip up Serbian support for his brutal treatment of the Kosovar Alba-
nians in the 1990s” (Larsen, 2014). Another example of war movies shaping a
nation’s cultural climate is the raft of Vietnam War films released in the 1970s and
1980s. ­These movies presented a series of competing narratives about the mean-
ing of the war and the character of the U.S. Vietnam veteran as Amer­i­ca strug­gled
mightily to reconcile itself to the war’s b ­ itter legacy. Nagging popu­lar ste­reo­types
about post-­traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)–­deranged Vietnam veterans largely
derive from exaggerated cinematic repre­sen­ta­tions, for example, The Deer Hunter
(1978) or Apocalypse Now (1979).
The historical integrity of war movies does ­matter but begs another question: Is
a high level of historical accuracy ­really pos­si­ble? The answer, most often, is no.
Past events are not only unrepeatable but also, in many ways, unknowable—or at
least subject to lots of subjective interpretation. Any cinematic re-­creation of an
historical event—­whether it be a fictional narrative imposed on a real setting or
an attempt to accurately retell a slice of military history—is inevitably ­going to be
the product of selective analy­sis, guesswork, speculation, and fantasy based on a
complex welter of disparate and often contradictory sources and influenced by the
filmmaker’s biases and po­liti­cal agenda. The other prob­lem facing historical reen-
actment in war movies (or any kind of movie based in history) is that cinematic
narrative requisites are frequently incompatible with historical accuracy. Like all
Hollywood genre movies, war movies generally require a hero or two, a villain or
villains, a few supporting characters, a carefully plotted three-­act narrative arc, a
Manichean moral schema that clearly identifies the good guys (our side) from the
bad guys (usually a faceless and ruthless ­enemy), and a definitive resolution (victory,
defeat, or mere survival). Real ­battles in real wars involve hundreds or even thou-
sands of combatants and do not readily lend themselves to tidy narrative plotting,
easily identified heroes and villains, black and white moral oppositions, or pat
Introduction xiii

endings that tie up loose ends. War movies based in a­ ctual history can offer com-
pelling storylines or they can stay close to the known historical facts; they can
seldom do both—­although ­there are a select few war films that achieve dramatic
impact and an unusually high level of historical accuracy, for example, James Cara-
batsos’ Hamburger Hill (1987), Pekka Parikka’s The Winter War (1989), Roman
Polanski’s The Pianist (2002), and Bernd Eichinger’s Downfall (2004).
\
A
ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT (1930)

Synopsis
All Quiet on the Western Front is an American Pre-­Code anti-­war epic based on the
famous World War I novel by Erich Maria Remarque. Adapted by Maxwell Ander-
son, George Abbott, and Del Andrews and directed by Lewis Milestone, the film
stars Lew Ayres, Louis Wolheim, John Wray, Arnold Lucy, and Ben Alexander. It
recounts the harrowing experiences of a German Army frontline infantry com­
pany during the First World War.

Background
A de­cade ­after the end of World War I former German soldier Erich Maria Remarque
(1898–1970) turned his grueling frontline experiences with the 2nd Guards Reserve
Division at Hem-­Lenglet, France, into Im Westen nichts Neues [Nothing New in the
West]: a searing anti-­war novel first serialized in 1928 in the Berlin-­based liberal
daily newspaper, Vossische Zeitung. Published in book form on 29 January 1929,
Remarque’s novel took the world by storm, selling 2.5 million copies in 22 lan-
guages in its first 18 months in print. ­Little, Brown & Sons published the first U.S.
edition on 1 June 1929 ­under the title, All Quiet on the Western Front. Soon ­after its
U.S. publication, Universal Pictures producer Carl Laemmle purchased the film
rights for $20,000 ($286,000 in 2017 dollars) and put his 21-­year-­old son, Carl
Laemmle,  Jr., in charge of production—­a move met with amused skepticism
throughout the film industry, but Carl Jr. proved equal to the task. He wisely hired
eminent playwrights Maxwell Anderson and George Abbott to adapt the novel to
the screen, former Signal Corps filmmaker Lewis Milestone to direct, and the dis-
tinguished German cinematographer, Arthur Edeson, to shoot the picture.

Production
Filming began on Armistice Day 1929—­exactly 11 years ­after the end of the war
and less than two weeks ­after the stock market crash that precipitated the ­Great
Depression. As the first major epic of the talkie period, All Quiet on the Western Front
proved to be a costly and difficult undertaking involving lots of logistical hurdles.
Shooting occurred at vari­ous locations in southern California. Village scenes w ­ ere
shot at a set built on Universal’s backlot, but most of the filming took place at the
Irvine Ranch, 50 miles southeast of Los Angeles, where trenches and a shell-­pocked
battlefield ­were constructed. To ensure verisimilitude, hundreds of real French and
German uniforms ­were imported from Eu­rope at ­great expense. ­Because American
2 ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT

soldiers w­ ere prohibited from wearing the uniforms of a foreign power, Laemmle
­couldn’t rely on the U.S. Army as a source of extras; he had to scour greater Los
Angeles to recruit some 2,000 of them. All ­were WWI veterans, many of them Ger-
man, but also of vari­ous other nationalities. The shoot was supposed to run for
48 days but ended up taking 99 days, resulting in numerous cost overruns, mostly
for salaries, wardrobe, set construction, and lighting. Originally slated to cost
$891,000, the film came in at $1.4 million, or 39 ­percent, over bud­get; however,
this money was l­ater recouped by brisk box office business.

Plot Summary
The film opens at a gymnasium (boys’ secondary school) in Germany at the out-
break of the First World War in 1914. Professor Kantorek (Arnold Lucy) gives a
bombastic speech about the glory of military ser­v ice and “saving the Fatherland,”
prompting his entire class to enlist. ­After basic training, the new recruits arrive at
the front, but one of them is killed before they can reach their post. On night patrol,
veteran soldier Stanislaus “Kat” Katczinsky (Louis Wolheim) instructs the “school-
boys” to hit the ground to better survive incoming artillery shells. The unit strings
barbed wire and tries to avoid shells. Flares light up the night sky as the e­ nemy
tries to spot them, machine guns rattle, and shelling begins. Behn (Walter Browne
Rogers) is killed by machine-­gun fire. Franz Kemmerich (Ben Alexander) runs out
to retrieve Behn but ­later realizes that he’s been carry­ing a corpse. Back in the bun-
ker, the soldiers play cards and fend off rats. O ­ thers scream and shake uncontrol-
lably, unnerved by the constant shelling. Kemmerich panics, runs out of the trench,
and is badly wounded. Suddenly the shelling ends and the men are ordered out to
man the trenches and repel an e­ nemy attack. Hundreds of French soldiers run
­toward the trenches. Despite heavy losses, the e­ nemy reaches the German trenches,
where hand-­to-­hand combat ensues. Overwhelmed, the Germans retreat to a sec-
ond line of defense and then launch a counterattack that proves unsuccessful. The
men of 2nd Com­pany return from the ­battle and line up for a meal. Ginger, the
cook (William Irving), refuses to feed them u ­ ntil the entire com­pany arrives. The
men explain that they are all that is left of the com­pany—­only 80 of the original
150—­but Ginger remains adamant. Lt. Bertinck (G. Pat Collins) arrives and o­ rders
the cook to feed his men. ­After eating, they hear that they have been ordered to
return to the front the next day. The men speculate about who needs the war more:
the Kaiser or the arms manufacturers. Katczinsky suggests roping off a field and
stripping the kings and their ministers down to their underwear and letting them
fight it out with clubs. Five of the men visit their wounded friend Kemmerich and
find him in poor shape, and Müller (Russell Gleason) informs Kemmerich that his
right leg has been amputated. Kemmerich rues the fact that he w ­ ill never become
a forester, and Paul Bäumer (Lew Ayres) tries to comfort him. Kemmerich asks Paul
to give his boots to Müller, who has asked for them, and then dies. Paul leaves the
dressing station and brings Müller Kemmerich’s boots. Müller is pleased to return
to the front in such fine boots. During a scene in a cemetery, Paul stabs a French
soldier (Raymond Griffith) and is then trapped in a shell crater for the night as the
soldier slowly dies. As the night wears on, Paul attempts in vain to save the sol-
dier’s life. ­After the man dies, Paul weeps and begs forgiveness from the dead body.
ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT 3

A German soldier, Paul Bäumer (Lew Ayers), subdues a French soldier (Raymond
Griffith) in a still from Lewis Milestone’s anti-­war classic, All Quiet on the Western Front
(1930). (Universal Pictures/Photofest)

­ ater, Paul manages to return to the German lines. A


L ­ fter a day off, the soldiers
return to the frontline. Paul sustains serious injuries and is brought to a Catholic
hospital along with his friend Albert Kropp (William Bakewell). Kropp’s leg is sub-
sequently amputated. Paul’s wounds result in a furlough, and Paul returns home.
Oblivious as to the real goings-on at the front, the townspeople are stupidly patri-
otic. Paul visits Kantorek’s classroom and finds the teacher extolling the “glory of
war.” Disgusted, Paul returns to the frontline and learns that only a few members
of the 2nd Com­pany have survived, including Tjaden (Slim Summerville), who
informs Paul that Katczinsky is still alive. Paul searches for Katczinsky and finds
him wounded in the ankle by an aerial bomb. As Paul carries Katczinsky to a field
hospital, a plane drops another bomb, killing Katczinsky. Paul is unaware that his
friend is dead u­ ntil he reaches the field hospital—­a revelation that fills him with
grief. In the final scene, Paul watches a butterfly from his trench on the front-
lines. Paul stretches his arm out t­owards the butterfly and is hit with a bullet
from an e­ nemy sniper. The final shot shows the 2nd Com­pany arriving at the
front, fading out to the image of a cemetery.

Reception
Lavishly praised by critics, a major hit at the box office, and the winner of the
third Best Picture and Best Director Oscars, the film fared less well in Eu­rope and
4 AMERICAN SNIPER

elsewhere due to its anti-­war message. When it premiered at the Mozart Cinema
in Berlin on 5 December 1930 Adolf Hitler’s ­future propaganda minister, Joseph
Goebbels, bought up a block of 300 tickets for Nazi Stormtroopers who proceeded
to ruin the screening by releasing white mice, throwing smoke bombs and sneez-
ing powder, and shouting “Jewish film!” Six days l­ ater, the Weimar chief film cen-
sor caved in to the Nazis and banned the film. ­After Hitler came to power in 1933
the Nazis banned and burned Remarque’s novel and its sequel, Der Weg zurück
[The Road Back] (1931), along with scores of other books deemed subversive and
“un-­German.” N ­ eedless to say, All Quiet was banned in Nazi Germany throughout
the 12-­year lifespan of the Third Reich. It was fi­nally re-­released in West Germany
in April 1952. The film was also banned in Italy, Austria, and France in 1931,
sanctions that would remain in place for many de­cades.

Reel History Versus Real History


Shot in black and white with the primitive sound equipment available in 1929–
1930, All Quiet on the Western Front lacks the sophisticated sound, special effects,
and simulated Technicolor gore that characterizes more recent war films. None-
theless, All Quiet achieves a high degree of accuracy in its depiction of life and death
in the trenches during the First World War. Uniforms, weapons, the look of the
trenches and battlefield, military deportment, combat tactics, and the soldiers’
psy­chol­ogy all ring true, despite a few minor continuity lapses and acting that some-
times tends t­oward exaggeration in facial gestures and body language (a holdover
from ­silent film stylistics). Milestone’s masterpiece remains one of greatest anti-­
war films ever made. Delbert Mann’s 1979 made-­for-­T V version starring Richard
Thomas was also well received.

AMERICAN SNIPER (2014)

Synopsis
American Sniper is an American biopic/war drama directed by Clint Eastwood and
loosely adapted by Jason Hall from American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most
Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History (2012) by Chris Kyle, co-­w ritten with Scott
McEwen and Jim DeFelice. The film recounts the life of Kyle, a sniper credited with
255 kills from four tours of duty in the Iraq War, 160 of which ­were officially con-
firmed. Although Kyle was celebrated for his successes as a combat marksman, his
military ser­v ice took a heavy toll on his personal and ­family life.

Background
Christopher Scott “Chris” Kyle (1974–2013) was a rancher, professional bronco
rodeo rider, and U.S. Navy SEAL from Odessa, Texas. During four tours of duty in
Iraq (2003–2009) Kyle (aka “Legend” and “The Devil of Ramadi”) became the
deadliest combat sniper in U.S. military history with 160 confirmed kills. ­After
10 years in the U.S. Navy, Kyle took his discharge in 2009; moved to Midlothian,
Texas, with his wife, Taya, and two ­children; and co-­founded Craft International,
AMERICAN SNIPER 5

a tactical training com­pany for U.S. military and law enforcement personnel. On
2 January 2012 William Morrow published Kyle’s memoir (co-­w ritten with Scott
McEwen and Jim DeFelice): American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal
Sniper in U.S. Military History, a book that stayed on The New York Times bestseller
list for over nine months. Screenwriter Jason Hall—­who had been working with
Chris Kyle on a Kyle biopic script since March 2010—­successfully pitched the proj­
ect to actor Bradley Cooper. On the strength of Cooper’s involvement, Warner
Bros. teamed with Cooper’s production com­pany to purchase the rights from Chris
Kyle on 24 May 2012. On 2 February 2013, the day a­ fter Hall finished a first draft
of the screenplay, Chris Kyle and a friend named Chad Littlefield set out to take
ex-­M arine Eddie Ray Routh to a shooting range in Glen Rose, Texas, as post-­
traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) therapy. Before they reached the range Routh,
25, shot both men dead in order to steal Kyle’s customized pickup truck. (Routh
was subsequently convicted of the double hom­i­cide and sentenced to life without
parole.) Shortly a­ fter Kyle’s murder Steven Spielberg signed on as director but quit
the proj­ect three months l­ater ­after he and the studio ­couldn’t come to a bud­get
agreement. In September 2013 Clint Eastwood took over as director, and Cooper
began a rigorous, six-­month diet and exercise regimen to transform himself into a
credible likeness of the heavier and more muscled Chris Kyle. He also watched
dozens of hours of home movies that Kyle’s w ­ idow lent him to master Kyle’s
demeanor and body language.

Production
On 14 March 2014, Sienna Miller was cast as Kyle’s wife, Taya. By the end of March
most of the rest of the principal cast had been hired. Principal photography began
on 31 March 2014 in Los Angeles and then relocated to Rabat, northern Morocco,
for 12 days of location shooting. From 23 April to 6 May shooting took place at a
simulated Iraqi village at the Blue Cloud Movie Ranch in Santa Clarita, California.
In the latter half of May domestic scenes ­were shot in Culver City and Los Ange-
les. The 44-­day shoot wrapped on schedule in early June in order to meet the film’s
limited-­release Christmas 2014 deadline. Notorious for being a very fast-­working—­
some would say slapdash—­director, Clint Eastwood kept to his customary six or
fewer takes per shot (usually two or three). Also typical for Eastwood was the mini-
mal amount of time he spent on rehearsal—­a good ­thing in some instances,
­because it can enhance spontaneity in actors, but it can just as easily result in some
shoddy per­for­mances.

Plot Summary
Chris Kyle’s f­ather, Wayne (Ben Reed), teaches the youngster how to shoot a ­r ifle
and also teaches him that the world is composed of wolves (predators), sheep (prey),
and sheepdogs (protectors of the weak) and that the strong and righ­teous assign
themselves to the third category. Years ­later, Kyle is a rodeo cowboy when he watches
a news story about the U.S. embassy bombings (7 August 1998) and immediately
decides to join the U.S. Navy. A
­ fter rigorous training, he becomes a U.S. Navy SEAL
sniper. Kyle meets Taya Renae (Sienna Miller) in a San Diego bar, they marry, and
6 AMERICAN SNIPER

he is sent to Iraq a­ fter the 9/11 attacks. Kyle is a talented sniper, earning the nick-
name “Legend” for his numerous kills. As he hunts for al-­Qaeda leader Abu Musab
al-­Zarqawi, Kyle pays a ­family $100,000 to lead the SEALs to “The Butcher” (Mido
Hamada), al-­Z arqawi’s right-­h and man. Despite careful planning, The Butcher’s
sniper captures and restrains Kyle while The Butcher kills the f­ ather and son who
helped the SEALs. Kyle returns home for the birth of his son, but is preoccupied
with the haunting memories of combat. Taya begs Kyle to put his energy into his
­family, but he soon leaves for a second tour. ­A fter the second tour, Kyle returns
home again, this time to a newborn ­daughter. He is even more alienated from his
loved ones. On his third tour, despite injuries inflicted by a Dragunov sniper
­r ifle, Kyle and his unit choose to continue their mission. On his fourth tour of
duty, Kyle is assigned to take out “Mustafa” (Sammy Sheik), a skilled e­ nemy
sniper killing U.S. Army combat engineers. Perched on a rooftop, Kyle spots
Mustafa and kills him with a shot from his Lapua .388 r­ ifle at a distance of 2,100
yards (1.2 miles), but the shot reveals his team’s position to the ­enemy, and
swarms of armed insurgents attack. Luckily, the team escapes ­under the cover
of a sandstorm, but Kyle sustains an injury and is almost left for dead. Kyle goes
home, but is on edge and incapable of adjusting to civilian life. He copes by
coaching wounded or PTSD-­afflicted veterans at a shooting range. Eventually, he
­settles in to life at home. On 2 February 2013, Kyle brings a veteran to a shooting
range. On-­screen subtitles reveal: “Kyle was killed that day by a veteran he was
trying to help,” followed by archival news footage of thousands of ­people lining
his funeral pro­cession while thousands more are shown attending his memorial
ser­v ice on 11 February  2013 at Cowboys [now known as AT&T] Stadium in
Arlington, Texas.

Reception
American Sniper proved to be a huge hit at the box office. On its opening weekend
(16–18 January 2015) in wide release (3,555 theaters) the film posted more than
$89 million in ticket sales. By the end of its 27-­week run in June it had earned
$547.4 million in worldwide grosses—­almost 11 times its $59 million production
bud­get. As for official accolades, American Sniper garnered six Oscar nominations
and won an Oscar for Best Sound. But American Sniper also ignited fierce debate
among film critics, pundits, bloggers, and the general public as to its merits and
putative meaning. Conservatives heaped praise on the film as a fitting tribute to
Chris Kyle’s combat exploits and as a stirring paean to U.S. military ser­v ice. More
centrist voices judged the film a balanced and poignant rendering of the devastat-
ing effects of war on soldiers and their families. Some critics on the Left denounced
American Sniper as a simple-­minded infomercial for American xenophobia and colo-
nialist militarism and machismo. Perhaps the most astute appraisal, though, was
rendered by journalist Matt Taibbi in a review for Rolling Stone (2015): “The ­really
dangerous part of this film is that it turns into a referendum on the character of a
single soldier. It’s an unwinnable argument in e­ ither direction. We end up talking
about Chris Kyle and his dilemmas, and not about the [Donald] Rumsfelds and
[Dick] Cheneys and other officials up the chain [of command] who put Kyle and
A P O C A LY P S E N O W 7

his high-­powered r­ ifle on rooftops in Iraq and asked him to shoot w ­ omen and
­children. T
­ hey’re the real villains in this movie, but the controversy has mostly
been over just how much of a ‘hero’ Chris Kyle ­really was.”

Reel History Versus Real History


American Sniper depicts Chris Kyle joining the SEALs a­ fter watching TV news cov-
erage of the U.S. embassy bombings in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, and Nairobi,
­Kenya, on 7 August 1998. In point of fact, t­hese events had nothing to do with
Kyle’s enlistment in 1999. The film also shows the United States invading Iraq right
­after the 9/11 attacks in 2001, implying causality between the two events; in real­
ity Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11 (most of the hijackers w ­ ere Saudis). T
­ here
was a sniper known as Mustafa but Kyle never encountered him. The dueling snip-
ers motif was a script ele­ment added by Steven Spielberg that was prob­ably copied
from or inspired by Jean-­Jacques Annaud’s ­Enemy at the Gates (2001). The ter-
rorist depicted as The Butcher might be loosely based on Ismail Hafidh al-­L ami,
known as Abu Deraa (“­Father of the Shield”), blamed for thousands of Iraqi deaths.
Although the film alters Kyle’s book in significant ways, Chris Kyle’s own veracity
has proven to be highly suspect. In 2014 Jesse Ventura sued Kyle’s estate for defama-
tion and was paid $1.84 million in damages. In TV interviews in 2012 Kyle stated
that he assaulted Ventura in a bar in 2006 a­ fter Ventura made negative comments
about the Navy SEALs and their role in Iraq. Ventura has vehemently denied ever
meeting Kyle. Kyle also told a writer that he had gunned down two carjackers in
Dallas in January 2010 but ­there is no police rec­ord of this crime. Kyle also stated
that he and a fellow sniper went to the top of the Superdome in New Orleans a­ fter
Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and shot some 30 civilians he thought ­were looting or
other­wise making trou­ble—­another story that proved to be entirely apocryphal.

A P O C A LY P S E N O W ( 1 9 7 9 )

Synopsis
Apocalypse Now is an American Vietnam War epic directed and produced by Fran-
cis Ford Coppola and co-­w ritten by Coppola and John Milius, with voice-­over
narration written by Vietnam veteran, Michael Herr. Starring Marlon Brando, Mar-
tin Sheen, Robert Duvall, Frederic Forrest, Albert Hall, Sam Bottoms, Larry Fish-
burne, and Dennis Hopper, the film transposes Joseph Conrad’s novella, Heart of
Darkness (1899) to the Vietnam War as it follows Capt. Benjamin L. Willard (Sheen)
on a secret mission to assassinate Col. Kurtz (Brando), a renegade American offi-
cer who has presumably gone insane and formed his own guerilla army.

Background
Filmmaker John Milius tried to volunteer for military ser­v ice during the Vietnam
War but was rejected b ­ ecause of an asthmatic condition. While he was working as
an assistant for Francis Ford Coppola on The Rain ­People (1969), Milius began to
write a script that transposed Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness to the Vietnam
8 A P O C A LY P S E N O W

Martin Sheen as Capt. Benjamin L. Willard (left) and Frederic Forrest as Engineman
3rd Class Jay “Chef” Hicks as they venture into the stronghold of renegade Col. W
­ alter E.
Kurtz (played by Marlon Brando, not pictured) in a scene from Francis Ford Coppola’s
Apocalypse Now (1979). (United Artists/Photofest)

War and used Conrad’s story of a white trader’s mad exploits in Africa as the tem-
plate for an allegory about Amer­i­ca in Vietnam. Milius finished a first draft on 5
December 1969, but the controversial nature of the Vietnam War delayed pro-
duction for several years, during which Milius wrote nine more drafts and
changed the title from “The Psychedelic Soldier” to “Apocalypse Now” (a mock-
ing reference to the hippie slogan, “Nirvana Now”). In the spring of 1974, Cop-
pola undertook pre-­production in earnest. By the latter months of 1975 he had
finished a revised version of Milius’s script. He would continue to revise through-
out the shoot, ultimately using Werner Herzog’s conquistador epic Aguirre, the
Wrath of God (1972) and Michael Herr’s bestselling Vietnam War memoir, Dis-
patches (1977), as additional sources of inspiration. A ­ fter the resounding success
of The Godfather, Parts I (1972) and II (1974), Coppola managed to secure financ-
ing from United Artists and distributors in the amount of $15.5 million—­a mod-
est bud­get for a complex, large-­scale proj­ect. He scouted locations in New Zealand
but fi­n ally opted to shoot the film in the Philippines, where l­ abor was cheap and
President Ferdinand Marcos could be counted on to supply military equipment,
especially he­li­cop­ters.

Production
Apocalypse Now is legendary for having a protracted and chaotic production his-
tory. At the outset, Francis Ford Coppola strug­gled to cast the role of Capt.
A P O C A LY P S E N O W 9

Willard. Robert Redford, Jack Nicholson, Steve McQueen, James Caan, and Al
Pacino all refused the part, prob­ably ­because it involved 14 weeks of location
shooting in fetid Philippine jungles. Harvey Keitel (Mean Streets) accepted the role
of Willard, and production began in March 1976, but just a week into the shoot
Coppola fired Keitel and replaced him with Martin Sheen. Marlon Brando ulti-
mately took on the role of Kurtz—­for the exorbitant fee of $3.5 million for 20 days
work (i.e., $175,000 a day). In late May, about seven weeks into the shoot, Typhoon
Olga destroyed sets and halted production for six weeks while they ­were rebuilt,
putting the movie $2 million over bud­get. When production resumed that sum-
mer, Marlon Brando presented more prob­lems for Coppola when he arrived on set
weighing some 300 pounds and clueless about the role he was supposed to play.
Valuable time was wasted as Brando and Coppola improvised Kurtz’s lines and
Brando’s corpulence forced Coppola to dress him in black and shoot him mostly
in close-up and deep shadow to obscure his bulk. By the end of the year Coppola
had a rough cut of his movie assembled but still needed to improvise an ending.
Filming in the Philippines resumed in February  1977 and continued u ­ ntil 5
March 1977 when Martin Sheen, then in the throes of severe alcoholism, had a
near-­fatal heart attack, which delayed production for another six weeks while he
recuperated. The shoot fi­nally wrapped on 21 May 1977. Coppola’s cinematogra-
pher, Vittorio Storaro, shot an unpre­ce­dented 1.5 million feet of film: 550 hours
of raw footage that was eventually edited down to a film r­unning 153 minutes
(making for an unheard of 216:1 shooting ratio). What was supposed to be accom-
plished in 14 weeks took 14 months and ran $16 million over budget—­more than
double the original projection—­forcing an often-­frantic Coppola to subsidize the
proj­ect with millions of dollars of his own money. Post-­production complications
with editing, sound mixing, and voice-­over narration delayed the movie’s release
­until the Cannes Film Festival on 10 May 1979, more than three years ­after the
start of principal photography and a full de­cade ­after Coppola commissioned
Milius to write the script. During a press conference at Cannes Coppola waxed
grandiloquently: “My film is not about Vietnam. It is Vietnam. The way we made
it is the way Americans w ­ ere in Vietnam. We had too much money, too much
equipment and l­ittle by l­ittle we went insane.”

Plot Summary
The setting is the Vietnam War, c.1969. An opening montage establishes Army
Capt. Benjamin Willard (Martin Sheen) as deeply troubled, likely suffering from
post-­traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). On leave in Saigon, Willard is summoned
to a communications security (COMSEC) intelligence briefing in Nha Trang, where
Gen. Corman (G. D. Spradlin), Col. Lucas (Harrison Ford), and CIA agent R. E.
Moore (Jerry Zeismer) order Willard to terminate Special Forces (“Green Beret”)
Col. Walter E. Kurtz (Marlon Brando) “with extreme prejudice” (Kurtz has become
a dangerous renegade and formed his own Montagnard army inside Cambodia).
­After reluctantly accepting the mission Willard joins a Navy PBR [river patrol boat]
heading upriver, commanded by Chief Petty Officer George Phillips “Chief” (Albert
Hall) and manned by Gunner’s Mates Lance (Sam Bottoms), “Chef” (Frederic For-
rest), and “Mr. Clean” (Laurence Fishburne). They soon rendezvous with Lt. Col.
10 A P O C A LY P S E N O W

Bill Kilgore (Robert Duvall), a macho 1st Cavalry commander and surfing enthu-
siast, who gets them past the Nùng River’s Viet Cong–­held coastal entrance at
“Charlie’s Point” by conducting a he­li­cop­ter raid on the ­enemy village ­there to the
accompaniment of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” on loudspeakers. Further up
the Nùng the PBR stops at a supply depot for diesel fuel and the men watch a night-
time United Ser­v ice Organ­izations (USO) show featuring Playboy bunnies that
quickly dissolves into chaos as lustful soldiers try to get to the showgirls. The PBR
eventually reaches the American-­held Do Lung Bridge at night, which is u ­ nder
­enemy attack. Failing to find the U.S. commander of the bridge outpost in all the
confusion, Willard ­orders Chief to continue upriver. The next day, Willard learns
from a radio dispatch that Capt. Richard M. Colby (Scott Glenn) was sent on an
earlier mission identical to Willard’s but joined Kurtz rather than kill him. Mean-
while, Lance sets off a smoke grenade that inadvertently alerts ­enemy soldiers on
shore, and Mr. Clean is killed in the ensuing firefight. Chief is hit by a spear released
by native tribesmen and tries to kill Willard. Willard finishes him off, and Lance
disposes of Chief’s body in the river. Willard shares his plan with Chef and the
two continue on together. When the PBR arrives at Kurtz’s compound Willard
encounters a manic freelance photojournalist (Dennis Hopper) who praises Kurtz
extravagantly. Returning to the PBR, Willard and Lance soon depart, telling Chef
to initiate an airstrike on Kurtz if the pair fails to return—­a futile safeguard b
­ ecause
Chef is soon decapitated by Kurtz’s men. Willard is captured, caged, and then
brought before Kurtz in a darkened t­emple where he is lectured by Kurtz on war,
life, and the fanat­i­cism of the Viet Cong who cut off the arms of ­children newly
inoculated by the Americans. That night, Willard enters Kurtz’s chamber and
attacks him with a machete. Quoting directly from Heart of Darkness, Kurtz whis-
pers “The horror, the horror” and dies. When Willard leaves the compound, Kurtz’s
minions bow down to him but Willard refuses to supplant Kurtz as their new
demi-­god; he leads Lance to the boat and they depart downriver as the screen
fades to black.

Reception
Apocalypse Now shared the Palme d’Or for Best Film with Volker Schlöndorff’s The
Tin Drum at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival and earned eight Oscar nominations,
winning two (for Best Sound and Best Cinematography). It also did well at the box
office, earning $81.2 million, and received almost universal accolades from film
critics. The American Film Institute (AFI) ranks Apocalypse Now as 30th among
the best 100 films ever made. On the other hand, critics remain divided as to
­whether the movie is pro-­war or anti-­war. For example, Col. Kilgore’s Wagnerian
he­li­cop­ter attack on the ­enemy village comes off as exhilarating, and if Kurtz is
supposed to represent war’s perversion of the ­human spirit, his rendition by Brando
achieves a certain tragic grandeur that seems to undermine the film’s putative anti-­
war message.

Reel History Versus Real History


Apocalypse Now is entirely fictional; none of the events depicted—­including
the  mass dismemberment incident recounted by Kurtz—­actually happened.
A R M Y O F S H A D O W S [ F REN C H : L’ A R M É E D E S O M B R E S ] 11

Capt. Willard and Col. Kurtz are based on the central characters in Conrad’s
Heart of Darkness but Coppola has admitted that Kurtz was also loosely based on
Col. Robert B. Rheault (1925–2013), 5th Special Forces Group, whose 1969 arrest
over the murder of suspected double agent Thai Khac Chuyen in Nha Trang gen-
erated a scandal known as the “Green Beret Affair.” The Nùng [Viet­nam­ese for
“Hot”] River is fictional but seems to correspond to e­ ither the Tonle-­Sap River or
the Mekong River (or its tributary, the Bassac River). ­These are the only rivers that
run though Cambodia into Vietnam before they empty into the South China Sea in
South Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. The Viet Cong–­held village at “Charlie’s Point”
would therefore have to be located in the Delta, an area controlled by Army of the
Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) and U.S. forces, which would preclude its existence
by definition. The U.S. base supply depot at Hau Phat is also fictional, as is the Lo
Dung Bridge. As for the film’s depiction of U.S. military operations in Vietnam,
combat veteran Reginald “Malik” Edwards (Pfc., U.S. Marines) delivered a scath-
ing judgment on the film’s gross historical inaccuracies in Wallace Terry’s Bloods:
An Oral History of the Vietnam War (1984): “Apocalypse Now ­didn’t tell the truth. It
­wasn’t real. I guess it was a ­great ­thing for the country to get off on, but it ­didn’t
remind me of anything I saw. I c­ an’t understand how you would have a bridge lit
up like a Christmas tree. A USO show at night? Guys attacking the ­women on
stage. That made no sense. I never saw us reach a point where no one was in
charge of a unit . . . ​If you d
­ on’t know anything you know the chain of command.
And the he­li­cop­ter attack on the village? F—in’ ridicu­lous. You ­couldn’t hear
­music coming out of a he­li­cop­ter. And attacking a beach in he­li­cop­ters was just
out of the question. The planes and napalm would go in first. Then, the he­li­cop­
ters would be eased in a­ fter the fact . . . ​By making us look insane the ­people who
made that movie [­were] somehow relieving themselves of what they asked us to
do over t­here. But we w ­ ere not insane . . . ​We ­were not ignorant. We knew what
we w­ ere ­doing. I mean, we w ­ ere crazy but it’s built into the culture.” Coppola and
Milius w­ ere well intentioned in trying to characterize the Vietnam War as insan-
ity, but as Edwards rightly notes, the filmmakers erroneously characterize the
combatants themselves—­not their overlords—as epitomizing the geopo­liti­cal
psychosis that was Vietnam: simple-­minded hyperbole that makes for gripping
allegorical cinema but obscures deeper truths regarding American imperialism
and cultural hubris.

A R M Y O F S H A D O W S [ F R E N C H : L’ A R M É E D E S
OMBRES] (1969)

Synopsis
Army of Shadows is a French film directed by Jean-­Pierre Melville that is a cine-
matic adaptation of Joseph Kessel’s 1943 book of the same title, which blends Kes-
sel’s own experiences as a member of the French Re­sis­tance (called the Maquis in
rural areas) with fictionalized material. The film follows a small group of heroic
Re­sis­tance fighters on and between covert hit-­and-­r un missions as they attempt to
evade the capture and likely execution by the Germans.
12 A R M Y O F S H A D O W S [ F REN C H : L’ A R M É E D E S O M B R E S ]

Background
Former Re­sis­tance fighter turned filmmaker Jean-­Pierre Melville (real name: Jean-­
Pierre Grumbach, 1917–1973) read Joseph Kessel’s seminal novel about the French
Re­sis­tance, L’armée des ombres (Charlot, Algiers, 1943), at the time of its publica-
tion and was haunted by its authenticity and evocative power. Twenty-­five years
­later, when Melville fi­nally managed to adapt Kessel’s book to the screen, he cre-
ated a tense, somber noir masterpiece of epic length that is vividly naturalistic, yet
rife with ambiguity and infused with a tragic sense of futility.

Production
Generously bud­geted at 8,175,000 francs, Army of Shadows was filmed at Boulogne
Studios in the Boulogne-­Billancourt district, a Paris suburb, and on location in Nice
and vari­ous other sites in Paris. Shot in color by world-­class cinematographer Pierre
Lhomme, Army of Shadows was brilliantly edited by Françoise Bonnot, who won
an Oscar for her work on Costa-­Gavras’ Z (1969).

Plot Summary
In October 1942 Vichy police arrest Philippe Gerbier (Lino Ventura), a civil engi-
neer and the head of a Re­sis­tance cell. He is imprisoned in a concentration camp
and then moved to Gestapo headquarters at the Hôtel Majestic in Paris for inter-
rogation, where he makes a daring escape by killing a guard. Gerbier travels to
Marseilles where he and three of his men—­Félix Lepercq (Paul Crauchet), Guil-
laume Vermersch, aka “Le Bison” (Christian Barbier), and Claude Ullmann, aka
“Le Masque” (Claude Mann)—­are forced to kill one of their own members, Paul
Dounat (Alain Libolt), for having betrayed Gerbier. The men brutally strangle the
young agent. Thereafter Lepercq recruits an old friend in a bar, a former pi­lot named
Jean-­François Jardie (Jean-­P ierre Cassel). On his initial mission to Paris, Jardie
meets Mathilde (Simone Signoret), a bourgeois h ­ ouse­w ife who is actually one of
Gerbier’s key operatives. Gerbier then travels to the ­Free French headquarters in
London in a British submarine. En route, Gerbier meets Luc Jardie, a leader in the
Resistance—­a fact unknown to his ­brother, Jean-­François. Once in London, Ger-
bier sets up a network of support for the re­sis­tance, but a­ fter discovering that the
Gestapo has taken Lepercq to a Gestapo prison in Leon, he ends his trip and returns
to France. Mathilde forms a plan to save Lepercq and shares it with Jean-­François
Jardie. As a result, Jean-­Francois sends an anonymous letter to the Gestapo turn-
ing himself in to get close to Lepercq. The two become cellmates and sustain
unbearable wounds from torture. Disguised as a German nurse and two Weh-
rmacht soldiers, Mathilde, Le Masque, and Le Bison use forged papers to get Lep-
ercq transferred, but their scheme fails when Lepercq is deemed unfit to be moved.
Jean-­François takes pity on Lepercq and supplies him with his single cyanide pill.
Despite Mathilde begging him to flee to London, Gerbier is captured in a raid and
handed over to the Germans. Mathilde’s team rescues Gerbier at the last moment,
before execution. He then isolates himself in a farm­house in the countryside. Luc
Jardie asks his advice following the arrest of Mathilde, but goes into hiding when
Le Masque and Le Bison arrive. Gerbier o­ rders Mathilde’s execution but Le Bison
AT TA C K ! 13

refuses. Jardie emerges and convinces Le Bison that Mathilde is incapable of sui-
cide; they must kill her. Jardie and his team find Mathilde in Paris and Le Bison
kills her. The film ends with intertitles that confirm the fate of the four main char-
acters. All are e­ ither dead via suicide or eliminated by the Nazis.

Reception
At the time of its initial release in France (12 September 1969), Army of Shadows
did fairly well at the box office, but France’s leading (neo-­Marxist) film journals,
Positif and Cahiers du cinéma, denounced the film as a reactionary Gaullist nostal-
gia piece, an inaccurate characterization and somewhat beside the point, insofar
as de Gaulle had resigned the presidency of France six months earlier, a­ fter a de­cade
in office. Army of Shadows did not see theatrical release in the United States u ­ ntil
37 years ­later. In 1996 Cahiers du cinéma published Le Cinéma selon Melville, a reap-
praisal of Melville’s work by Rui Nogueira that led to a painstaking digital resto-
ration at the Eclair Laboratories in Paris in 2004 by StudioCanal’s Béatrice
Valbin-­Constant u ­ nder the supervision of the film’s original cinematographer,
Pierre Lhomme. Released by Rialto Pictures in 2006, the film won almost univer-
sal critical acclaim in the United States and appeared in many critics’ annual top
10 lists.

Reel History Versus Real History


In Kessel’s novel, much of the action is based on real events, but almost all the
characters in Army of Shadows are composites of real ­people, which was necessary
camouflage, as the war was still raging when the book was published and identi-
ties had to be protected. A faithful adaptation of the novel, Melville’s film also dis-
guises the real persons involved. For example, Luc Jardie is based on Jean Moulin
(1899–1943), a nationally recognized hero of the Re­sis­tance who died at the hands
of the Gestapo. Mathilde, Simone Signoret’s character, is a composite of three real-­
life Re­sis­tance members: Lucie Bernard Aubrac (1912–2007), Dominique Persky
Desanti (1920–2011), and Signoret’s makeup artist, Maud Begon. Apart from t­ hese
devices, Melville’s film captures the aura of isolation, paranoia, and secrecy that is
pervasive in any clandestine war.

AT TA C K ! ( 1 9 5 6 )

Synopsis
Attack! is an American war drama set in Eu­rope during the final months of World
War II. Adapted by James Poe from Norman Brooks’s 1954 play, Fragile Fox, directed
by Robert Aldrich and starring Jack Palance, Eddie Albert, Lee Marvin, William
Smithers, Robert Strauss, Richard Jaeckel, Buddy Ebsen, and Peter van Eyck, the
film recounts the story of a frontline combat unit led by a cowardly captain (Albert)
who clashes with a tougher subordinate (Palance) over the fate of their r­ ifle com­
pany in a combat situation.
14 AT TA C K !

Background
Keen to make a WWII movie, in­de­pen­dent director-­producer Robert Aldrich (Kiss
Me, Deadly) tried but failed to secure the rights for Irwin Shaw’s The Young Lions
(directed by Edward Dmytryk for 20th ­Century Fox in 1958) and Norman Mailer’s
The Naked and the Dead (directed by Raoul Walsh for Warner Bros., also in 1958).
Aldrich did obtain the rights to Norman Brooks’s controversial Broadway play,
Fragile Fox (1954), a work he pronounced “ahead of its time, in terms of being
anti-­war, anti-­military” (Arnold and Miller, 2004). What Aldrich saw as strengths,
the U.S. Department of Defense (DOD) found unacceptable ­after vetting James Poe’s
script, which revolves around a combat unit jeopardized by a cowardly officer dur-
ing the ­Battle of the Bulge. Anxious to uphold American military prestige in the
depths of the Cold War, the DOD refused to loan Aldrich U.S. Army equipment and
soldiers as extras—­and even refused to let him use stock U.S. Signal Corps combat
footage. Frustrated but undaunted, Aldrich bought a tank for $1,000, rented another
one from 20th ­Century Fox, and worked with a small cast of 19 actors (all of them
WWII veterans) to represent a 100-­man com­pany of infantry.

Production
An in­de­pen­dent production that ultimately cost $810,000 (mostly funded by bank
loans but $35,000 in bud­get overruns ­were covered by United Artists), Attack! was
shot in 25 working days (16 January–15 February 1956) at RKO-­Pathé and Uni-
versal Studios, Universal’s “­Little Eu­rope” backlot, and at Albertson (aka Russell)
Ranch in Triunfo, northwest of Los Angeles. The film’s modest bud­get and outlier
status is evident in its shaky production values. The two tanks used in Attack! are
conspicuously poor imitations of German panzers, the combat action is less than
convincing, and aside from some fake snow, the mise-­en-­scène looks suspiciously
warm and dry—­nothing like the Ardennes in the b ­ itter cold, fog, and heavy snow
that prevailed in the winter of 1944–1945. Fortunately, a taut script and fine, though
sometimes strident acting more than compensate for shaky production values. Iron-
ically, Eddie Albert, who plays the cowardly Erskine Cooney, was considered a
true war hero and was awarded the Bronze Star with Combat “V.” During his ten-
ure as pi­lot of a Coast Guard landing craft, Albert saved 47 stranded Marines and
oversaw the rescue of 30 other Marines who w ­ ere enduring ­enemy fire.

Plot Summary
Fragile Fox is a U.S. Army r­ ifle com­pany occupying a town in Belgium near the
frontline in 1944. They are “led” by Capt. Erskine Cooney (Eddie Albert), a con-
niving coward who freezes u ­ nder fire. Cooney’s position is the result of a kind-
ness paid by battalion commander Lt. Col. Clyde Bartlett (Lee Marvin), a longtime
friend of the Cooney f­amily. Cooney’s ineptitude is causing morale prob­lems and
aggravating Platoon Leader Lt. Joe Costa (Jack Palance), a brave and resourceful
combat soldier respected by his men. Cooney’s capable executive officer, Lt. Har-
old Woodruff (William Smithers), strug­gles to keep the peace between Cooney and
Costa while he tries to get Cooney reassigned to a rear echelon desk job. When
the Germans initiate the B
­ attle of the Bulge, Cooney is ordered to take the town of
AT TA C K ! 15

La Nelle. Without knowing the whereabouts of the German soldiers, Cooney refuses
to commit the w ­ hole com­pany to a coordinated attack and ­orders Costa to lead a
reconnaissance probe over open ground. Costa agrees as long as he is promised
reinforcements if his men are fired upon. As they approach La Nelle, a dug-in SS
unit opens fire on Costa’s platoon. With most of his men killed or wounded, Costa
and his fellow survivors seek shelter in a farm­house. Costa calls for reinforcements
but Cooney panics, ignores Woodruff’s pleas, and turns to drink. When panzers
appear, Costa and his men are forced to retreat. Costa tells Woodruff over the radio
to warn Cooney that he’s “coming back!” Costa goes missing, but almost all other
soldiers make it back to base. The men are not afraid to show their dis­plea­sure:
Bern­stein (Robert Strauss) spits at Cooney’s feet and Sgt. Tolliver (Buddy Ebsen)
refuses to drink with him, telling him that where he comes from “We ­don’t drink
with another man u ­ nless we re­spect him.” Woodruff and Cooney are told to hold
their position, but Woodruff threatens to make a formal complaint to Gen. Par-
sons, the col­o­nel’s superior, over Cooney’s poor decisions. A drunken, distraught
Cooney tells Woodruff that his f­ather beat him to “make a man” out of him and
that Bartlett gave him his command as a f­avor to Cooney’s f­ather. At this point
Costa suddenly reappears, determined to exact vengeance on Cooney, but a renewed
German attack sends him back into combat. Costa grabs a bazooka and knocks
out a German tank, only to have his arm flattened by its treads. A handful of men,
including Woodruff, Sgt. Tolliver, and a wounded Pvt. Bern­stein, take refuge in a
basement. Costa suddenly appears, and bleeding profusely from his crushed arm,
falls over and dies before he can kill Cooney. Cooney then suggests that the rest of
the men surrender. When Cooney goes to leave the cellar, Woodruff shoots him
and then insists that Tolliver place him ­under arrest. Instead, they take turns shoot-
ing Cooney to share responsibility. Bartlett arrives with reinforcements and the
Germans retreat; then Woodruff is promoted to captain and given charge of Fox
Com­pany ­after the com­pany claims that Cooney was killed by the ­enemy. Bartlett
voices his plan to nominate Cooney for the Distinguished Ser­v ice Cross, enraging
Woodruff and causing him to accuse Bartlett of corruption. Unfazed, Bartlett
reminds Woodruff that he (Woodruff) has too much to lose if he goes public. Call-
ing his bluff, Woodruff gets on the radio to call General Parsons.

Reception
Scandalized by its subject m ­ atter, the Department of Defense banned Attack!
from U.S. military bases, prompting Rep. Charles Melvin Price (D-­Illinois), a
member of the House Armed Ser­v ices Committee, to charge the DOD with cen-
sorship. The American Veterans Committee, a liberal veterans organ­i zation, also
denounced the military’s “Pollyanna policy.” A month before the film’s national
release Clare Booth Luce, ambassador to Italy (and a staunchly conservative
Republican), caused further controversy when she boycotted that year’s Venice
Film Festival ­because Attack! was one of the films being featured. Her snub was
repudiated by the festival jury, which bestowed the Pasinetti Award on Aldrich’s
film for best foreign entry. Critics and the film-­going public likewise sided with
Robert Aldrich. Attack! opened in major American cities in October  1956 to
16 AT TA C K !

excellent reviews and solid box office returns and recouped its production costs
more than twice over.

Reel History Versus Real History


The movie is fictional but its culminating incident—­the deliberate killing of an
army officer by fellow soldiers—­has lots of historical pre­ce­dent. Mutinous be­hav­
ior is often associated with the Vietnam War (in the course of the war an estimated
1,000 officers and noncommissioned officers (NCOs) w ­ ere “fragged,” resulting in
about 100 deaths and 700 injuries) but such t­hings have, of course, occurred in
all American wars. Before the United States desegregated its military in 1948, muti-
nies ­were most often racially motivated. Anti-­segregation protests by African
American ser­v icemen deemed “mutinies” mostly occurred stateside during World
War II at Dale Mabry Field (Florida), Fort Bragg (North Carolina), Camp Robinson
(Arkansas), Camp Davis (North Carolina), Camp Lee (­Virginia), Fort Dix (New Jer-
sey), Freeman Army Field (Indiana), and other bases. Black soldiers fired on white
soldiers in mutinies at Camp Claiborne (Louisiana) and Brookley Air Force Base
(Alabama), and at least one mutiny occurred in a combat theater. Though it does
not address the most common cause of mutiny during World War II Attack! does
constitute a salutary move away from the knee-­jerk triumphalism of war­time war
films and a healthy break with Cold War ideology by daring to suggest that “The
Good War” ­wasn’t all good and that the military establishment mirrors the injus-
tices of society as a whole—­a theme explored with g­ reat efficacy by Stanley
Kubrick’s WWI-­era Paths of Glory (1957).
B
BALLAD OF A SOLDIER [RUSSIAN: BALLADA O
S O L D AT E ] ( 1 9 5 9 )

Synopsis
Ballad of a Soldier is a Soviet war film directed by Grigori Chukhray and starring
Vladimir Ivashov and Zhanna Prokhorenko. Set during World War II, the film is
about the adventures of Alexei Skvortsov (Ivashov), a 19-­year-­old Red Army sol-
dier who travels home from the front on a six-­day leave to re­unite with his ­mother
and repair the roof of their homestead—­his reward for knocking out two Nazi
panzers.

Background
Drafted into the Soviet Army in 1939, Grigor Chukhray (1921–2001) initially
served as a signalman with the 134th ­R ifle Division. Soon ­after Nazi Germany
invaded the USSR in the summer of 1941, Chukhray volunteered to join an air-
borne unit. Thereafter he participated in numerous b ­ attles, including the defense
of Sta­lin­grad. He was wounded four times, much decorated, and eventually pro-
moted to lieutenant. A­ fter the war, Chukhray studied filmmaking at the All-­Union
State Institute of Cinematography (now known as the Gerasimov Institute) in Mos-
cow; joined the state studio, Mosfilm, in 1955; and made The Forty-­First (1956), a
well-­received film adaptation of Boris Lavrenyov’s 1926 anti-­Stalinist novel.
Chukhray then drew on his own war experiences to co-­write (with Valentin Yezhov)
and direct Ballad of a Soldier, his moving tribute to the estimated 8.7 million Soviet
soldiers killed in World War II.

Production
Chukhray originally wanted to make a film about the B ­ attle of Sta­lin­grad but he
was unable to secure funding and the army’s help, so he sought to make Ballad of
a Soldier instead. When he presented his script to Alexander S. Federov, head of
production at the Cinematography Council, for state approval in 1957, Chukhray
met with a cool reception. The screenplay centered on the six-­day leave of a young
soldier who goes home to repair the roof on the ­family homestead before return-
ing to the front. Federov found the story “trifling” and advised Chukhray not to
produce the film. Soon thereafter, Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev delivered a
series of nationalistic speeches (collected and published on 28 August 1957 as
For Close Ties between Lit­er­a­ture and Art and the Life of the P­ eople). In the words of
Chukhray himself, Khrushchev urged Soviet artists to make accessible patriotic
18 B A L L A D A O S O L D AT E [ RUSS I A N : B A L L A D A O S O L D AT E ]

art reflecting “the con­temporary relevance and beauty of Rus­sia.” Though the Arts
Council found Ballad of a Soldier insufficiently patriotic, it allowed Chukhray to
proceed with the film’s production, “but without much enthusiasm” and on a slim
bud­get. Following the lead of the cultural commissars, camerawoman Era Saveleyev
or­ga­nized members of the crew in refusing to work on the film b ­ ecause it contra-
dicted Khrushchev’s vaunted “socialist realism.” Unfazed, Chukhray replaced
Saveleyev with Vladimir Nikolayev, hired a new crew, and proceeded to make the
film, which starred two young, unknown actors in the lead roles.

Plot Summary
A peasant w ­ oman wanders through her village and glances down a dirt road while
a voice-­over informs viewers that the w ­ oman’s son was killed during the war and
buried far from his home. Cut to the battlefront as a scared 19-­year-­old private
named Alexei Nikolayevich Skvortsov (Vladimir Ivashov) singlehandedly knocks
out two German panzers with a PTRS-41 anti-­tank ­r ifle. His commanding gen-
eral (Nikolay Kryuchkov) tries to award him a medal, but Alyosha requests a visit
to his m­ other and their homestead, which is in need of repairs. Alyosha is allowed
a six-­day reprieve and journeys home: a trip that reveals to him the utter devasta-
tion caused by the war. When Alyosha tries to gain passage on an army supply
train, he is stopped by Gavrilkin (Alexandr Kuznetsov), a sentry. Alyosha bribes
Gavrilkin with a can of beef and is allowed to board the freight car. A young ­woman
named Shura (Zhanna Prokhorenko) sneaks on to the train as well, but the sight
of Alyosha terrifies her and Alyosha has to stop her from trying to jump off the
speeding train. She eventually reveals that she is heading to visit her fiancé, a pi­lot
who has been hospitalized. Soon Shura loses her fear and warms up to Alyosha,
but Gavrilkin discovers her, initiating another bribe from Alyosha. Surprisingly,
when the lieutenant (Yevgeny Teterin) becomes aware of the stowaways, he allows
them to remain on the train and even goes so far as to force Gavrilkin to return
his bribe. At one stop, when Alyosha disembarks for ­water, the train moves on with-
out him on board. A female trucker (Valentina Telegrina) gives him a ­r ide to the
next station, but he arrives to find that he has already missed the train. However,
Shura is at the station, waiting for him. A ­ fter completing an errand for a friend,
Shura and Alyosha part ways. During their goodbyes, Shura reveals that she has
been lying—­she has no other man to visit. As his train pulls away, Alyosha real-
ized that Shura’s confession was one of love. His train is then halted by a bombed
bridge and subsequently attacked by German Stuka dive-­bombers. In desperation,
Alyosha takes a raft across the river and hitches a ­r ide home to his village of Sos-
novka. Alyosha is only able to visit with his dear ­mother for a few moments before
he has to return to the frontlines. His ­mother is determined to wait for him to return
once again. A voice-­over confirms that although he had potential, Alyosha ­w ill
always be remembered, simply, as a Rus­sian soldier and nothing more.

Reception
Vladimir Surin, director-­general of Mosfilm, ­didn’t like Ballad of a Soldier ­because
it depicted the Soviet Army without the usual heroic solemnity, showed a ­woman
­B AT T L E O F A L G I E R S , T H E [ I TA L I A N : L A B AT TA G L I A D I A L G E R I ] 19

being unfaithful to her husband, and most egregiously, killed off its hero: narra-
tive sins that would have been met with opprobrium by Hollywood as well. Influ-
ential film director Sergei Gerasimov also panned the film in Pravda, though he
­hadn’t seen it. Written off as a failed effort, Ballad of a Soldier was released, but not
in large cities; exhibition was confined to farmers’ collectives and workers’ clubs
in the countryside. Then something unexpected happened. Alexei Adzhubei, Prav-
da’s editor-­in-­chief (and Khrushchev’s son-­in-­law), administered a nationwide
questionnaire asking “Which recent film have you liked best?” From all over the
hinterlands the surprising answer was Ballad of a Soldier. The film’s popularity with
ordinary folk prompted an official reassessment. Gerasimov fi­nally saw the film
and praised it extravagantly. Khrushchev was also shown the film, liked it, and
ordered that it be entered into competition at the 1960 Cannes Film Festival, where
it won a special prize for its “high humanism and outstanding quality.” Released
in the West, Ballad of a Soldier went on to receive Oscar and BAFTA nominations
and the praise of New York film critics for its evocation of genuine emotion and its
gentle lyricism.

Reel History Versus Real History


Grigory Chukhray drew on his own extensive experiences in the war to make Bal-
lad of a Soldier an inarguably au­then­tic rendition of life at and ­behind the front-
lines. The film’s aura of authenticity is only marred by the obviously phony-­looking
air attack on the train near the movie’s end that was the best Chukhray could do
on the paltry production bud­get he was allotted. He requested supplementary funds
to reshoot the scene but was turned down on the grounds that the film would prob­
ably not be successful anyway.

­ AT T L E O F A L G I E R S , T H E [ I TA L I A N :
B
L A B AT TA G L I A D I A L G E R I ] ( 1 9 6 6 )

Synopsis
The B­ attle of Algiers is an Italian-­Algerian war film co-­written and directed by Gillo
Pontecorvo and starring Jean Martin and Saadi Yacef. Shot in mock cinema vérité
style on location in Algiers and scored by Ennio Morricone, the film recounts the
so-­called B ­ attle of Algiers during the Algerian War (1954–1962) of in­de­pen­dence
against the French colonialist government in North Africa.

Background
Though it ended in military stalemate, the Algerian War of In­de­pen­dence (1954–
1962) resulted in po­liti­cal victory for Algeria’s nationalist movement, Front de
Libération Nationale (FLN); a­ fter 132 years of French colonial rule, Algeria became
a sovereign nation on 2 July 1962. Earlier that year Italian film director Gillo Pon-
tecorvo and screenwriter Franco Solinas, equipped with fake journalists’ creden-
tials, traveled to Algiers to meet with FLN leaders and do research for a film on
the war. Solinas subsequently wrote “Parà”: a script developed with Paul Newman
20 B AT T L E O F A L G I E R S , T H E [ I TA L I A N : L A B AT TA G L I A D I A L G E R I ]

in mind about a former French paratrooper covering the conflict as a journalist


who grows disillusioned with his country’s brutal counterinsurgency tactics. Two
years ­later Salah Baazi, an FLN official, met with Pontecorvo and Solinas in Italy
to further pursue their Algerian War film proj­ect. Baazi subsequently rejected “Parà”
as not sufficiently centered on the Algerian p ­ eople and countered with a script by
Saadi Yacef, a former FLN military commander, based on Yacef’s own book (Sou-
venirs de la Bataille d’Alger [Memories of the ­Battle of Algiers] 1962) that details a year-­
long episode in the war known as the “­Battle of Algiers” (1957–1958). Pontecorvo
found Yacef’s script “sickeningly propagandistic” so he and Solinas set out to write
an entirely new screenplay, closely based on true events but striving for a more
even-­h anded treatment that avoided partisan extremes in ­either the French or
Algerian direction. The Algerians subsidized six months of research and location
scouting in Algiers, during which Pontecorvo and Solinas interviewed hundreds
of eyewitnesses. They also visited Paris, studied documents and newsreels, and
interviewed French army veterans who had served in Algiers. Five major revisions
of the script ­were produced before both sides ­were satisfied. By 1965 Pontecorvo
had forged a co-­production deal between Casbah Films, an Algerian com­pany co-­
owned by Yacef and the state, and Igor Film, an Italian firm owned by Antonio
Musu, Pontecorvo’s production man­ag­er on his previous film, Kapò (1960).

Production
Influenced by Italian neorealism, Pontecorvo and his cinematographer, Marcello
Gatti, took pains to mimic the raw immediacy of newsreel and Direct Cinema doc-
umentaries. Using techniques already perfected during the shooting of his previous
film, Kapò (1960), they shot in black and white, with 16-mm handheld cameras, in
natu­ral light. To simulate the look of newsreel footage shot hastily in uncontrolled
conditions—­a high level of graininess and image contrast—­Gatti and Pontecorvo
made new negatives from the positive images. They then made new, rougher posi-
tive prints from ­those that ­were then blown up to 35 mm. As for actors, Pontecorvo
mostly cast Algerian Arabs or Kabyles (a Berber ethnic group native to Kabylia in
northern Algeria) who had no professional acting experience. The only profes-
sional actor in the film was Jean Martin, who played Col. Mathieu. A French actor
who had worked mostly in theater, Martin had fought with the Maquis in World
War II and had been a paratrooper during the Indochina War, military credentials
that lent his per­for­mance a high degree of authenticity.

Plot Summary
The film opens in Algiers in 1957. A group of French troops have completed a round
of torture during their interrogation of an Algerian prisoner. The interrogation has
proved successful, and the troops travel to an address given up by the tortured
Algerian. One of the four key leaders of the FLN and his fellow crew members are
masked by a fake wall. Col. Mathieu (Jean Martin) demands that the leader, Ali la
Pointe, emerge from his hiding place, as he is the only one of the leaders still alive.
Next we see a flashback to Algiers in 1954; the National Liberation Front (FLN)
calls its members to take arms and fight for in­de­pen­dence. Ali la Pointe, aka Ali
­B AT T L E O F A L G I E R S , T H E [ I TA L I A N : L A B AT TA G L I A D I A L G E R I ] 21

Omar (Brahim Haggiag), a petty criminal with a lengthy rec­ord, is arrested. Five
months l­ater, la Pointe leaves prison and joins the b ­ attle for in­de­pen­dence. The
FLN tasks him with an assassination assignment: to kill a French cop obtaining
information about the FLN from an Algerian in­for­mant. La Pointe is armed with
a gun at the last moment, but attempting to fire the weapon he finds that nothing
happens. In a panic, la Pointe takes down the police officer and flees the scene.
Returning to the FLN, la Pointe angrily asks why he was set up to fail. Djafar (Yacef
Saadi) reveals that this is a hazing ritual for new recruits to confirm that they ­w ill
actually fire a weapon when ordered to and remain loyal to the FLN. The FLN, led
in part by la Pointe, spends the next several months exercising its power; banning
alcohol, drugs, and prostitution, attacking police stations; bombing French civil-
ians; and inciting an or­ga­nized retaliation effort by French officials. By 10 Janu-
ary 1957, French troops enter Algiers with the aim of wiping out the FLN. Jean
Charrot serves as inspector general and organizes the ­battle against FLN opera-
tives while General Carelle maintains order in Algiers. Lt. Col. Philippe Matthieu
is ordered to lead the daily offensives against the FLN. Matthieu’s plan is straight-
forward: ebb the flow of FLN attacks by apprehending FLN members, torturing
them for names, and then using each bit of information gathered to create a full
orga­nizational chart. Once they determine the hierarchy, then their troops can
move to kill the FLN leaders. A few weeks ­later, a general strike occurs in Algiers.
La Point is informed that t­ hose striking would incur the wrath of the French, who
­were looking to round up agitators. Four days into the strike, French soldiers begin
capturing, torturing, and interrogating Algerians suspected of involvement with
the FLN. As a result, the orga­nizational chart begins to take shape. By February,
Matthieu has zeroed in on the four main leaders of the movement: Si Murad, Ramel,
Jaffar, and Ali La Pointe. He commands that the four men be apprehended and
jailed. Jaffar, hearing of the French plans to round up FNL leadership, suggests
that he and his fellow leaders split up. Several factions of their movement are dead
or out of contact, so they are forced to build up the fourth section and make plans
to reor­ga­nize. The FLN continue to wreak havoc, detonating a bomb at a race track
and leaving numerous French civilians dead or wounded. By March, French report-
ers demand answers from a now-­captive Mr. Ben M’Hidi. The reporters also ques-
tion Col. Matthieu regarding his torture techniques employed in Algiers. The
col­o­nel, trying to save face, lies and says that they are not torturing the Algerians,
despite the fact that French soldiers are using w ­ ater torture, electric shocks, and
blow torch burns to the skin and are hanging hog-­tied p ­ eople upside-­down. The
Algerians respond with drive-by shootings of French civilians on the street. In late
summer, Ramel and Si Murad are apprehended, and by early fall, French forces
corner Jaffar and blow up a building in order to finalize his death. La Pointe, now
the final FNL leader still alive, joins with a few other FNL supporters to or­ga­nize
the bombing of several French locations. The flashback ends and brings viewers
back to the pres­ent. Col­o­nel Matthieu and his squadron order la Pointe and his
supporters to abandon their hiding place. The group refuses to yield their posi-
tion, and the French forces begin to set up explosive devices. La Pointe is given a
final chance to surrender, but he w ­ ill not turn himself in. As a result, the French
22 B AT T L E O F A L G I E R S , T H E [ I TA L I A N : L A B AT TA G L I A D I A L G E R I ]

bombs are set off and the building housing la Pointe is brought to the ground. La
Pointe and his followers are all killed. This vio­lence is followed by two years of
peace in Algiers, ­until more fighting breaks out in the mountains in winter of 1960.
21 December 1960 marks the final day of demonstrations, and by July 1962, ­after
two more years of strug­gle, the Algerian nation is born.

Reception
The B ­ attle of Algiers had its premiere at the Venice Film Festival on 31 August 1966
(where it won the Golden Lion) and its premiere in Algiers on 27 October 1966. It
was first screened in the Unites States on 20 September 1967. The film was ini-
tially banned in France as “incendiary”; it w ­ asn’t shown u ­ ntil October 1970 and
­wasn’t screened in Spain ­until 1978, three years a­ fter Francisco Franco’s death. A
restored version was released in Italy in April 1999, and then extended versions
­were released in Hong Kong (May 2000) and in the UK (December 2003). The ­Battle
of Algiers was re-­released in the United States on 9 January 2004 and screened at
the Cannes Film Festival, 15 May 2004. For its 50th anniversary, a digitally restored
version was screened at the Venice Film Festival, then at the Toronto and New York
film festivals. T
­ here are no accurate rec­ords of lifetime box office proceeds, but they
have been modest.

Reel History Versus Real History


Historians are in general agreement that The B ­ attle of Algiers is true to history in
the chronology and most of its particulars of the events it depicts. One commenta-
tor, British historian-­screenwriter Alex von Tunzelmann, calls the film “a master-
piece of historical accuracy” and notes that the principal characters are all based
on real ­people (though some are composites). Tunzelmann also observes that the
“film’s inclusion of female and underage militants, while apparently shocking to
many viewers, is accurate. If anything, ­women like Zohra Drif, Samia Lakhdari,
Djamila Bouhired and Hassiba Ben Bouali played a more significant role than the
film allows them” (von Tunzelmann, 2009). British journalist Martin Evans offers
a dissenting opinion. He begins by pointing out that calling the conflict in Algiers
a “­battle” is a misnomer: “This was not urban warfare on a g­ rand scale like Sta­lin­
grad in 1942 or even the Irish Easter uprising of 1916. ­There was no sustained
street-­to-­street combat. Rather the confrontation took the form of short bursts of
fighting at close quarters, interspersed with the bombing of civilians on the FLN
side and mass round-­ups and torture on the French side.” Although Evans con-
cedes that “much of the film’s narrative follows the facts in a brutally honest man-
ner,” he charges that it “also diverges from the facts” and elides “the role of the
Algerian Communists, who supplied the bomb making expertise to the FLN, or
the rival MNA [Mouvement National Algérien/Algerian P ­ eople’s Party], still an
impor­tant po­liti­cal force in early 1957. Equally, the ­bitter divisions within the FLN
are ignored, as in the case of Abbane Ramdane who is absent as an historical fig-
ure. Instead Pontecorvo pres­ents the war uniquely in terms of the FLN against the
French paratroopers” (Evans, 2012).
B AT T L E G R O U N D 23

B AT T L E G R O U N D ( 1 9 4 9 )

Synopsis
Scripted by WWII combat veteran Robert Pirosh; directed by William Well-
man; and starring Van Johnson, John Hodiak, James Whitmore, Ricardo Montal-
bán, and George Murphy, Battleground is an American war film about a com­pany
of the 327th Glider Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, surrounded by
German forces and holding out at Bastogne during the B ­ attle of the Bulge in
World War II.

Background
Robert Pirosh (1910–1989), Hollywood writer and producer and, l­ater, creator of
the popu­lar 1960s Combat! TV series, was uniquely qualified to make Battleground,
a film about the Siege of Bastogne (20–27 December 1944) during the ­Battle of the
Bulge. Pirosh served in World War II as a master sergeant with the 35th Infantry
Division, saw action in the Ardennes and Rhineland campaigns, and was awarded
a Bronze Star. During the ­Battle of the Bulge Pirosh led a patrol into Bastogne to
help relieve surrounded American forces t­ here. A ­ fter the war he used material from
his war­time journal to develop a screenplay that presented Bastogne from the infan-
tryman’s point of view, but he had to wait a few years before the war (film)-­weary
public was ready for a postwar combat film. Battleground became an RKO property
in 1947 but was shelved by studio owner Howard Hughes, a decision that caused
production head Dore Schary to resign. When Schary went to MGM, he purchased
the rights to the script from RKO, over the objections of Louis B. Mayer, who
believed that the public was tired of war films. MGM signed Robert Taylor, Keenan
Wynn, and John Hodiak, and the proj­ect was bud­geted at $2 million. Twenty veter-
ans of the 101st ­were hired to train the actors and to appear in the film as extras. Lt.
Col. Harry Kinnard, deputy divisional commander of the 101st at Bastogne, was
hired on as the film’s technical advisor. Director William Wellman put the cast
through two weeks of military training, but Robert Taylor, a former navy officer,
dropped out, and Van Johnson replaced him.

Production
Battleground was shot in 44 days between 5 April and 3 June 1949 at several sets:
a replica of Bastogne, refashioned from an Italian village set built on a United Art-
ists (UA) studio backlot for The Story of G.I. Joe (1944); a faux pine forest in the
Ardennes, built on a UA sound stage using 528 real trees; and on location in north-
ern California, Oregon, and at Fort Lewis, near Tacoma, Washington, which was
used for the tank sequence showing the relief of the 101st Airborne by Patton’s
Third Army. Shooting went faster than anticipated, taking 20 fewer days than
planned. This time savings was in part due to Schary’s creative filming methods—
he often pro­cessed film right a­ fter it was shot, then had scenes cut together so that
they ­were available for preview two days ­after being shot. The film came in almost
$100,000 ­under bud­get.
24 B AT T L E G R O U N D

Plot Summary
In December 1944, new replacements Jim Layton (Marshall Thompson) and Wil-
liam  J. Hooper (Scotty Beckett) are dispensed to dif­fer­ent companies in the
327th Glider Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division. Holley (Van Johnson)
returns to his unit a­ fter recovering from an injury. The squadron is set to go on
leave, but is instead sent to the frontlines to fight off German forces in the Ardennes
Forest. A­ fter stopping for a night in Bastogne, Belgium, Sgt. Kinnie (James Whit-
more) ­orders his men to s­ ettle in at multiple locations at the town borders. While
guarding a roadblock during the night, Holley, Layton, and “Kipp” Kippton (Doug-
las Fowley) are surprised by German soldiers who are dressed as American G.I.s.
The German soldiers blow up a bridge. A snowstorm greets the squad the next
morning. Roderigues (Ricardo Montalbán) delights in the snow, though a fellow
soldier, “Pop” Stazak (George Murphy), remains unfazed. Layton discovers that his
friend Hooper has been killed by German mortar rounds, and Kinnie sounds the
alarm about the German infiltration. A patrol heads out—­Holley, Roderigues, and
Jarvess (John Hodiak)—to comb through the woods, but before they get far, the
Germans attack and the platoon panics. Bettis (Richard Jaeckel) runs for cover,
Holley’s patrol ­battles against the infiltrators, and Roderigues is injured in the fire-
fight, left unable to walk. Holley tries to hide Roderigues beneath a jeep while the
men continue to ward off the German fire, but Roderigues freezes to death before
his platoon can retrieve him. Two soldiers are sent off to a field hospital, and Hol-
ley is named the new squadron leader along with Layton. Pop Stazak is grouped
with Hansan (Herbert Anderson). The squadron discovers, by reading Stars and
Stripes, that theirs is a “heroic stand,” and Kippton confirms that the 101st is fully
surrounded. The 3rd Platoon falls victim to an attack at first light, and as they are
overwhelmed, Hansan sustains an injury and Holley flees the scene in panic. ­After
facing his embarrassment at being cowardly in front of his inferiors, Holley coun-
terattacks. L ­ ater, while on guard duty, the squad meets a group of German sol-
diers who have arrived beneath a “flag of truce” to pres­ent terms of surrender to
Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe. McAuliffe shocks and confuses the Germans
with his famous reply, “Nuts!” Foggy weather grounds Allied transport aircraft,
and the squad is short of supplies. That night, Luftwaffe planes bomb Bastogne
and Denise is killed. The “walking wounded,” Hansan included, are summoned to
the frontlines in a last-­ditch effort to defend the town. Bettis lets fear get the better
of him and delays his return, dooming himself to the cruel fate of a bomb destroy-
ing the h ­ ouse he is staying in. The fog fi­nally lifts, and Allied fighters attack the
Germans, enabling the 101st to hold. When the siege lifts, Kinnie leads the suc-
cessful survivors t­ oward a well-­deserved respite from the lines. The film ends with
a group of fresh troops marching in to replace t­ hose ­going on leave, with the war
veterans chanting the refrain from “Jody” as they leave the battleground.

Reception
Battleground went into general domestic release on 20 January 1950—­just five years
­after the events it depicted. Contrary to Louis B. Mayer’s dour predictions, the movie
made a healthy profit and won an Oscar nomination for Best Picture. Critical notices
B E A S T S O F N O N AT I O N 25

­ ere mixed but mostly positive. Bosley Crowther praised Battleground as “a smash-
w
ing pictorial re-­creation of the way that this last [war was] for the dirty and fright-
ened foot-­soldier who got caught in a filthy deal. H ­ ere is the unadorned image of
the misery, the agony, the grief and the still irrepressible humor and dauntless
mockery of the American GI” (Crowther, 1949). On the other hand, John McCarten
found the movie “constantly reiterating the idiosyncrasies of its characters,” a ten-
dency that rendered the film “pretty monotonous” in McCarten’s view, but he also
noted that “­there are plenty of rousing b­ attle scenes” (McCarten, 1949).

Reel History Versus Real History


Although the film is a fictionalized and very narrowly focused version of the siege
of Bastogne, it is highly accurate with one major exception. T ­ here w
­ ere no Ger-
mans disguised as American soldiers around Bastogne. Unternehmen Greif (Opera-
tion Griffin), as it was designated, only operated in front of the 6th SS Panzer Army
at the start of the German offensive, many miles to the north. Another minor but
deliberate inaccuracy: the 327th Glider Infantry Regiment did not have an Item
Com­pany (glider regiments consisted of two battalions, with each battalion hav-
ing four companies, A-­D and E-­H). The film’s producers created a fictitious unit to
allow for artistic license and not have veterans object to inaccuracies.

B E A S T S O F N O N AT I O N ( 2 0 1 5 )

Synopsis
Beasts of No Nation is an American war drama written, co-­produced, and directed
by Cary Joji Fukunaga (who also acted as the film’s cinematographer). Based on
the 2005 novel of the same title by Uzodinma Iweala, the film—­shot in Ghana
and starring Idris Elba, Abraham Attah, Ama K. Abebrese, Grace Nortey, David
Dontoh, and Opeyemi Fagbohungbe—is about a young boy who becomes a child
soldier in a genocidal war wracking his unnamed country in West Africa.

Background
While he was an undergraduate at UCal Santa Cruz in the late 1990s filmmaker
Cary Joji Fukunaga (True Detective) began studying the plight of child soldiers
involved in civil wars in Africa in an effort to develop a film script on the subject.
­After six years of research, including a solo trip to Sierra Leone in 2003, Fukunaga
discovered Uzodinma Iweala’s novel, Beasts of No Nation (2005) and realized he had
found the story vehicle for which he had been searching. Focus Features optioned
the rights to Iweala’s book for Fukunaga in early 2006, and he wrote the first
draft of a screen adaptation t­ oward the end of that year, using Joseph Campbell’s
12 Stages of The Hero’s Journey as his narrative template (an approach advocated in
a widely circulated development memo by Christopher Vogler, subsequently turned
into a book entitled The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure For Writers, 2007). Eight
years would pass before Fukunaga had the time and money to turn his script into
a film. Funding was put together from vari­ous sources: Red Crown Productions,
26 B E A S T S O F N O N AT I O N

Primary Productions, Parliament of Owls, Participant Media, and Mammoth


Entertainment. Originally bud­geted at $4.3 million, Beasts of No Nation ultimately
came in at $6 million.

Production
Encouraged by producers to shoot his film in South Africa, which has tax incen-
tives and a well-­established filmmaking infrastructure, Cary Fukunaga insisted on
shooting in Ghana to achieve greater verisimilitude. Securing permissions from
the Ghanaian military, transporting three dozen crew members to remote loca-
tions (Koforidua and Ezile Bay) in Eastern Ghana and keeping them fed and h ­ oused,
finding child actors to play his boy soldiers all proved to be enormous logistical
challenges that Fukunaga was able to meet, despite battling monsoon rains, con-
tracting malaria, having equipment stolen and extras imprisoned—­and even hav-
ing one of his co-­stars, Idris Elba, narrowly escape death a­ fter accidently falling
off a cliff.

Plot Summary
A young boy named Agu (Abraham Attah) lives in a small village in West Africa
with his parents, older b ­ rother, and two younger siblings in an unnamed country
overtaken by civil war. When rebels associated with the military approach Agu’s
village, terrified villa­gers flee to the country’s capital. Agu’s f­ ather (Kobina Amissa-­
Sam) is able to arrange safe transport for his wife (Ama K. Abebrese) and their
youn­gest child (Vera Nyarkoah Antwi), but he has to stay b ­ ehind himself with Agu
and his eldest son (Francis Weddey). Government forces rout the rebels in fight-
ing at Agu’s village. They then round up the remaining villa­gers as suspected reb-
els. Just before being shot, Agu’s ­father tells his sons to run. The two boys try to
escape into the jungle, but Agu’s ­brother is killed. Agu is eventually dragooned
into a rebel faction known as the NDF. The Commandant (Idris Elba), Agu’s bat-
talion commander, takes Agu u ­ nder his wing, and Agu befriends another NDF
child soldier, a mute boy named Strika (Emmanuel Nii Adom Quaye). A ­ fter being
raped by the Commandant, Agu is comforted by Strika, also a rape victim. An older
soldier named Preacher (Teibu Owusu Achcampong) gives Agu a hallucinogen
called “brown-­brown.” Agu and Strika participate in a series of bloody b ­ attles as
the battalion captures several villages and kills scores of innocent men, w ­ omen,
and ­children—­“success” that earns them a summons to NDF headquarters to meet
the Supreme Commander, Dada Goodblood (Jude Akuwudike). The soldiers (except
for Agu and Strika) spend the night at a brothel, and one of the prostitutes shoots
the lieutenant, badly wounding him. In retaliation, the Commandant and his fol-
lowers kill the w­ omen and abandon the city to the battalion. Now on the run from
their own faction, as well as the United Nations (UN) and government forces, the
battalion is decimated by airstrikes and Strika is killed in an ambush. The rem-
nants of the battalion shelter at a gold mine. A ­ fter the ammunition runs out,
Preacher, now the Commandant’s lieutenant, calls for the soldiers to surrender
to the UN. The Commandant initially refuses, but Agu persuades him to relent.
B E A S T S O F N O N AT I O N 27

The soldiers surrender and are taken into custody by UN troops, leaving the
Commandant alone and raving. Afterwards, the battalion’s boy soldiers are sent to a
missionary school in a safe area. Haunted by what he has done and experienced,
Agu shies away from the other c­ hildren, who are carefree and innocent. Eventually
Agu confesses to Amy, the school’s counselor (Gifty Mawena Sossavi), that he has
seen and done “terrible ­things” and is afraid she ­will think he is “some sort of beast
or a devil,” but also says that he once had a ­family and that he was loved. In the final
scene Agu decides to join the other boys as they swim and play in the ocean.

Reception
­After paying $12 million for the movie’s distribution rights, Netflix si­mul­ta­neously
released Beasts of No Nation on its streaming platform and in selected theaters the
weekend of 17–18 October 2015. The theatrical release was to allow the film to
qualify for Oscar nominations, but it received none (though it did earn many other
awards, including an In­de­pen­dent Spirit Award). The movie also bombed at the
box office, earning only $90,777 for a two-­week run in 31 theaters, a not-­unexpected
result insofar as Netflix subscribers could more con­ve­niently watch it at home—­
and many did; Netflix subsequently reported 3 million views among its 50 mil-
lion members. For the most part, Beasts met with critical acclaim, with reviewers
describing the film as “chilling,” “ultra-­v iolent,” and “hard to watch” but also “hon-
est,” “eye-­opening,” and “power­ful.” Some critics, however, found the movie too
relentlessly graphic while lacking in real depth: “Cary Joji Fukunaga’s artistry reg-
isters less as psychological imprint than as a mea­sure of his professional bona
fides” (Gonzalez, 2015). O­ thers noted that the film’s power tends to dissipate by
its third act: “We march through pillage and rape, and the Commandant tightens
his power through abuse of his youthful charges; meanwhile, the film itself, supped
full of horrors, begins to sicken and dwindle” (Lane, 2005).

Reel History Versus Real History


Canadian Lt. Gen. Romeo Dellaire, former commander of the UN Assistance Mis-
sion for Rwanda (UNAMIR) during its genocidal civil war in 1994, judged Beasts
of No Nation too simplistic: “It’s the classic Blood Diamond story of disaster in Africa
but it d ­ oesn’t give an analy­sis of the situation. ­There was a lot missing. I’m not
against the film. Cinema is an extraordinary tool [but] I think the film could have
done more to show the indoctrination of the ­children, and the psychological ­battles.
It needs to be more nuanced than just African kids with AK47s” (Alexander, 2015).
Helen Morton, director of advocacy for War Child, an international ­children’s war
relief agency, further notes that the movie’s exclusive depiction of boy soldiers
obscures another real­ity: “Forty per cent of child soldiers are girls, and few films
ever portray that. Girls are combatants—­and in growing numbers. They are forced
to do t­ hings that are beyond even a child’s imagination, and often recruited as sex
slaves” (Alexander, 2015). A related criticism, voiced by Zeba Blay, is that the movie
reinforces popu­lar ste­reo­types of Africa as a monolithic “site of misery and pain”
(Blay, 2015).
28 B E N E AT H H I L L 6 0

B E N E AT H H I L L 6 0 ( 2 0 1 0 )

Synopsis
Adapted from war diaries by David Roach and directed by Jeremy Sims, Beneath
Hill 60 is an Australian war drama set during World War I. The film tells the
story of the 1st Australian Tunneling Com­pany’s efforts to dig a series of tunnels
under­neath Hill 60 in the Ypres Salient on the Western Front in order to plant
high-­explosive mines meant to disrupt German defenses and aid a British offen-
sive in 1917.

Background
Beneath Hill 60 owes its genesis to Ross J. Thomas, a mining engineer and World
War I history buff from Townsville, Queensland, Australia. In 1992 Thomas
chanced to discover the war diary of Capt. Oliver Holmes Woodward (1885–1966)
of the 1st Australian Tunneling Com­pany, a WWI unit that helped to plant and
detonate 19 mines (totaling 447 tons of explosives) beneath German lines that
opened the B ­ attle of Messines (7–14 June 1917) in Flanders, Belgium. The result-
ing explosion was immense—it blew the top off Wytschaete Ridge and killed an
estimated 10,000 German defenders—­but did not result in a war-­w inning strate-
gic advantage as was hoped; the Allies took what was left of Hill 60, but the Ger-
mans retook it a few months ­later. Though the Hill 60 operation was not militarily
decisive, the hitherto unknown story of the tunnelers was the stuff of high drama.
Thomas eventually met with documentary director-­producer Bill Leimbach (Gal-
lipoli: The Untold Stories) and quickly convinced him that Woodward’s story was
worthy of filmic treatment. Leimbach made Thomas executive producer, hired Jer-
emy Hartley Sims (Last Train to Freo) to direct a documentary, and hired David
Roach (Young Einstein) to write a screenplay based on Woodward’s diary, with addi-
tional research culled from Canberra’s Australian War Memorial Archives. During
the pre-­production stage, the filmmakers deemed the material suitable for a feature-­
length docudrama. By the end of 2008 they had cast the film and raised most of
what eventually became an 8.1 million AUD ($7.8 million USD) bud­get. Screen
Australia, the government’s film funding agency, furnished 81 ­percent of the bud­
get, and vari­ous Townsville businesses pledged the other 19 ­percent and also pro-
vided key filming locations and earth-­moving equipment, gratis, and the army
supplied period artillery.

Production
­Under the working titles The Silence and The Silence Beneath, filming in and
around Townsville took place over a 40-­day period (20 July–28 August 2009). A
crew led by production designer Clayton Jauncey and art director Sam Hobbs
transformed a sloping Townsville paddock into a section of the Western Front,
complete with more than 500 meters of trenches. For logistical and safety rea-
sons, the tunnel scenes ­were shot in above-­ground simulated tunnels constructed
in a large shed.
B E N E AT H H I L L 6 0 29

Plot Summary
Oliver Woodward (Brendan Cowell), a 30-­year-­old Australian copper miner and
metallurgist, falls in love with Marjorie Moffat Waddell (Bella Heathcote), a w ­ oman
10 years his ju­nior, but romance must wait. U ­ nder pressure to enlist, especially
from Waddell’s ­father, William (Gerald Lepkowski), Woodward takes a commis-
sion to lead the newly formed 1st Australian Tunneling Com­pany, an auxiliary unit
supporting Britain’s Royal Engineers. On the Western Front, Woodward meets
Frank Tiffin (Harrison Gilbertson), a young, shell-­shocked Australian soldier (the
underaged Tiffin initially served as a stretcher ­bearer, where he was given a front-­
row seat to the devastation of trench warfare). Woodward reassigns Tom Dwyer
(Duncan Young) and Norman Morris (Gyton Grantley) to relieve Tiffin. When two
German tunnelers break through into the tunnel the Allies are digging beneath
the German lines, Morris and Dwyer kill the Germans but a German mine explodes,
collapsing the tunnel on top of them. Morris is rescued by the other sappers but
Dwyer is killed. Thereafter, Woodward is assigned the task of destroying the Red
House, a German fort raining enfilade fire on the British trenches, by planting
explosives beneath it. His commanding officer, Col. Wilson Rutledge (Chris Hay-
wood), asks the work to be completed immediately. Sgt. Bill Fraser (Steve Le Mar-
quand), Morris, and Woodward cross No Man’s Land, reach the Red House, and
bury the explosives beneath the building. On their way back to British lines, the
soldiers realize that their wire reel ­isn’t long enough, so Morris is forced to go ahead
to grab the detonator. As they await Morris’s return, the men find a fatally injured
Lt. Robert Clayton (Leon Ford). Morris successfully returns with the detonator,
and the Red House is blown up. The troops are called to the Belgian frontlines, and
when they arrive, Tiffin, Walter, and Bacon are sprayed with German gunfire. Bacon
sacrifices himself for his comrades, ­r unning ahead to distract the Germans so that
Tiffin and Walter make it to the British lines. The unit continues on to Hill 60. For
months, Canadian engineers have dug tunnels under­neath the Messines Ridge,
embedding nearly a million pounds of high explosives in the form of 21 massive
mines within the soil. Woodward and his platoon are told to maintain and pro-
tect the tunnels, and Woodward engineers a drainage shaft to keep the explo-
sives dry while also constructing diversion tunnels. Sneddon meets his fate in one
of t­hose tunnels ­after Rutledge o­ rders him to enter it despite the report that Ger-
mans would soon be setting off their own explosives. The Germans discover their
scheme and begin to dig t­ oward the primary tunnel. The Australians c­ ounter with
an attack tunnel and blow up the exploratory shaft minutes before they are dis-
covered. Unfortunately, a portion of their tunnel collapses, trapping Tiffin. His
comrade, Sgt. Fraser, races through the trenches to halt the explosions in the mines,
but Woodward refuses his impassioned pleas; the operation is more impor­tant than
a single man. Knowing full well he is killing Tiffin, Woodward sets off the mines
in a massive explosion that begins the ­Battle of Messines. The scene shifts to Aus-
tralia, where Woodward marries Marjorie in 1920 and the surviving members of
the unit are t­ here to celebrate his wedding.
30 BIG RED ONE, THE

Reception
­After a red carpet premiere in Townsville on 15 April 2010, Beneath Hill 60 opened
nationally the next day and ultimately brought in a total of 9.6 million (AUD) ($6.8
million USD) in foreign and domestic box offices—­solid returns perhaps repre-
senting a modest profit ­after advertising and promotion costs ­were deducted. The
film garnered 16 AACTA Award nominations among other nominations and awards.
The film did not attract much attention outside of Australia, but most of the reviews
by Australian film critics ­were positive—­although Margaret Pomerantz damned
the film with faint praise: “Perhaps the tension of the situation is not exploited quite
as much as one would hope but this is an ambitious proj­ect that w ­ ill resonate”
(Pomerantz, 2010).

Reel History Versus Real History


Closely based on Woodward’s unpublished war diary and other war archive docu-
ments, Beneath Hill 60 achieves a high degree of historical accuracy in its depiction
of equipment, weapons, and uniforms; the look and feel of the trenches and tun-
nels; and the events depicted. It also manages to adopt a tone of quiet realism that
avoids nationalistic self-­congratulation (though flashbacks detailing Wood-
ward’s courtship of Marjorie Waddell slow the pace of the narrative). The film does,
however, engage in considerable poetic license in its depiction of Frank Tiffin. T ­ here
was a sapper named Frederick “Frank” Matterson Tiffin in the 1st Tunneling Com­
pany, but he survived the war and died an old man in 1962. L ­ ittle e­ lse is known
about him. In the film Tiffin evolves from frightened boy, to intrepid soldier, to
martyr-­hero—­pure fiction designed to elicit the maximum emotional audience
reaction when Woodward is forced to sacrifice him to complete the mission. View-
ers watching Bill Fraser’s frantic run through the trenches to try and stop the
detonation ­w ill be reminded of a similar scene in Peter Weir’s Gallipoli (1981), when
Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson) runs through the trenches in a desperate, futile effort
to stop a suicidal assault that ­will kill his best friend, Archy Hamilton (Mark Lee).

BIG RED ONE, THE (1980; RESTORED VERSION,


2004)

Synopsis
The Big Red One is an American war epic starring Lee Marvin and Mark Hamill
and written and directed by Samuel Fuller, based on his own combat experiences
as a soldier with the 1st Infantry Division (aka “The Big Red One”), from fighting
in North Africa, through the D-­Day invasion of Normandy, ­until Germany’s sur-
render in May 1945.

Background
During World War II, Samuel Fuller (1912–1997) enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1942
and was assigned to the 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division (aka “the
Big Red One”). Fuller saw combat in ­every major Eu­ro­pean campaign and was
BIG RED ONE, THE 31

awarded the Bronze Star, the Silver Star, and the Purple Heart. A ­ fter the war Sam
Fuller became a pulp fiction writer and then a filmmaker specializing in B-­movies,
but making a film based on his own war experiences was never far from his mind.
By 1958 he had a “Big Red One” script completed. John Wayne got wind of the
proj­ect and asked Fuller if he could star in the movie, but Oscar Dystel, head of
Bantam Books, encouraged Fuller to write a book instead of d ­ oing a movie. In the
end Fuller did neither ­because he could not formulate a coherent narrative (Peary,
2012, p. 79). In 1974 director-­producer Peter Bogdanovich, a close friend of Fuller’s
who had been hearing his war stories for years, offered to produce Fuller’s “Big
Red One” film and persuaded Paramount studio head Frank Yablans to option the
property. Yablans paid Fuller $5,000 to write a new script. By the time Fuller had
it completed, Yablans had left Paramount and been replaced by Robert Evans, who
let the option lapse. Ultimately Lorimar, a new mini-­studio specializing in TV pro-
duction, took over the proj­ect but repeatedly scaled down its projected bud­get,
from $12 million to just $4 million, precluding some planned location shooting in
Tunisia and Yugo­slavia (now Slovenia). Gene Corman, Roger Corman’s b ­ rother,
replaced Bogdanovich as producer. As was always Fuller’s intention, U.S. Marine
Corps WWII veteran Lee Marvin was hired to play the iconic lead role of the ser-
geant. The only other big name was Mark Hamill (Star Wars), who played Pvt. Griff.
Robert Carradine (who also appeared in Star Wars) played Zab, a cigar-­chomping
private representing a WWII-­era Fuller.

Production
Principal photography took place in the spring and summer months of 1978. Direct-
ing b­ attle scenes with a loaded .45 pistol in his hand, Fuller would fire into the air
­after a take to remind his actors of the mortal gravity of combat. ­Castle scenes ­were
filmed in Ireland and winter forest scenes w ­ ere shot in California’s Sierra Madre
Mountains, but most of the film was shot at vari­ous locations in Israel, with Nazi
soldiers played by Jewish extras (paid $11 per day), wearing yarmulkes ­under their
helmets. A quarry at Rosh Ha’ayin near Tel Aviv doubled for the Kasserine Pass in
Tunisia; a Roman amphitheater at Beit She’an near the Israel-­Jordan border stood
in for the El Djem Coliseum in Tunisia; North African and Eu­ro­pean beach inva-
sion scenes w ­ ere shot on beaches at Caesarea and Netanya, midway between Haifa
and Tel Aviv; Sicilian village scenes w­ ere shot in Haifa; and an abandoned armory
at Schneller Army Base in Jerusalem stood in for Falkenau concentration camp, its
swastikas hidden from the religious school opposite. The shoot went well, but post-­
production proved exceedingly rocky. Fuller eventually assembled a four-­and-­a-­
half-­hour rough cut, but Lorimar executives rejected it as not “epic” enough in
content to warrant its lengthy r­ unning time. They took the editing away from Fuller
and hired journeyman editor Morton Tubor to cut the film down to 113 minutes,
leaving 60 ­percent of Fuller’s rough cut on the cutting room floor. They also hired
composer Bodie Chandler (Futureworld) to write a score without consulting Fuller:
another indignity that Fuller had to accept b ­ ecause his contract did not grant him
final cut.
32 BIG RED ONE, THE

Plot Summary
A boldface title added to the 2004 version reads: “This is a fictional life based on
factual death.” The film then begins in black and white on 11 November 1918
(Armistice Day, World War I). A private (Lee Marvin) kills a German soldier who
walked ­toward him in a pose of surrender. Back at his headquarters, the private, a
member of the 1st Division, is informed that the “war’s been over for four hours.”
The film then shifts ahead to November 1942, when the same man, now a ser-
geant in the “Big Red One,” leads his five-­man ­r ifle squad (1st Platoon, I Com­pany
of the 3rd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment) through Northern Africa. Over the
next two years the squad fights in Sicily, storms Omaha Beach at D-­Day, and helps
to liberate France (even battling Germans garrisoned inside a m ­ ental asylum with
the unsolicited help of a ­mental patient who commandeers a machine gun and iron-
ically declares himself “sane” and therefore qualified to fight). The squad also
takes part in the invasion of Germany and the liberation of one of the Nazi death
camps at war’s end. Si­mul­ta­neously, the sergeant’s German counterpart, a noncom-
missioned officer (NCO) named Schroeder (Siegfried Rauch), fights in the same
skirmishes from the other side, showing unending loyalty to his country and to
Hitler. As the American forces continue across France, the unit passes the spot
where the sergeant killed the conceding German soldier 26 years earlier. A First
World War monument now stands at the site, and Pvt. Johnson (Kelly Ward) naively
­mistakes it for a newly minted WWII memorial—­a ­bitter irony not lost on the ser-
geant. The unit concludes its tour with the liberation of the Falkenau concentra-
tion camp. Afterwards, Schroeder surprises the sergeant in the woods at night in
an attempt to surrender. The sergeant, having just buried a small child released
from the concentration camp, stabs Schroeder. The sergeant’s unit arrives, inform-
ing him that the war was over “about four hours ago.” As the squad leaves the area,
Pvt. Griff (Mark Hamill) sees that Schroeder is alive. The sergeant and his unit
then scramble to save the German soldier’s life on their way back to camp.

Reception
The Big Red One premiered at the 33rd Cannes Film Festival in May 1980 and was
released in the United States on 18 July. For a film that had been drastically abridged
in the editing pro­cess and consigned to limited distribution, it did quite well at
the box office ($7.2 million gross) and elicited glowing critical notices. For exam-
ple, the anonymous reviewer for Variety called it “a terrific war yarn, a picture of
palpable raw power which manages both intense intimacy and ­great scope at the
same time” (31 December 1979). Vincent Canby also offered praise: “The movie’s
­battle footage is mostly small-­scale but terrifically effective, especially in a sequence
devoted to the 1944 landings at Omaha Beach in Normandy, which is as good as
anything in The Longest Day. Mr. Fuller’s characters a­ ren’t very in­ter­est­ing but, in
this case, banality has a point. ­These ­really are ordinary guys and not the wildly
representative ones seen in most Hollywood war movies. More impor­tant, one is
always aware of the soldiers’ sense of isolation even in the midst of b ­ attle and of
the endlessness of their task. If they survive one ­battle, their only reward is to be
able to fight another” (Canby, 1980). In his posthumously published memoirs,
BIG RED ONE, THE 33

Fuller confessed to being “thrilled by the almost universal esteem. Yet I ­can’t stop
thinking about my four-­and-­a-­half-­hour version of the movie, which is somewhere
in the vaults at Warner ­Brothers, who bought the rights several years ago” (Fuller,
2002, p. 482). In 2004, eight years ­after Fuller’s death, film critic/historian Rich-
ard Schickel brought Fuller’s unrealized dream of a director’s cut to fruition. Using
70,000 feet of vault footage and Fuller’s original shooting script as a guide, Schickel
produced The Big Red One: The Reconstruction: a 158-­minute version that removes a
gratuitous voice-­over device and restores 45 minutes of missing content, allowing
for more depth and scope, more detailed characterizations, and a more meaningful
narrative shape than was evident in the original theatrical release in 1980. Reviews
this time ­were even more enthusiastic. Roger Ebert awarded the film four out of four
stars and wrote, “The restored [The] Big Red One is able to suggest the scope and
duration of the war, the way it’s one damned t­ hing ­after another, the distances trav-
eled, the pile-up of experiences that are numbing most of the time but occasionally
produce an episode as perfect as a short story” (Ebert, 2004).

Reel History Versus Real History


In the words of military historian Clayton Odie Sheffield, “The Big Red One is his-
torically accurate in the macro sense, but incorporates a good deal of dramatic
license” (Sheffield, 2001, p. 117). Sheffield then goes on to enumerate some of the
film’s embellishments or omissions. For example, in depicting the 1st Infantry Divi-
sion’s landings near Oran, Algeria (8 November 1942), the movie shows French
troops reading American leaflets that urge nonre­sis­tance, which is actually not pos­
si­ble b
­ ecause the landings took place at 0100 hours—­too dark for any defender to
read a leaflet. It also shows the Vichy commander initiating a brief exchange of
gunfire, resulting in a few casualties on both sides, a­ fter which the French and
American soldiers join each other and celebrate their ­union on the beach. Shef-
field says: “In all accounts from the 16th Regiment sector, re­sis­tance was e­ ither
non-­existent or light and unor­ga­nized, and ­there ­were no beach reunions com-
memorating a cease-­fire with the joining of two armies in a truce” (Sheffield, 2001,
p. 118). Sheffield also notes that the 16th Regiment “was hit with winter rains and
snow while deployed in the Kasserine Pass area,” but the movie depicts almost no
inclement weather (Sheffield, 2001, pp. 118–119). Sheffield finds the movie’s depic-
tion of action in Sicily credible but notes a number of chronological and tactical
inaccuracies in the film’s rendition of the landings at Normandy on D-­Day. He fur-
ther notes that insofar as The Big Red One “provides very l­ittle replication of large
combat formations of soldiers,” it does not need to feature much heavy equipment
(Sheffield, 2001, p. 121). As was true of other cash-­strapped WWII productions
(e.g., The B­ attle of the Bulge), Fuller deploys M4 Sherman tanks with German decals
to stand in for German panzers, but Sheffield finds the discrepancy “irrelevant.”
Fi­nally, some critics thought Lee Marvin, 54 at the time of the film shoot in 1978,
was too old to play a WWII U.S. Army sergeant. Yet he was just a few years older
than his own ­father, Lamont Walter Marvin (1896–1971), who was a sergeant in
World War II in his late forties. Indeed, a­ fter the film came out, Marvin told an
interviewer, “I r­ eally played my f­ather” (Johnson, p. 39).
34 B L A C K H AW K D O W N

B L A C K H AW K D O W N ( 2 0 0 1 )

Synopsis
Black Hawk Down is an American combat film co-­produced and directed by Ridley
Scott, from a screenplay by Ken Nolan, based on the eponymous 1999 nonfiction
book by Mark Bowden. Book and film recount a 1993 raid in Mogadishu, Soma-
lia, by the U.S. military that devolved into a desperate fight for survival known as
the ­Battle of Mogadishu. The film features a large ensemble cast that includes Josh
Hartnett, Ewan McGregor, Eric Bana, Tom Sizemore, William Fichtner, Jason Isaacs,
Tom Hardy, and Sam Shepard.

Background
On 3 October 1993, “Task Force Ranger,” a 160-­man, U.N.-­affiliated U.S. military
detachment, conducted a raid in the center of war-­torn Mogadishu, Somalia. Its
mission—to capture two lieutenants of Habr Gidr clan leader Mohamed Farrah
Aidid—­went disastrously awry when the task force encountered fierce re­sis­tance
from hundreds of armed civilian Somali National Alliance (SNA) fighters. Sur-
rounded and pinned down for almost 14 hours, the Americans took heavy casual-
ties (18 dead, 73 wounded) before being evacuated by an armored relief convoy
early Monday morning on 4 October In the aftermath of what became known as
the B­ attle of Mogadishu, news reports showed jubilant Somalis dragging the body
of a dead and nearly naked U.S. soldier through the streets of Mogadishu—an image
that horrified the American public and rocked the Clinton administration (though
American media outlets did not bother to report that over 1,000 Somalis also died
in the same b ­ attle). To mollify critics Clinton fired Les Aspin, his secretary of
defense, and demoted Gen. William F. Garrison, the officer in charge of the disas-
trous operation. Anxious to discover what went wrong, journalist Mark Bowden
traveled to Mogadishu, interviewed participants on both sides, and reviewed volu-
minous Army rec­ords. His painstaking account of the incident was first published
as a series of 29 articles in The Philadelphia Enquirer in 1997 and l­ ater turned into
a critically acclaimed bestseller, Black Hawk Down: A Story of Modern War (1999).
Director Simon West (Con Air) suggested to Hollywood mega-­producer Jerry
Bruckheimer (Top Gun, Pearl Harbor) that he secure the film rights and let West
direct. Bruckheimer did buy the film rights but hired Ridley Scott (Alien, Blade
Runner) to direct ­after West took on another film proj­ect. Though Ken Nolan
received sole credit for the screenplay, Mark Bowden wrote the initial adaptation,
Nolan rewrote Bowden’s version, Steven Gaghan did another rewrite, Steven Zail-
lian and Ezna Sands rewrote most of Gaghan and Nolan’s work, and then Nolan did
a final rewrite. For purposes of dramatic streamlining but also for ideological rea-
sons, what had been a fuller characterization of the combatants and the po­liti­cal
context was pared back and soldiers’ expressions of ambivalence regarding the mis-
sion w­ ere excised altogether.

Production
Crucial to the proj­ect was the full cooperation of the American military establish-
ment, which Ridley Scott sought and won quid pro quo. For a $3 million fee and
B L A C K H AW K D O W N 35

script approval rights, the Department of Defense (DOD) supplied numerous con­
sul­tants and the requisite war matériel, including Black Hawk he­li­cop­ters and the
pi­lots to fly them. The DOD also arranged for military training of the actors. The
40 actors playing Army Rangers took a one-­week crash course at Fort Benning,
Georgia, while the 15 Delta Force actors took a two-­week course from the 1st Spe-
cial Warfare Training Group at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Mogadishu survivor
Michael Durant and other L ­ ittle Bird and Black Hawk pi­lots briefed Ron Eldard
and the actors playing 160th SOAR he­li­cop­ter pi­lots at Fort Campbell, Kentucky.
“They [the DOD] saw this as a recruitment film,” Scott l­ater avowed. Scott and his
team initially scouted Amman, Jordan, as their principal location, but the city was
too built up and not on the coast, as is Mogadishu. They ended up shooting the
film in Morocco, where Scott had shot parts of Gladiator in 1999. Filming took
place in the cities of Rabat, Salé, and Kénitra, Morocco, between March and
June 2001.

Plot Summary
In 1993, following the start of a civil war in Somalia, the United Nations conducted
military peacekeeping operations t­here. When it withdrew most of its forces,
Mogadishu-­based militia loyal to Mohamed Farrah Aidid declared war on the
remaining UN personnel. In response, U.S. Army Rangers, Delta Force counter-
terrorist specialists, and 160th SOAR airmen are deployed to capture Omar Salad
Elmi and Abdi Hassan Awale Qeybdiid, two of Aidid’s top advisors. Delta Force
troops take Aidid’s lieutenants prisoner within the building, but the Rangers and
he­li­cop­ters chaperoning the convoy are hit by intense fire, while SSG Matt Evers-
mann’s (Josh Hartnett) Chalk Four is mistakenly let off a block away. Pfc. Todd
Blackburn (Orlando Bloom) fractures his spine ­after a fall out of a Black Hawk he­li­
cop­ter, so SSG Jeff Struecker (Brian Van Holt) takes a few Humvees and moves to
rescue Blackburn. As Struecker breaks away from the convoy, Sgt. Dominick
Pilla (Danny Hoch) is shot and killed. Black Hawk Super Six-­One pi­loted by
CWO Clifton “Elvis” Wolcott (Jeremy Piven) is shot from the air by a rocket-­
propelled grenade (RPG). The pi­lots perish in the aftermath, and the crew chiefs
sustain injuries. Ordered to reach the crash site and evacuate survivors and fatali-
ties, LTC Danny McKnight’s (Tom Sizemore) Humvee column sustains heavy casu-
alties in a failed attempt to reach it. In the meantime, a set of Ranger Chalks,
including Eversmann’s unit, arrive at the Super Six-One crash site and form a bar-
rier around the wounded men and deceased pi­lots and wait for extraction. As they
wait, Super Six-­Four, pi­loted by CWO Michael Durant (Ron Eldard), is gunned
down and sent crashing to the road, blocks away from Super Six-One. Heavy gun-
fire keeps ground troops from accessing the crash sites and leaves all Rangers with-
out backup. A pair of Delta Force snipers are dropped into the Super Six-One site
and find Durant alive. Unfortunately, the crash site is infiltrated by e­ nemy combat-
ants: Shughart and Gordon are killed, and Durant is captured. McKnight’s column
decides against proceeding to the Six-­One crash site and instead returns to the
base. The men regroup and devise a plan to rescue the Rangers and pi­lots, led
by Major General William F. Garrison (Sam Shepard), commander of Task Force
Ranger, who sends an LTC (Steven Ford) to request back-up reinforcements
36 B O R N O N T H E F O U RT H O F J U LY

from the 10th Mountain Division. Following sunset, Aidid’s militia forces attack
the Americans cornered at Super Six-­One’s crash site. AH-6J L ­ ittle Bird light he­li­
cop­ter gunships manage to hold off the swarming Somali militants throughout the
night with strafing runs and rocket attacks. Shortly ­after sunrise the 10th Mountain
Division’s relief column reaches the crash site and rescues the American soldiers.

Reception
Rushed into wide release (3,100 theaters) four months ­after 9/11 to capitalize on
American patriotic fervor, Black Hawk Down ran from mid-­January to mid-­
April  2002. The movie grossed $108.6 million domestically and another $64.3
million overseas for a worldwide total of $172.9 million—at least $35 million in
profits over and above production, advertising, and promotion costs. Nominated
for four Oscars, Black Hawk Down won two (for Best Editing and Best Sound) and
also fared well with most film critics, who praised the film’s frenetic, nonstop
action—­impeccably edited, tightly framed, and uncannily realistic. T ­ here w
­ ere,
however, dissenting voices. Film critic Elvis Mitchell described Black Hawk Down
as “accomplished but meaningless” and took the movie to task for a “lack of char-
acterization [that] converts the Somalis into a pack of snarling dark-­skinned beasts,
gleefully pulling the Americans from their downed aircraft and stripping them.
Intended or not, it reeks of glumly staged racism” (Mitchell, 2001).

Reel History Versus Real History


Though it accurately depicts the course of the ­Battle of Mogadishu, Black Hawk Down
skimps on the broader context. In so ­doing it largely reduces a complex geopo­liti­
cal reckoning to a 144-­minute firefight. At the insistence of the Pentagon, the movie
also elides a U.S. soldier involved in the b ­ attle named John “Stebby” Stebbins
(renamed in the movie as “John Grimes”). In 1999 SPC Stebbins was convicted by
court-­martial for repeatedly raping his own six-­year-­old ­daughter, a domestic atroc-
ity that was also a PR nightmare the DOD was anxious to suppress. Other elisions
can be chalked up to the usual narrative and cultural imperatives that define Hol-
lywood cinema. Ergo, the movie condenses 100 key figures in Bowden’s book down
to 39 and includes only one African American actor and no Somali actors. Con-
versely, the film features soldiers wearing helmets with their last names on them,
a fictional device deployed by Ridley Scott to help the viewing audience distin-
guish among the many characters.

B O R N O N T H E F O U R T H O F J U LY ( 1 9 8 9 )

Synopsis
Born on the Fourth of July is an American biopic/war drama based on the best-­selling
autobiography of the same title by Vietnam War veteran Ron Kovic (played by Tom
Cruise in the film) that traces Kovic’s evolution from soldier to anti-­war activist.
Vietnam veteran Oliver Stone co-­w rote the screenplay with Kovic and also co-­
produced and directed the film, which is the second installment in Stone’s trilogy
B O R N O N T H E F O U RT H O F J U LY 37

of films about the Vietnam War, following Platoon (1986) and preceding Heaven &
Earth (1993).

Background
Vietnam combat veteran turned filmmaker Oliver Stone (Platoon) read Ron Kov-
ic’s best-­selling autobiography Born on the Fourth of July (McGraw-­Hill, 1976) and
deci­ded he had to make it into a movie. Stone and Kovic had similar stories: both
men had once been gung-ho American patriots who became bitterly disillusioned
with nationalism and war by their military ser­v ice in Vietnam. ­After Stone bought
the rights to Kovic’s book in 1977, the two men became close friends and collabo-
rated on a screen adaptation. A movie version to be produced by Martin Bregman,
directed by William Friedkin (­later replaced by Daniel Petrie), and starring Al
Pacino was supposed to begin production in the summer of 1978, but despite a
bud­get of only $6 million, funding fell through. Stone promised a crestfallen Kovic
that he would someday make the picture when he was in a position to do so. Ten
years ­later, ­after the huge success of his first Vietnam movie, Platoon (1986), Stone
was able to keep his promise. Now considered bankable, Stone secured a produc-
tion deal with Universal Pictures as director and co-­producer with his frequent col-
laborator, A. Kitman Ho. Having achieved superstar status with Top Gun (1986),
Tom Cruise, 27 at the time, was cast as Ron Kovic.

Production
Given the movie’s anti-­war and anti-­establishment slant in the jingoistic Reagan
era, Universal executives ­were dubious about its box office potential. Accordingly,
they set the bud­get at a modest $14 million. To economize, most of the cast con-
tracted to receive a percentage of the profits in lieu of a salary up front (a highly
lucrative deal, as it turned out). Thirteen years ­after the fall of Saigon, U.S.-­Vietnam
relations w
­ ere still strained, so Stone could not shoot the film in Vietnam. As he
had done with Platoon, Stone opted to shoot his Vietnam scenes in the Philippines.
Most of the scenes set in Massapequa, Long Island (Ron Kovic’s hometown), and
at the 1972 Republican National Convention in Miami ­were actually shot in Dal-
las, Texas. Wanting to understand Kovic’s life as a paraplegic, Cruise obtained a
wheelchair and stayed in it for many weeks. Stone, following suit, accompanied
Kovic on public outings to see how paraplegics in wheelchairs w ­ ere treated by the
general public. A­ fter viewing a rough cut of the movie, Universal execs, heretofore
parsimonious, ordered the final scene—of Kovic delivering a speech at the 1976
Demo­cratic National Convention—to be reshot with a much larger crowd (6,000
extras instead of the 600 Stone had on hand). The $500,000 reshoot was done in
a single day at the L.A. Forum.

Plot Summary
In Massapequa, Long Island, in the summer of 1956, 10-­year-­old Ron Kovic (Bryan
Larkin) plays war games in the woods and attends a Fourth of July parade. An ide-
alistic patriot, Kovic (Tom Cruise) enlists in the Marines in 1964 at the age of 18.
He almost skips his high school prom a­ fter failing to secure a date with his love
38 B O R N O N T H E F O U RT H O F J U LY

interest, Donna (Kyra Sedgwick), but decides to go at the last minute and ends up
dancing with her on his last night before boot camp. Three years ­later, in Octo-
ber 1967, Kovic is a Marine sergeant on his second tour of duty in Vietnam. His
unit kills several Viet­nam­ese civilians, mistakenly believing them to be Viet Cong.
Then Kovic accidentally kills a member of his own platoon, a new arrival named
Wilson (Michael Compotaro). Four months ­later, during the Tet Offensive, Kovic
is critically wounded in a firefight. Rendered a paraplegic, he spends several months
recovering at a decrepit, rat-­infested Veterans Administration (VA) hospital in the
Bronx. Returning home disabled in 1969, Kovic succumbs to despair and alcohol-
ism. During a Fourth of July parade, Kovic shows signs of post-­traumatic stress
disorder (PTSD) when he is deeply unnerved by the sound of firecrackers explod-
ing. Asked to give a speech, he gets overcome by emotion and is forced to leave
the stage. Kovic meets up with a high school friend, Timmy Burns (Frank Whaley),
who is also an injured ser­v iceman, and swaps stories about war­time experiences.
­L ater, Kovic visits Donna at her college in Syracuse, New York, but the two are
separated as she and other student demonstrators are arrested for standing against
the Vietnam War. Back home, Kovic finds himself in a bar, close to blows with a
WWII veteran. Afterwards, Kovic argues passionately with his ­mother, and his
­father sends him to Mexico. He arrives in “The Village of the Sun” (i.e., the town
of Ajijic in the state of Jalisco, Mexico), a safe space for injured Vietnam veterans.
­There Kovic has his initial sexual encounter with a prostitute and befriends another
dissolute wheelchair-­bound veteran named Charlie (Willem Dafoe). ­Going back
to Long Island, Kovic visits Wilson’s f­amily and confesses his responsibility for
Wilson’s death. Kovic then joins Vietnam Veterans against the War (VVAW) and
attends the 1972 Republican National Convention in Miami. He shares his Viet-
nam experience with a reporter and speaks out against the Vietnam War, enrag-
ing the Nixon supporters at the convention. Security guards remove him from the
hall. Four years ­later Kovic’s strug­gles are fi­nally vindicated when he is invited to
speak at the 1976 Demo­cratic National Convention and publishes his autobiogra-
phy, Born on the Fourth of July.

Reception
Released just before Christmas 1989, Born on the Fourth of July grossed $5.3 mil-
lion by the third week of its run, ranking #1 at the box office. The film went on to
earn $70 million domestically and $91 million overseas for a total of $161 million
in worldwide ticket sales—­a smash hit, considering that the film’s production
bud­get was less than 10 ­percent of that sum. Among many other accolades Born
nearly swept the Golden Globe Awards and received eight Oscar nominations, with
Oliver Stone winning for Best Director and David Brenner and Joe Hutshing win-
ning for Best Editing. Likewise, the critical response was overwhelmingly favor-
able, though not unan­i­mous. For example, Jonathan Rosenbaum felt that the film’s
ending cheapened its other­w ise somber message: “The movie’s conventional show-
biz finale, brimming with false uplift, implies that the traumas of other mutilated
and disillusioned Vietnam veterans can easily be overcome if they write books and
turn themselves into celebrities” (Rosenbaum, J., n.d.).
B R AV E H E A R T 39

Reel History Versus Real History


The movie follows Kovic’s autobiography faithfully, but, to heighten melodrama, it
does resort to falsification in at least two major ways. In real­ity Kyra Sedgwick’s
character, Donna, never existed. The prom scene, Ron’s visit to Syracuse, his per-
sonal involvement in the protest, and police crack-­down—­none of t­hese events
actually happened, though Kovic did watch the demonstration on tele­v i­sion. In
his memoir he recalls being outraged by the treatment of the protestors; their vic-
timization reminded him of the way he and his fellow veterans had been treated
­after they returned home. In the movie Ron Kovic is shown visiting Wilson’s par-
ents and ­w idow and confessing to them that he accidentally killed Wilson in com-
bat. In real­ity, the meeting never took place. Kovic did admit to the shooting in
his book—­a far cry from an in-­person apology and obviously not cinematic.

B R AV E H E A R T ( 1 9 9 5 )

Synopsis
Braveheart is an American war epic directed by and starring Mel Gibson, who
portrays William Wallace, a late 13th-­century Scottish warrior who led the Scots
in the First War of Scottish In­de­pen­dence against King Edward I of E ­ ngland.
Adapted for the screen by Randall Wallace, the film derives from Scottish poet
Blind Harry’s epic poem The Actes and Deidis of the Illustre and Vallyeant Campioun
Schir William Wallace.

William Wallace (Mel Gibson, right) leads the Scots in a 13th-­century war for in­de­pen­
­ ngland in Gibson’s Braveheart (1995). (20th ­Century Fox/Photofest)
dence from E
40 B R AV E H E A R T

Background
On vacation in Scotland in 1983, screenwriter Randall Wallace got the idea for
Braveheart when he encountered a statue of Sir William Wallace (1270–1305) at
Edinburgh ­Castle and learned from a Black Watch guard that Wallace was Scot-
land’s greatest hero: a medieval warrior-­leader who gloriously defied British rule,
at least for a time. In 1988 Wallace wrote the first draft of a script for an epic biopic
of his namesake (no relation), based on The Actes and Deidis of the Illustre and Vally-
eant Campioun Schir William Wallace (more commonly known as The Wallace), an
epic poem by Scottish poet Blind Harry (c.1440–1492). Written some 170 years
­after Wallace’s death, The Wallace mostly traffics in patriotic myth. Randall Wal-
lace used Blind Harry’s poem indiscriminately and salted it with a good deal more
romanticized balderdash. Wallace sold the script to MGM/UA in 1992. When stu-
dio chief Alan Ladd Jr. was ousted from MGM in July 1993, he was allowed to take
Braveheart with him when he re-­established his in­de­pen­dent firm, The Ladd Com­
pany. The proj­ect lay fallow for a year, during which time Mel Gibson, who had
initially passed on the proj­ect, changed his mind and offered to direct the picture
if he could radically revise the script. Though he would have preferred young Jason
Patric as Wallace, Gibson eventually agreed to star in the movie as well. During
pre-­production negotiations with Paramount, Gibson waived his salary—­usually
$10 to $12 million a movie—in lieu of a share of the gross profits and had his own
production com­pany, Icon Entertainment, put in $15 million t­oward a projected
bud­get of $60 million. Hedging its bets, Paramount Pictures opted to acquire only
U.S. and Canada distribution rights on the condition that 20th ­Century Fox acquire
the foreign rights. Paramount ultimately put in $17 million and 20th ­Century Fox
contributed $43 million, ­after overruns pushed the final production cost up to
$75 million.

Production
The grueling 105-­day shoot began on 6 June 1994 (the 50th anniversary of D-­Day)
and ended on 22 September 1994. During the first six weeks the scenes covering
William Wallace’s early years w ­ ere shot on location in Glen Nevis in the Scottish
highlands, where it rained almost e­ very day. From mid-­July to late August the major
­battle scenes ­were shot on the Curragh Plains, about 30 miles southwest of Dub-
lin, Ireland. The opposing armies w ­ ere played by 1,500 reserve members of the
Irish Defence Forces (IDF). With 1,400 extras for some scenes, it took hours to get
every­one through costume, makeup, and armoring. The ­Battle of Stirling Bridge
took six weeks to film (though the a­ ctual ­battle in 1297 took only an hour or two).
Gibson used hundreds of extras, many real h ­ orses, and a c­ ouple of mechanical
­horses for shots showing ­horses being felled in ­battle (the animatronic beasts
weighed 200 pounds and w ­ ere fueled by nitrogen cylinders that propelled them at
30 mph on 20-­foot tracks). Using nine cameras, cinematographer John Toll shot
roughly half a million feet of film for the Stirling ­battle sequence that was ­later
edited down to only seven minutes of screen time. During editing, a few frames
­were removed at vari­ous points in the combat sequences to produce a jarring effect
and accentuate the frenzied vio­lence. A ­ fter test screenings elicited audience
B R AV E H E A R T 41

revulsion at scenes like Wallace’s graphically depicted disembowelment, Gibson


and his editor, Steven Rosenblum, cut out the most brutal parts to avoid the
expensive stigma of NC-17 from the Motion Picture Association of Amer­ i­
ca
(MPAA); the final version was rated R for “brutal medieval warfare.”

Plot Summary
­After the death of King Alexander III of Scotland in 1280, King Edward “Long-
shanks” (Patrick McGoohan) invades and conquers Scotland. Surviving the deaths
of his ­father and ­brother, Young William Wallace (James Robinson) is ferried out of
his home country and taught by his U ­ ncle Argyle (Brian Cox). Years l­ ater, Long-
shanks grants his noblemen land and privileges in Scotland. An older Wallace (Mel
Gibson) comes back to Scotland and secretly marries his childhood sweetheart
Murron MacClannough (Catherine McCormack). ­After Murron is murdered by the
British, Wallace seeks vengeance and leads his clan against the local En­glish gar-
rison. Word of Wallace’s actions against the British reaches his fellow Scots, and
clans near and far pledge allegiance to his rebellion. Longshanks then commands
his son, Prince Edward (Peter Hanly), to neutralize Wallace. Wallace proves a vic-
torious leader, winning the B ­ attle of Stirling Bridge and obliterating the city of York,
killing Longshanks’s nephew in the pro­cess. Wallace turns to Robert the Bruce
(Angus Macfadyen), the son of nobleman Robert the Elder and in the r­ unning for
the crown, for assistance. However, Robert proves to be u ­ nder his f­ ather’s control,
acquiescing to the Elder’s wishes by submitting to the En­glish in a play for the
throne. Meanwhile, concerned by the possibility of Wallace’s outright rebellion,
Longshanks enlists the help of his son’s wife, Isabelle of France (Sophie Marceau),
to open negotiations with Wallace. Isabelle sets a meeting with Wallace and becomes
quickly infatuated with him. Unmoved, Wallace begs the Scottish royals to strike
against Isabelle’s forces. Longshanks takes to the battlefield and confronts the Scots
at Falkirk where noblemen Lochlan (John Murtagh) and Mornay (Alun Armstrong),
betray Wallace and lose the fight for the Scots. Not one to allow betrayal, Wallace
kills Lochlan and Mornay and finds his vengeance in a seven-­year war against
En­glish forces. Isabelle proves a comrade in arms and a lover with whom Wallace
has an affair. Robert the Younger attempts to open the lines of communication by
setting a meeting with Wallace in Scotland, but he is thwarted by his ­father, who
has colluded with other royals to apprehend Wallace and deliver him to En­glish
forces. Robert is disgusted by his f­ ather’s deceit and disowns Robert the Elder. Once
in London, Wallace is accused of high treason and subsequently sentenced to
public torture and death by beheading. Throughout his torture, Wallace does
not acknowledge the En­glish king. As the crowds beg for mercy, the magistrate
offers Wallace a deal: if Wallace himself asks for mercy, then he ­w ill be gifted
with a swift death. However, not to be manipulated, Wallace shouts “Freedom!”
seconds before his decapitation. Wallace embraces a final comfort of seeing a
vision of Murron’s face within the crowd before he perishes. In 1314, Robert the
Bruce has been named king of Scotland. However, rather than bow to En­glish
rule, Bruce shocks the En­glish by battling against them and eventually securing
freedom for Scotland.
42 B R AV E H E A R T

Reception
Though no run-­away blockbuster, Braveheart proved to be a solid hit at the box
office. During its initial domestic run (19 May–24 August. 1995; widest release:
2,037 theaters), the movie earned a respectable $60 million. Paramount re-­released
Braveheart twice: on 15 September 1995 and again on 16 February 1996, a­ fter it
was nominated for 10 Oscars. By 9 June 1996, the final day of its year-­long run in
North Amer ­i­ca, Braveheart had earned $75.6 million—­just past the break-­even
mark—­but an additional $134.8 million in foreign box office receipts pushed the
total gross to $210.4 million. Released on VHS in March 1996, Braveheart topped
all video rentals that year. In addition to strong box office showings, Braveheart
was showered with awards: 7 BAFTA nominations (and 3 wins); 4 Golden Globe
nominations (Mel Gibson won for Best Director); and 10 Acad­emy Award nomina-
tions (and 5 wins, for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Sound
Editing, and Best Makeup). President Bill Clinton enjoyed Braveheart so much he
watched it twice in three days in May 1995. Reviews w ­ ere, likewise, mostly approv-
ing. Film critics praised the movie for its epic scale, rousing b ­ attle sequences, and
emotional earnestness, but more than a few found Braveheart overwrought and
excessively violent (i.e., a trite Mel Gibson vanity proj­ect).

Reel History Versus Real History


Of all the films ever made that purport to be based in ­actual history, Braveheart
ranks as the most egregiously inaccurate. In the opening scene a caption indicates
that the year is 1280 while a voice-­over claims that Scottish King Alexander III
has died without leaving a male heir, thus creating a power vacuum filled by En­glish
King Edward I (“Longshanks”), whose troops are occupying Scotland. King Alex-
ander III actually died in 1286, and the En­glish did not invade Scotland u ­ ntil 1296,
during the reign of John Balliol (appointed over Robert the Bruce by Edward I, who
acted as arbitrator of the succession). The Scottish rebellion broke out in 1297, when
William Wallace was 27 years old; Scotland had been f­ree and at peace when he
was a child. The movie also mangles chronology in its depiction of Princess Isa-
bella. She could not have warned Wallace about the upcoming ­Battle of Falkirk
(22 July 1298) b ­ ecause she was only three years old at the time and still living in
France. Indeed, Isabella never knew Wallace or King Edward I. She first arrived
in ­England and married Edward II in January 1308—­three years ­after Wallace’s
execution and six months a­ fter the death of King Edward I. Likewise, the film’s
characterizations of King Edward I as a ruthless psychopath and his son, Prince
Edward, as a homosexual are historically dubious at best. Longshanks was a
hardened warrior-­king but not demonical. Rumors of Edward II’s alleged homo­
sexuality stem from his close friendship with a courtier named Piers Gaveston,
1st Earl of Cornwall (c.1284–1312), but an intimate relationship has never been
proven. In the movie King Edward I murders Phillip, his son’s gay lover (based on
Gaveston), by nonchalantly throwing him out a high ­castle win­dow—­a scene that
amused audiences but angered gay activists, who found it homophobic. William
Wallace is portrayed in the film as hailing from a ­family of peasant farmers. In
actuality Wallace’s ­father was a minor nobleman. The movie depicts the En­glish as
BREAKER MORANT 43

executing Wallace’s wife, thus providing Wallace with a deeply personal motive
for rebelling against them. This is pure fiction; ­there is no rec­ord of Wallace hav-
ing been married. Even Mel Gibson’s physiognomy and age are wrong. Wallace
was reputed to have been tall (perhaps 6'5") and heavi­ly muscled. He would have
been in his late twenties to mid-­thirties during the uprising against ­England. Stand-
ing a trim 5'11" and 38 years of age at the time of filming, Mel Gibson was a half-­
foot shorter than Wallace, much slighter of build, and somewhat older. The movie’s
depiction of the ­Battle of Stirling Bridge is also wildly inaccurate, mainly ­because it
features no bridge—­the crucial tactical fulcrum that enabled the Scots to cut off half
the En­glish Army and slaughter t­hose ­enemy troops that made it across the bridge.
Woad, the blue war paint prominently displayed in the film’s ­battle scenes, had not
been used by Scottish warriors since the end of the Roman era, that is, some
800 years before the events depicted in the film. The movie depicts several clans
that comprise Wallace’s army as dressed alike in their representative clan tartans,
but the use of distinctive kilts and tartan patterns did not emerge ­until the Victorian
era, 600 years ­later. Furthermore, many Scots ­were offended by the film’s portrayal
of Robert the Bruce, who is also considered a national hero.

BREAKER MORANT (1980)

Synopsis
Breaker Morant is an Australian war film directed by Bruce Beresford, who also
co-­w rote the screenplay. Based on Kenneth G. Ross’s eponymous play (1978), the
film dramatizes the 1902 court martial of Lts. Harry Morant, Peter Handcock, and
George Witton, Australians serving in the British Army during the Second Anglo-­
Boer War accused of murdering captured ­enemy combatants and an unarmed civil-
ian in the Northern Transvaal.

Background
Since his court-­martial and execution by the British for alleged war crimes com-
mitted during the Boer War, Harry “Breaker” Harbord Morant (1864–1902) has
been an Australian folk hero rivaling the legendary bushranger, Ned Kelly. Morant’s
legend was firmly established in 1907 by Scapegoats of the Empire, an exculpatory
tome written by his surviving co-­defendant, George Witton (1874–1942). In the
1970s the legend was revived in a small way by writer Kit Denton with a novel
based on Morant’s life entitled The Breaker (1973) and by neophyte filmmaker Frank
Shields’ low-­budget documentary, also entitled The Breaker (1974). Of greater cul-
tural impact in Australia was Breaker Morant, a two-­act play by Kenneth G. Ross
that ran at the Athenaeum Theatre in Melbourne in 1978 and was a critical and
commercial success, so much so that Ross turned his play script into a screenplay.
As film historian Graham Daseler notes, filmmaker Bruce Beresford (The Getting of
Wisdom) “had two scripts to work from. One was Ross’s play, the other a screen-
play by David Stevens and Jonathan Hardy. Beresford scrapped both, considering
them each too generous to the defendants, and traveled to the Imperial War Museum
44 BREAKER MORANT

in London to conduct fresh research. ­After he returned, he began his own script,
building his dramatic structure around the trial (as the play had also done) but
widening his field of vision to reveal what Ross, in his stage production, never could:
the interior world of the characters” (Daseler, 2013).

Production
American actor Rod Steiger was Bruce Beresford’s first choice to play Harry “Breaker”
Morant. ­L ater, Australian actor Terence Donovan (who played Morant in the
original stage production) was considered, but Beresford deci­ded he needed a more
famous actor in the role (Donovan was cast as Capt. Simon Hunt). The part ulti-
mately went to En­glish actor Edward Woodward—­a casting choice resented by
some Australian Actors Equity members, even though Woodward bore an uncanny
resemblance to Morant. The Major Thomas role was originally offered to Bryan
Brown before it went to Jack Thompson (Brown ended up playing Lt. Handcock).
Though set in the high veldt of South Africa, Breaker Morant was filmed in and
around Burra, South Australia, on the edge of the ­Great Desert, 100 miles north of
Adelaide. Breaker Morant was made on a shoestring bud­get of 800,000 AUD. The
Australian Film Commission contributed 400,000 AUD, and the South Australia
Film Corporation (SAFC) put up another 250,000 AUD. The remaining funds ­were
provided by Seven Network and PACT Productions and raised privately.

Plot Summary
In 1902, during the Second Boer War, three officers of the Bushveldt Carbineers
(aka BVC, a 320-­man Australian irregular mounted infantry regiment)—­Lieutenants
Harry Morant (Edward Woodward), Peter Handcock (Bryan Brown), and George
Witton (Lewis Fitz-­Gerald)—­are arrested by the British and charged with mur-
dering Boer prisoners-­of-­war and Reverend C.A.D. Heese, a German missionary.
Major Charles Bolton (Rod Mullinar) prosecutes the court-­m artial while Major
J. F. Thomas (Jack Thompson), a solicitor from New South Wales in civilian life, acts
as defense counsel. A ­ fter a number of damning character witnesses testify, Bolton
focuses on the shooting of Floris Visser (Michael Procanin), a wounded Boer pris-
oner, in order to avenge the torture, death, and mutilation of BVC Capt. Simon Hunt
(Terence Donovan), a close friend of Morant. Major Thomas argues that standing
­orders existed to shoot “all Boers captured wearing khaki,” but Morant damages
his own defense by defiant testimony on the witness stand. The next day, Bolton
turns to the shooting of the six Boers. BVC Capt. Alfred Taylor (John ­Waters) tes-
tifies that Lord Kitchener issued ­orders that no more Boer prisoners ­were to be
taken alive. On cross-­examination, Bolton nullifies Taylor’s testimony by forcing
him to admit that he is also awaiting court-­martial for shooting prisoners. Other
witnesses testify that Morant had six Boer guerrillas lined up and shot a­ fter they
had surrendered. Major Thomas demands that Kitchener be summoned. Lt.-­Col.
Denny (Charles “Bud” Tingwell) and Major Bolton try to dissuade Major Thomas
from pressing the m­ atter, but he persists. At any rate, Kitchener has since reversed
himself. Rather than “total war,” he now advocates peace with the Afrikaners—­a
stance necessitating that a few soldiers w ­ ill need to be sacrificed for all the war
BREAKER MORANT 45

crimes committed by the British Army. Kitchener’s surrogate Col. Hamilton (Vin-
cent Ball) takes the stand and denies ever having relayed a take-­no-­prisoners order
from Kitchener to the BVC. The trial then examines the murder of Rev. Heese. ­After
leaving Fort Edward in a horse-­drawn buggy, Heese was l­ater found shot to death
along the road. Bolton accuses Morant of ordering Handcock to kill Heese to pre-
vent him from informing the BVC’s commander of Morant’s plans to kill his Boer
prisoners. On the stand, Morant denies the allegation, as does Handcock, who
claims that he was visiting the homes of two married Afrikaner w ­ omen that day
for sex. Major Thomas produces signed depositions from the w ­ omen to corrobo-
rate Handcock’s alibi. During a lull in the trial, Handcock admits to Witton that
he did indeed shoot Heese before visiting his two lady friends. When Witton asks
if Major Thomas knows, Morant tells him that ­there is no reason for Thomas to
know. Despite an impassioned closing argument by Major Thomas, the defendants
are found guilty of shooting the prisoners but acquitted of murdering Rev. Heese.
The next morning the defendants are sentenced to death, but Witton’s sentence is
commuted to “life in penal servitude.” Major Thomas hurries to Kitchener’s head-
quarters to plead for commutations for Morant and Handcock, only to learn that
Kitchener has already left and that both the British and Australian governments
have publicly affirmed the verdict and sentences. He also learns that a peace confer-
ence is in the offing and that the troops w­ ill soon be g­ oing home. At dawn the next
morning Morant and Handcock are put before a firing squad. Morant, defiant to the
end, refuses the comfort of clergy and a blindfold (as does Handcock). The firing
squad musters as Morant’s poem, “Butchered to Make a Dutchmen’s Holiday,” is
recited in voice-­over. Just before they fire their fatal volley Morant shouts, “Shoot
straight, you bastards! D­ on’t make a mess of it!”

Reception
Breaker Morant proved to be the most popu­lar indigenous movie released in Aus-
tralia up to that time, grossing 4.7 million AUD at the box office (the equivalent of
almost $50 million in 2017 U.S. dollars). ­After screenings at Cannes, the New York
Film Festival, and other venues, the movie received international acclaim, rave
reviews from critics, and 18 AACTA Award nominations, winning 15 of them, plus
an Oscar nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay, a Palme d’Or nomination at
Cannes, and a win at Cannes for Best Supporting Actor (Jack Thompson). Breaker
Morant also inaugurated Bruce Beresford’s ­career as a film director of international
stature and is now recognized as one of the key works of the Australian Film Re­nais­
sance of the 1970s and 1980s.

Reel History Versus Real History


In order to enlist optimal viewer empathy for Morant, Handcock, and Witton,
Breaker Morant alters history in large and small ways. For example, it depicts Lord
Kitchener as demanding convictions for the killing of Rev. Heese so as to appease
Germany and keep it from entering the Boer War on the side of the Afrikaners. In
actuality, Germany did not officially protest the murder of Heese. Though ethni-
cally German, Heese was born in Cape Colony (present-­day South Africa), so he
46 B R I D G E , T H E [ G ER M A N : D I E B R Ü C K E ]

was technically a British subject. Besides misrepresenting the geopo­liti­cal context,


the movie omits the three other defendants who ­were also on trial with Morant,
Handcock, and Witton: Lt. Henry Picton, a British-­born BVC officer, charged with
participating in the shooting of Floris Visser (found guilty of manslaughter and
cashiered from the British Army); Capt. Alfred Taylor, the Irish-­born commander
of military intelligence at Fort Edward, accused of ordering Lt. Handcock to mur-
der B. J. van Buuren, an Afrikaner BVC trooper who had objected to the shooting
of prisoners, also accused of the murder of six unarmed Afrikaners and the theft
of their money and livestock (acquitted on a technicality); and Major Robert W.
Lenehan, the Australian Field Commander of BVC, accused of covering up the mur-
der of Trooper van Buuren (found guilty and reprimanded). Breaker Morant also
mischaracterizes the enlisted men at Fort Edward who testify against Morant,
Handcock, and Witton as British-­born malcontents motivated by personal grudges
against their Australian officers. In real­ity, the 15 enlisted men at Fort Edward who
signed an accusatory letter w ­ ere Australians stirred by genuine disgust for the war
crimes they had personally witnessed. Furthermore, the movie portrays the pros-
ecution as single-­mindedly bloodthirsty while neglecting to note that Morant and
Handcock actually rejected offers of immunity from prosecution if they would agree
to testify against Capt. Taylor and Major Lenehan for issuing take-­no-­prisoners
­orders. The effect of all t­hese changes is to encourage viewers (especially Austra-
lian viewers) to see the defendants as martyrs to British po­liti­cal intrigue and injus-
tice rather than guilty of war crimes, which they most as­suredly w ­ ere. Somewhat
disingenuously, Bruce Beresford has since deplored the fact that Breaker Morant has
been widely misconstrued “as a film about poor Australians who ­were framed by
the Brits.” In a 1999 interview with Australian film critic Peter Malone, Beresford
said, “The film never pretended for a moment that they ­weren’t guilty. It said they
are guilty. But what was in­ter­est­ing about it was that it analyzed why men in this
situation would behave as they had never behaved before in their lives. It’s the pres-
sures that are put to bear on ­people in war time . . . ​That was what I was interested
in examining” (Malone, 1980).

BRIDGE, THE [GERMAN: DIE BRÜCKE] (1959)

Synopsis
Die Brücke (The Bridge) is a West German war film directed by Austrian filmmaker
Bernhard Wicki. Based on an a­ ctual event fictionalized by Gregor Dorfmeister in
a 1958 novel of the same title, the film tells the story of a small squad of German
teen­agers who assume the futile task of defending a bridge against the Allies in the
closing days of World War II in Eu­rope.

Background
­Toward the end of World War II Manfred Gregor Dorfmeister turned 16, so he was
inducted into the Volkssturm (­People’s Army) in his hometown of Bad Tölz, Bavaria,
a resort hamlet about 30 miles south of Munich. On 1 May 1945—­the day ­after
B R I D G E , T H E [ G ER M A N : D I E B R Ü C K E ] 47

Hitler’s suicide and a week before Germany’s surrender—­Dorfmeister and four


other 16-­year-­old draftees w
­ ere ordered to defend a bridge in the forest 12 miles
south of town. The next day American tanks spearheading an advance by the U.S.
141st Infantry Regiment (36th Infantry Division) approached the bridge. The Amer-
icans ­were fired upon by the Volkssturm boys. The lead tank was knocked out
and a crewman badly, perhaps fatally, wounded. In the ensuing firefight, two of
the five German boys w ­ ere killed while Dorfmeister and the other two survivors
of the skirmish fled back to Bad Tölz through the woods. When they arrived in
town a few hours ­later, they ­were ordered by two Feldjägers (military policemen)
to man a machine-­gun nest and defend Tölzer Isar Bridge. ­After the Feldjägers left,
Dorfmeister opted to go home, but his two comrades stayed to fight; they w ­ ere
killed before the town fell to the Americans. Thirteen years ­later, Dorfmeister, writ-
ing u­ nder the pseudonym of Manfred Gregor, expressed lingering feelings of guilt
and grief by writing Die Brücke [The Bridge] (1958), a fictionalized account of the
incident that became a bestseller in West Germany and was translated into 15 lan-
guages. Producers Hermann Schwerin and Jochen Schwerin secured the film rights
and hired Austrian filmmaker Bernhard Wicki to direct a movie version. Wicki and
co­writers Michael Mansfeld and Karl-­Wilhelm Vivier wrote the adaptation.

Production
Die Brücke was shot in black and white in the fall of 1958 at Florian-­Geyer-­Brücke
[Florian Geyer Bridge] (demolished in 1991 and replaced in 1995) and at other loca-
tions in Cham, Bavaria, a town 150 miles northeast of Bad Tölz. None of the three
M24 Chaffee light tanks shown in the movie are real. ­Because the newly formed
Bundeswehr (postwar German Army) still did not have any tanks in 1959, Bern-
hard Wicki had to have wooden models constructed and then placed on top of
truck chassis (the truck wheels can clearly been seen ­under the body of each “tank”).

Plot Summary
In the final days of World War II, U.S. forces close in on a small Bavarian town. In
the town’s school, seven boisterous 16-­year-­old boys are teasing girls, following
the receding ­battle front on a wall map, and reading love passages from Romeo and
Juliet in their En­glish class. Walter Forst (Michael Hinz) is deeply resentful of his
arrogant f­ather (Hans Elwenspoek), the local Nazi Party Ortsgruppenleiter (local
group leader), who has chosen to send his wife away to a safe location and save
himself using the excuse of a Volkssturm meeting. Sigi Bernhard (Günther Hoff-
mann) refuses to let his m ­ other send him out of town to avoid danger. Karl Horber
(Karl Michael Balzer) is infatuated with Barbara (Edeltraut Elsner), his f­ather’s
young assistant at the hair salon, and is bewildered once he sees the two meet-
ing romantically. Klaus Hager (Volker Lechtenbrink) does not notice that his
classmate, Franziska (Cordula Trantow), has feelings for him. Jürgen Borchert
(Frank Glaubrecht), whose ­father was a German soldier who died in ­battle,
strug­gles to do justice to his f­ ather’s legacy. To their surprise, the young men are
assigned to a local army platoon, and they are forced to deploy a­ fter only a sin-
gle day in the barracks. As they prepare to depart, the boys’ teacher asks Fröhlich
48 B R I D G E , T H E [ G ER M A N : D I E B R Ü C K E ]

(Heinz Spitzner), the Kompaniechef (com­pany commander)—­a former teacher


who has just lost his son in action—to keep them out of the war so they ­won’t be
sacrificed pointlessly. The commander assigns the boys to the defense of a local
bridge (slated for de­mo­li­tion anyway), ­under the command of Cpl. Heilmann
(Günter Pfitzmann), a veteran Unteroffizier. The young men hunker down as
Heilmann leaves to alert the de­mo­li­tion squad, but on his way, Heilmann is con-
fused for a deserter by a German patrol and goes into a panic. Instead of commu-
nicating his purpose, he attempts to flee and is shot by the Feldegendarmerie
patrolmen. The boys are thus left on their own, on the bridge, without a way to
contact their unit. The boys decide to remain in position ­until receiving official
­orders to pull back. At dawn an American fighter plane drops a bomb near the
bridge, killing Sigi, who had stubbornly refused to take cover as he had endured
endless mockery for what his friends contended was cowardice. The death of their
friend stuns the boys as they scramble to set up positions against three American
tanks and accompanying troops. Walter uses Panzerfausts to obliterate two of the
tanks, but soon overwhelmed, he is killed in action. Karl kills a G.I., but is imme-
diately the victim of intense machine-­gun fire. Klaus is unable to cope with Karl’s
death and sprints forward into American gunfire. Fi­nally, the last American tank
and remaining soldiers do retreat, and Hans and Albert, the only boys still alive,
realize that they have temporarily stalled the American advance. A German de­mo­
li­tion squadron arrives on the scene, and one of the leading officers chastises the
two remaining boys, sarcastically referring to them as “fools” and “fine heroes.”
Hans goes mad once he sees that his friends have perished for nothing, and he
threatens the German officer. Before the officer can shoot him, Albert fires at
Hans instead. Hans dies in a last round of machine-­g un fire, and Albert goes
home, alone. A single sentence appears before the end credits: “This event occurred
on April 27, 1945. It was so unimportant that it was never mentioned in any war
communique.”

Reception
Released in West Germany on 22 October 1959, Die Brücke won five awards at the
1960 German Film Awards, including Outstanding Feature Film. At the Mar del
Plata Film Festival in Argentina in March 1960, Die Brücke beat out 25 other films
to win Best Film in International Competition and also won the FIPRESCI Prize
(tied with Alfonso Corona Blake’s Verano violento). At the 5th Valladolid Interna-
tional Film Festival in Seminci, Spain (April 1960), the film won the Silver Spike
­ ehind François Truffaut’s The 400 Blows). It also received the
(i.e., second place b
Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Language Film, the National Board of
Review Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and a nomination for the Acad­
emy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (but lost to Marcel Camus’ Black
Orpheus). Not surprisingly, reviews, both con­temporary and more recent, con-
tinue to heap praise on Die Brücke as an exemplary anti-­war film. In the words of
Bosley Crowther, “Withal, Herr Wicki has constructed an intense and compel-
ling film, notable for its cinematic sharpness and its concentrated emotional
drive” (Crowther, 1961).
B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E 49

Reel History Versus Real History


Though based on a real incident as noted earlier, Die Brücke, both the film and the
novel it closely follows, concentrates the action to one bridge, adds two more Volkss-
turm boys, makes them all classmates and friends, provides backstories to par-
ticularize them, and greatly embellishes and complicates the action. All of t­hese
fictional ele­ments w­ ere added on to the original and rather banal incident in order
to attain maximum irony and pathos and to underscore the senseless futility of
the boys’ deaths in a war that was long lost and almost over. De­cades since its
original release, the ersatz tanks and ramping up of melodrama may strike more
sophisticated audiences as somewhat jejune, but Die Brücke still works b ­ ecause its
anti-­war message remains imminently valid. A made-­for-­German-­T V remake of Die
Brücke, directed by Wolfgang Panzer, appeared in 2008 but is widely regarded as
inferior to the original version.

B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E ( 1 9 5 7 )

Synopsis
The Bridge on the River Kwai is a British-­American war epic directed by David Lean
and starring William Holden, Jack Hawkins, and Alec Guinness and featuring
Sessue Hayakawa. Based on the novel Le pont de la Rivière Kwai (1952) by Pierre
Boulle (also the author of Planet of the Apes), the film is fictional but uses the con-
struction of the Burma Railway in 1942–1943 for its historical setting.

Background
A Frenchman working on British rubber plantations in Malaya, Pierre Boulle (1912–
1994) enlisted in the French army when World War II broke out in 1939. In 1941,
a year ­after the fall of France, Boulle served as a secret agent with the re­sis­tance
movement in China, Burma, and French Indochina (Vietnam). In 1943, he was
captured by Vichy loyalists on the Mekong River and spent the rest of the war in
forced l­ abor as a prisoner of war (POW) in Hanoi. In 1949 Boulle returned to France
and wrote Le pont de la Rivière Kwaï (1952; English-­language edition: The Bridge
over the River Kwai, 1954). A fictional story placed in a historical setting, Kwai was
inspired by the building of a bridge, but actually t­ here w­ ere two parallel bridges:
a bypass bridge made of wood (designated Q-654) and another bridge made of steel
and concrete (designated 277)—­and they ­were situated on the less poetically named
Mae Klong River, near the city of Katchanburi, Thailand, in the province of the
same name. ­These bridges w ­ ere erected during the construction of the Burma-­Siam
Railway (aka “Death Railway”), a 415-km (258-­mile) rail link between Bangkok,
Thailand, and Rangoon, Burma, used by the Empire of Japan to move troops and
supplies. More than 180,000 Southeast Asian civilians (“romusha”) and 60,000
Allied POWs w ­ ere conscripted by the Japa­nese to work on the railway and its
bridges. Of that number over 100,000 Asian workers and 12,621 Allied POWs died
during its construction (15 September 1942—17 October 1943). ­After Boulle’s novel
became an international bestseller, Carl Foreman (High Noon), a blacklisted
50 B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E

Co-­stars (from left) Alec Guinness, William Holden, and Jack Hawkins pose in front of
the fabled bridge during the filming of David Lean’s The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957).
(Columbia Pictures/Photofest)

American screenwriter self-­exiled in London, optioned the film rights. American


producer Sam Spiegel (On the Waterfront) was also captivated by Boulle’s book. He
met with Foreman, bought the screen rights for $7,000, and hired him to write an
adaptation for $10,000. Columbia Pictures agreed to finance a film version, and
Spiegel insisted that an American character be added to the script to enhance the
film’s domestic appeal. Spiegel then considered vari­ous directors: Fred Zinnemann,
Howard Hawks, William Wyler, John Ford, Carol Reed, and Orson Welles. All
­either turned down the assignment or ­were rejected by Spiegel. Katherine Hep-
burn recommended David Lean (In Which We Serve), a British “art h ­ ouse” director
who had yet to make a Hollywood wide-­screen epic. Spiegel hired him in Febru-
ary 1956. Lean read Foreman’s script and disliked it intensely, feeling it strayed
too far from the spirit of Boulle’s novel. Inevitably, friction developed between
Foreman and Lean as they tried to work out a new version of the script in the
ensuing months. In the meantime Spiegel, Lean, and Jack Hildyard, Lean’s cinema-
tographer, scouted the ­actual bridge location in Siam (as Thailand was then called)
but rejected it as too remote for a large-­scale movie production. The bridge site they
eventually chose was located on the Masleliya Oya, a tributary of the Kelani Ganga
River near Kitulga, Ceylon (present-­day Sri Lanka). An abandoned stone quarry
B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E 51

near Mahara, eight miles northeast of Colombo, the capital city, was chosen for
the site of the POW camp (in the film, it is adjacent to the bridge). In 1956 hun-
dreds of Sinhalese workers, assisted by 48 elephants, built the camp’s numerous
bamboo huts and then undertook the construction of the wooden trestle bridge
itself. An enormous structure 425 feet long and 90 feet high, built from locally
harvested timber, the bridge was completed in January 1957 at a cost of $52,085.
In the end, ­after five months of troubled collaboration on the script, Lean fired
Foreman in late June  1956. Sam Spiegel then brought in screenwriter Calder
Willingham (Paths of Glory), but ­after just two weeks of trying to work with Lean,
Willingham quit. In early September Spiegel sent a third screenwriter to Ceylon:
Michael Wilson (Friendly Persuasion). The third time was the charm; Wilson and
Lean began to produce a workable script but then another prob­lem emerged. Lean
initially wanted Charles Laughton for the key role of British Lt. Col. Nicholson but
Laughton was in poor shape—­simply too fat to play a half-­starved POW. A ­ fter
much cajoling by Lean, Alec Guinness took the part. Spiegel wanted Cary Grant
to play Shears but Lean, who preferred William Holden, prevailed. A big star ­after
his Oscar win for Stalag 17 (1953), Holden commanded top dollar; he signed a
$300,000 contract that also guaranteed 10  ­percent of the box office receipts, a
payout that ultimately amounted to $3.9 million ($34 million in 2017 dollars). For
the role of Col. Saito, the Japa­nese camp commandant, Lean coaxed 68-­year-­old
Sessue Hayakawa out of retirement. Both British and Japa­nese military advisors
­were also hired to ensure a reasonable degree of authenticity.

Production
­After a 10-­month pre-­production phase, principal photography took more than 8
months (November 1956–­May 1957) in the jungle in high heat and humidity—­a
grueling shoot made even more unpleasant by Lean’s imperious directorial methods
that alienated most of the cast and crew, especially Alec Guinness. The crucial
moment of the production—­the filming of the bridge being blown up—­was sup-
posed to take place on Sunday, 10 March 1957. Unfortunately, cameraman Freddy
Ford forgot to signal that he had made it to safety ­after setting his camera, forcing
Lean to abort the take. With the explosion called off, the train (a steam locomotive
and six cars) proceeded across the bridge unimpeded. It ended up bursting through
a sand barrier and then crashing into a generator on the far side of the bridge. The
train was not damaged but it was derailed. Put back on the tracks with the assis-
tance of elephants, the train was soon returned to its starting point. The next morn-
ing the bridge was successfully blown sky high, pitching the train into the river, as
planned—­a spectacular scene witnessed by S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, Prime Minister
of Ceylon, and other government dignitaries. Afterward, a second near-­catastrophe
occurred when all the film footage of the bridge explosion dis­appeared in transit
from Ceylon to London. Ordinarily, the film would have been sent to London by
sea, but the Suez Crisis necessitated air freight shipment instead. When the film
canisters failed to arrive in London, a frantic worldwide search was undertaken. A
week l­ater the film was discovered, sitting in the sun on an airport tarmac in Cairo.
Almost miraculously, none of the footage had been damaged by the intense heat.
52 B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E

Plot Summary
In early 1943, World War II British captives are brought to a Japa­nese POW camp
in Burma. The man in charge, Col. Saito (Sessue Hayakawa), tells the captives that
they ­w ill be constructing a rail bridge over the River Kwai in order to link Bang-
kok with Rangoon. The head British official, Lt. Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness),
tries to avoid the manual l­abor by citing examples from the Geneva Conventions,
but the next morning, all enlisted soldiers are forced to report to work. Nicholson
tells his own officers to stay ­behind in protest, and Saito warns that he ­w ill have
the men executed should they refuse their work o­ rders. Nicholson does not budge.
Major Clipton (James Donald), a British medical officer, steps in, threatening Saito
by saying that he c­ an’t kill an entire group of officers with so many witnesses. Furi-
ous, Saito punishes the men by leaving them to stand outside for the day, amidst
the unbearable heat. When night falls, the disobedient officers are confined to a
punishment hut and Nicholson is confined to a locked iron box. In the meantime,
U.S. Navy Commander Shears (William Holden) breaks ­free from the camp. Despite
his injuries, he finds a nearby village whose residents help him to escape via boat.
Back at the camp, the POWs work as slowly and in­effec­tively as pos­si­ble in order
to undermine the Japa­nese captors, knowing that if Saito is unable to build the
bridge by his assigned deadline, he ­w ill be forced to commit ritual suicide. In a
play to save his own life, Saito creates an excuse for the delay by proclaiming a
general amnesty to celebrate the Japa­nese victories in the Russo-­Japanese War,
which releases the British soldiers from their work. Nicholson uses the reprieve to
look over his men’s work and is appalled to find that they have been ­doing such a
poor job. While some of his fellow squad members rail against him, Nicholson
works with Capt. Reeves (Peter Williams) and Major Hughes (John Boxer) to plan
and execute the creation of a sturdy, working bridge in order to bolster his unit’s
confidence and morale. The men choose a better site for the bridge downstream.
Meanwhile, the escaped Shears recuperates in a hospital bed, cared for by a stead-
fast nurse (Ann Sears), when British Major Warden (Jack Hawkins) arrives and tells
him that the United States Navy has commissioned him to join three other British
soldiers to obliterate the bridge being built by his comrades before they can com-
plete construction. Shears is hesitant at first, but upon hearing that he can retain
an officer’s title, eventually agrees to “volunteer” for the mission. Back at the river,
Nicholson encourages his unit to complete the construction of the bridge by their
intended deadline to prove the dedication and hard work of the British Army. Three
paratroopers survive the jump and arrive at the drop point, and Warden, Shears,
and Canadian Lt. Joyce (Geoffrey Horne) get to the river before the bridge is put
into active use. In the dark, Shears and Joyce rig the bridge towers with explosives
beneath the w ­ ater line. The men then wait to blow up the bridge u ­ ntil the next
day, when a train full of ­enemy soldiers and dignitaries are scheduled to cross it
by train. The next morning, the three soldiers panic when they notice that the ­water
level has gone down, leaving the wires from their explosives in plain sight. Nich-
olson sees the exposed wire and tells Saito, and the two run down to the bridge to
examine it. Joyce, who stands by the detonator, runs out and brutally kills Saito
with a knife. In shock, Nicholson calls for backup and wrestles Joyce to the ground
B R I D G E O N T H E R I V E R K WA I , T H E 53

to stop him from detonating the bomb. Joyce informs Nicholson that he is also a
British officer and was sent to eliminate the bridge. Joyce is killed by the Japa­nese,
and Shears is fatally shot while swimming across the river. Nicholson recognizes
his friend and exclaims, “What have I done?” Warden fires his mortar at Nichol-
son, who then throws himself on the detonator just in time to blow up the bridge
that he has just completed and watch the train careen into the river.

Reception
The Bridge on the River Kwai had its world premiere in London on 2 October 1957
and opened in the United States on 14 December 1957. With its catchy theme song
(“Col­o­nel Bogey March”), exotic setting, engrossing story, and stunning wide-­screen
cinematography, the movie was a huge commercial success, posting $33.3 million
($290 million in 2017 dollars) in worldwide box office receipts against a $3 million
production bud­get. Nominated for eight Oscars, it won seven: Best Picture (Sam
Spiegel); Best Director (David Lean); Best Actor (Alec Guinness); Best Adapted
Screenplay (Michael Wilson, Carl Foreman, and Pierre Boulle); Best M ­ usic, Scor-
ing (Malcolm Arnold); Best Film Editing (Peter Taylor); and Best Cinematography
(Jack Hildyard). The movie also won three BAFTAs, three Golden Globes, three
New York Film Critics Circle Awards, and a Grammy. With few exceptions,
con­temporary American reviews tended to be extravagant, for example, Bosley
Crowther’s: “Brilliant is the word, and no other, to describe the quality of skills
that have gone into the making of this picture, from the writing of the script out
of a novel by the Frenchman Pierre Boulle, to direction, per­for­mance, photograph-
ing, editing and application of a musical score” (Crowther, 1957). British critics
­were typically more circumspect in their appraisal. For example, the anonymous
reviewer for The Times wrote, “When one remembers A Walk in the Sun, or even
The Red Badge of Courage [Bridge on the River Kwai] is no masterpiece . . . ​­There is
too much suspicion of appeal to a world market for distribution, too g­ reat a readi-
ness to be deflected by the sirens of Cinemascope and Technicolor, although ­these
are splendidly exploited at times” (2 October 1957).

Real History Versus Reel History


­Actual conditions u ­ nder which Allied POWs toiled w ­ ere infinitely worse than what
is depicted in the film, and the real bridges took far longer to build. The film’s more
egregious inaccuracy, though, is its depiction of the British POW commander. Julie
Summers, the grand­daughter of Nicholson’s real-­life counterpart, Lt. Col. (­later
Brigadier) Sir Philip John Denton Toosey (1904–1975), reports that when her grand­
father “first saw the film and he saw the ridicu­lous stormy row between Saito and
Nicholson, he turned round to his ­daughter and he said, ‘That was never like that.
You could never have confronted the Japa­nese and caused them to lose face. That
would have been fatal, I would not have survived’ ” (quoted by Summers, 2012).
Once Lt. Col. Nicholson bends Saito to his w ­ ill, Nicholson’s nationalistic hubris
drives him to unwittingly collaborate with the Japa­nese by building them an
excellent railway bridge in rec­ord time. This, also, is far from the historical truth.
Lt. Col. Toosey was not confrontational, but he was no collaborationist e­ ither
54 B R I D G E T O O FA R , A

(a characterization fabricated by Pierre Boulle to cast aspersions on traitors with


France’s Vichy government). In fact, Toosey was much the opposite, ­doing every­
thing in his power to protect his men while surreptitiously delaying and sabotag-
ing construction. For example, he had his men collect and deploy large numbers
of termites to eat away at wooden bridge structures and saw to it that the concrete
was mixed poorly. Likewise, the movie’s depiction of Saito also slanders his real-­
life counterpart—­a Japa­nese officer at the camp named Risaburo Saito, who was
actually a sergeant-­major, second in command, and not at all like Sessue Hay-
akawa’s Col. Saito. Indeed, the real Saito had g­ reat re­spect for Lt. Col. Toosey and
was, by all accounts, an unusually humane guard. The movie also erroneously
portrays the Japa­nese as incapable of proper bridge design and in need of British
expertise. In real­ity, the Japa­nese army had excellent engineers. At the end of
the movie the wooden bridge is destroyed by commandos almost immediately
­after its completion. In actuality, the wooden bridge was bombed and rebuilt seven
times between 1943 and 1945. Completed on 1 May 1943, the concrete and steel
bridge (Bridge 277) remained intact more than for two years, ­until it was destroyed
in June 1945 by B-24 liberators from the U.S. 458th Heavy Bombardment Group.
As reparations ­after the war, the Japa­nese rebuilt the bridge, which still stands
­today.

B R I D G E T O O FA R , A ( 1 9 7 7 )

Synopsis
A Bridge Too Far is a World War II epic based on the 1974 book of the same title by
Cornelius Ryan. Produced by Joseph E. and Richard P. Levine, adapted by Wil-
liam Goldman, and directed by Richard Attenborough, the film tells the story of
the failure of Operation Market Garden, an ambitious Allied attempt to seize several
bridges in the occupied Netherlands in order to outflank German defenses and
end the war in Eu­rope by Christmas of 1944.

Background
On 17 September 1974 Simon & Schuster published A Bridge Too Far, a 672-­page
epic by WWII historian Cornelius Ryan (The Longest Day) that recounted the story
of Operation Market Garden (17–25 September 1944), Field Marshall Montgom-
ery’s failed attempt to hasten the end of the war by landing paratroopers ­behind
German lines in the Nazi-­occupied Netherlands in a bid to outflank the Siegfried
Line and reach the Rhine. Published on the 30th anniversary of Market Garden,
Ryan’s magisterial tome garnered glowing reviews and earned over a million dol-
lars in sales. Sadly, its author did not survive long ­after his final success; he died
from prostate cancer five weeks ­after publication—­but not before expressing the
wish to movie mogul Joseph E. Levine that it be made into a film. Not affiliated
with a studio, Levine raised money by selling advance distribution rights, but even-
tually put in $10 million of his own money. Riskier still, pre-­production planning
was done without a script; William Goldman’s adaptation would not be completed
­until November 1975.
B R I D G E T O O FA R , A 55

Production
During the film’s 16-­month pre-­production phase, Levine hired Geoffrey Unsworth
as his cinematographer and Richard Attenborough to direct (though Attenborough
had directed only two films, both flops: a WWI-­era musical and a biopic on Win-
ston Churchill). Levine’s production team put together a formidable air fleet: 11
WWII-­era C-47 Dakota transport planes (from Portugal, Djibouti, Denmark, and
Finland); 4 T-6 Texan/SNJ/Harvard fighter planes, an Auster III, and a Spitfire Mk
IX. Levine also secured an international all-­star cast that would rival the all-­star
cast of The Longest Day (1963)—­Dirk Bogarde, James Caan, Michael Caine, Sean
Connery, Edward Fox, Elliott Gould, Anthony Hopkins, Gene Hackman, Hardy
Krüger, Ryan O’Neal, Laurence Olivier, Robert Redford, Maximilian Schell, and
Liv Ullmann—­for the film’s 14 featured roles. Levine’s first choice to play Kate Ter
Horst (Ullmann’s role) was Audrey Hepburn, who was a 15-­year-­old girl living in
the Netherlands during Market Garden, but Hepburn’s agent asked for $750,000
for six days work—­too much even for Levine. Steve McQueen also wanted too
much money: $3 million for three days work. Location shooting in Holland lasted
the six months that weather conditions w ­ ere favorable, starting in April 1976 and
wrapping in October. In Attenborough’s capable hands, the movie came in on
schedule and u­ nder bud­get. It premiered on 15 June 1977, which was Levine’s tar-
get date from the outset—­a remarkable feat for a large-­scale proj­ect employing
130 actors and hundreds of extras, 100 technicians, airplanes, tanks, and numer-
ous other vehicles used in lengthy, large-­scale, pre-­CGI combat sequences.

Plot Summary
Concocted by British Field Marshall Bernard Montgomery, Operation Market Gar-
den prescribed a combined airborne (“Market”) and ground (“Garden”) assault, a
plan calling for 35,000 paratroopers to be flown from bases in ­England and dropped
­behind e­ nemy lines in the Netherlands. Their mission is to secure bridges along a
north-­south road and hold them for 48 hours so that an armored column advanc-
ing north from the Allied frontline in Belgium ­w ill be able to reach Arnhem, 100
kilo­meters (60 miles) deep into German-­held territory. The British 1st Airborne
Division, commanded by Maj.-­Gen. Roy Urquhart (Sean Connery), supported by
a Polish airborne brigade ­under Gen. Stanisław Sosabowski (Gene Hackman),
is to land in drop zones east and west of Arnhem and to secure both sides of the
bridge ­there. Farther south, the U.S. 82nd Airborne Division u
­ nder Brig. Gen. James
Gavin (Ryan O’Neill) is to land near Nijmegen and secure its bridge and approaches.
The U.S. 101st Airborne Division u ­ nder Maj. Gen. Maxwell Taylor (Paul Maxwell)
is tasked with securing the road and bridges around Eindhoven. The XXX Armoured
Corps ­under Lt. Gen. Brian Horrocks (Edward Fox) is to advance north, cross the
bridges captured by the American paratroopers, and reach Arnhem two days ­after
the drop. When Gen. Urquhart briefs his officers, some of them balk at landing so
far from their objective (up to 13 kilo­meters, to avoid German anti-­aircraft fire),
but Urquhart assures them that German re­sis­tance in the area w ­ ill be negligible—­
despite the fact that recon photos and reports from the Dutch re­sis­tance indicate
panzers near Arnhem. Lt. Gen. Frederick Browning (Dirk Bogarde) ignores t­ hese
reports b­ ecause he is not willing to contravene Montgomery. In a similar fashion,
56 B R I D G E T O O FA R , A

British officers quash reports that the portable radios used by the paratroopers ­w ill
prob­ably not work across the long distances from the drop zones to the Arnhem
Bridge. The airborne drops on 17 September 1944 go well, but the Son Bridge near
Eindhoven is blown up by the Germans just before the 101st Airborne can get to
it. Stiff German re­sis­tance, the narrowness of the sometimes raised road (dubbed
“Hell’s Highway”), and the need to construct a Bailey bridge all combine to stymie
the advance of the XXX Corps. At Nijmegen, units of the 82nd Airborne cross the
Waal River in canvas-­and-­wood assault boats u ­ nder withering fire. Eventually the
bridge is captured. At Arnhem the situation begins to deteriorate. As predicted,
the radios are useless, and many of the jeeps needed to quickly reach the Arnhem
Bridge never arrive by glider or are destroyed in action. The Germans overrun the
British supply drop zones and launch an armored attack over the bridge being held
at one end by British units ­under the command of Lt. Col. John Frost (Anthony
Hopkins). The British manage to hold their positions but incur mounting casual-
ties. Delayed by ground fog in ­England, Sosabowski’s men join the ­battle too late
to reinforce the British. ­A fter days of fierce house-­to-­house fighting, Urquhart’s
lightly armed troops are forced to surrender or retreat with staggering losses. When
Urquhart returns to British HQ, he confronts Browning about the fiasco that
was Market Garden and Browning sheepishly replies, “Well, as you know, I always
felt we tried to go a bridge too far.” In the final scene, a Dutch ­woman (Liv Ullmann)
abandons her badly damaged home, which was used as a hospital by the British.
Passing through the front yard, which has been converted into a makeshift
graveyard, she and her ­children walk along the high riverbank with her ­father,
an el­derly doctor (Laurence Olivier), pushing some sal­vaged h ­ ouse­hold items in
a wheelbarrow.

Reception
Posting $50.7 million in ticket sales against a $27 million production bud­get, A
Bridge Too Far did well at the box office—­but for a three-­hour WWII epic with an
outsized cast of A-­list movie stars, not as well as was hoped. Ignored at Oscar time,
the movie drew mixed reviews from critics. Typical is the judgment of Vincent
Canby, who found A Bridge “massive, shapeless, often unexpectedly moving, con-
fusing, sad, vivid and very, very long” (Canby, 16 June 1977). As Canby notes, the
sheer length and complexity of the film—­lots of cross-­cutting between disparate
locales and too many players to allow for much character development (or viewer
identification)—­doubtless left audiences shell-­shocked. Furthermore, the movie
did something that few war films dare: it recounted an Allied military disaster of
epic proportions, which was depressing fare for a film genre that usually serves up
triumphalist scenarios.

Reel History Versus Real History


Allowing for the usual streamlining to achieve narrative coherence, William Gold-
man’s script closely follows Cornelius Ryan’s painstaking account of Market Gar-
den. Accordingly, A Bridge Too Far achieves a high degree of historical accuracy.
Inaccuracies tend to be minor. Some paratroopers are shown jumping “clean
B R I D G E T O O FA R , A 57

fatigue,” that is, without weapons or equipment; the parachutes used are of a type
not available in 1944; the 2nd SS Panzer Corps is referred to as the 2nd SS Panzer
Division, ­etc. (Murray, 2013, pp. 14–18). Curiously, Market Garden’s architect, Field
Marshall Montgomery, is not depicted in the film, though he is quoted by Lt. Gen.
Browning as judging Market Garden “90 ­percent successful”—­a patently ridicu­lous
claim. Browning’s statement about “a bridge too far” was actually made during the
planning stages, not ­after the b
­ attle, as depicted in the film.
C
C A S U A LT I E S O F WA R ( 1 9 8 9 )

Synopsis
Casualties of War is an American war crime drama directed by Brian De Palma and
starring Michael J. Fox and Sean Penn. The screenplay by David Rabe is based on
the Incident on Hill 192 during the Vietnam War: the 1966 kidnapping, gang rape,
and murder of a Viet­nam­ese w­ oman by four American soldiers, who w­ ere subse-
quently court-­martialed and convicted, based on the damning testimony of the fifth
member of the squad who refused to participate.

Background
On 18–19 November 1966, during the Vietnam War, four members of Charlie
Com­pany, 2nd Battalion (Airborne), 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Divi-
sion, kidnapped a 21-­year-­old Viet­n am­ese w­ oman named Phan Thi Mao, gang-­
raped her, and then murdered her. Pfc. Robert M. Storeby, the fifth member of
the squad, refused to participate. Despite threats to his own life, Storeby reported
the atrocity to superiors and ultimately testified against his brothers-­in-­arms,
which resulted in their being court-­martialed, dishonorably discharged, and receiv-
ing prison terms from eight years to life in prison. What became known as the
“Incident on Hill 192” gained notoriety a­ fter journalist Daniel Lang published an
exhaustive 29,000-­word account entitled “Casualties of War” in The New Yorker
(18 October 1969), subsequently published as a slim paperback with the same title.
West German filmmaker Michael Verhoeven’s 79-­minute Brechtian docudrama
based on the incident (and rather cryptically entitled O.K.) appeared the following
year. (When it was listed for competition at the 1970 Berlin Film Festival, the
jury president, American director George Stevens, resigned ­after failing to have
the film excluded as anti-­American. In the ensuing row, the entire jury resigned
without bestowing any prizes.) Also in 1970, producer David Susskind bought the
film rights for Warner Bros. The studio hired Jack Clayton to direct and journalist
Pete Hamill to write a script but Hamill’s script was rejected, and the film did not
materialize. In 1979, when Susskind tried to revive the proj­ect for ABC-­T V—­
again without success—­playwright David Rabe mentioned it to Brian De Palma,
who had read Lang’s New Yorker article a de­cade earlier and had been haunted by
it. De Palma wanted to make the picture but could not secure studio backing. By
1985 Rabe had written a new script, and Michael J. Fox and Sean Penn had signed
on as actors—­almost enough impetus to attract financing from Paramount but not
quite. ­After the resounding box office success of Vietnam War films—­Coming Home
C A S U A L T I E S O F WA R 59

(1978), The Deer Hunter (1978), Apocalypse Now (1979), Platoon (1986), and Full Metal
Jacket (1987)—­and with De Palma a hot director a­ fter scoring a major hit with The
Untouchables (1987), Dawn Steel (Columbia’s new studio head) green-­lit the proj­
ect, confident that it, too, would be a moneymaker.

Production
Except for bookend scenes shot in San Francisco, Casualties of War was filmed on
location in Thailand from late March to early July 1988. To achieve verisimilitude
De Palma’s technical advisor (also Oliver Stone’s advisor on Platoon), Vietnam
Marine veteran Dale Dye (who also has a small part in the film) had the actors eat
C-­rations, sent them on forced marches carry­ing M-60 machine guns or an M-79
grenade launcher, and had them learn to fieldstrip their M-16 ­r ifles for the first
two weeks on location. Ubiquitous snakes, insects, and the intense tropical heat
and humidity made the four-­month shoot a grueling experience.

Plot Summary
Most of the film unfolds as the flashback-­nightmare of Max Eriksson (Michael J.
Fox), a Vietnam veteran who falls asleep on a Muni Metro train in San Francisco.
On nighttime patrol, Lt. Reilly’s (Ving Rhames) platoon is attacked by the Viet Cong
­after a soldier panics and exposes their position. Soon thereafter Eriksson walks
over an abandoned Viet Cong tunnel. It collapses, trapping him. He is rescued by
his squad leader, Sgt. Tony Meserve (Sean Penn). While on break near a river vil-
lage in the Central Highlands, the unit comes ­under fire, and one of Meserve’s
friends, the squad’s radio operator Spec 4 “Brownie” Brown (Erik King), is fatally
wounded, a death that deeply affects Meserve. Back at their barracks at Wolfe Base,
Pfc. Antonio Dìaz (John Leguizamo) arrives as Brownie’s replacement. Sent back
out on a long-­range recon patrol, an embittered Meserve ­orders the squad to kid-
nap a Viet­nam­ese girl for sex. Eriksson tries to dissuade his comrades, but Meserve,
Cpl. Thomas E. Clark (Don Patrick Harvey), and Pfc. Herbert Hatcher (John C.
Reilly) ignore him. ­After sunset, the troops kidnap a young Viet­nam­ese villa­ger
named Than Thi Oahn (Thuy Thu Le) and take her with them on patrol. The squad
­later shelters in an abandoned hooch where Meserve, Clark, and Hatcher confront
Erikkson and Dìaz, pressuring them to join in the victimization of Than. To pla-
cate the ­others Dìaz decides to go along with the rape. Erikkson, now outnum-
bered four to one, is asked to stand guard while the other squad members rape
Than. At dawn, Erikkson is left to watch over Than while the other troops posi-
tion themselves by a railroad bridge near a Viet Cong river supply depot. Erikkson
decides to go against his ­orders and bring Than back to her ­family, but Meserve
sends Clark to get Erikkson and Than, thus thwarting Erikkson’s plan. Meserve
commands Dìaz to radio for air support so that the squad can attack the depot
and then goes a step further by ordering Dìaz to stab Than to death. To rescue
Than, Eriksson fires his weapon and gives away their position to ­enemy combat-
ants. During the ­battle that follows, Than and Eriksson attempt to flee, but Meserve
takes down Eriksson with his gun. Eriksson is left to watch, helpless, as his squad
members exterminate Than and leave her to fall off of the bridge. Following the
60 C A S U A L T I E S O F WA R

firefight, Eriksson awakens in a field hospital and relays his story to a friend, Rowan
(Jack Gwaltney). Rowan encourages Erikkson to relay his story to their superiors,
Lt. Reilly and the com­pany commander, Capt. Hill (Dale Dye). However, rather
than take corrective action, both Reilly and Hill choose to sweep the situation u ­ nder
the carpet and reassign Erikkson to a position digging tunnels. The other four
squad members are split up and reassigned to other units as well. L ­ ater that eve­ning
­after Clark tries to “frag” (assassinate) him, Eriksson, armed with a shovel, con-
fronts Meserve and his men, who back off. A ­ fter Eriksson meets with Capt. Kirk
(Sam Robards), a chaplain, and tells him the story of Than’s grim fate, an investiga-
tion is launched and the four men involved in Than’s rape and murder are court-­
martialed. Clark is sentenced to life in prison, Hatcher receives 15 years hard
­labor, Meserve receives 10 years hard l­abor, and Dìaz receives 8 years. At the end of
the film, Eriksson awakens from his Vietnam flashback still on the train he was rid-
ing at the outset of the film. Seated nearby is a Viet­nam­ese American student who
resembles Than. She leaves b ­ ehind a scarf as she disembarks at Dolores Park, and
Eriksson runs a­ fter her to return it. She thanks him politely and turns away and
adds that he’s had a bad dream as he gazes thoughtfully over a peaceful scene.

Reception
In 1,487 theaters by mid-­August 1989, Casualties of War grossed $5.2 million at
the box office the first week of its release but quickly faded. If audiences ­were
expecting a rousing war picture, they got anti-­war gothic horror instead. Ultimately
the movie was not profitable; it earned only $18.7 million but cost $22.5 million
to make and prob­ably another $5 to $10 million to market: a net loss of at least
$9 million, perhaps more. Reviews ­were largely positive but Casualties ignited pro-
tests by some Vietnam veterans’ groups, who judged it an exploitative work that
perpetuated popu­lar ste­reo­types of Vietnam soldiers as rapists and murderers
(Kastor, 1989, C1). Adding some credibility to their claims, screenwriter David Rabe
disassociated himself from the movie, citing “creative differences” with De Palma,
prob­ably having to do with fabricated action scenes not in the original source
material and a concocted “happy ending.”

Reel History Versus Real History


Except for the victim’s name, which is correctly reported, Daniel Lang used fic-
tional names throughout his account of the Incident on Hill 192. The movie ver-
sion uses Lang’s pseudonyms with a few slight variations (e.g., Sven Eriksson, the
Robert Storeby character, becomes Max Eriksson). It also gets the kernel of the story
right: the five-­day recon patrol, the abandoned hooch, the rape and murder of a
Viet­nam­ese peasant girl, the one righ­teous dissenter and witness, the initial reluc-
tance to prosecute, the subsequent court-­martial (actually ­there ­were four), and the
sentencing. But Casualties of War also resorts to considerable embellishment and
omission in its rendition of the events. In real­ity Storeby was not rescued from a
hole by his squad leader (whose real name was Sgt. David E. Gervase). The squad’s
radioman was not killed. In actuality Gervase and his men did not make a spur-­
of-­the-­moment decision in the midst of a firefight to kill their victim; they planned
C O M E A N D S E E [ RUSS I A N : I D I I S M O T R I ] 61

to kill her from the outset. Other circumstances surrounding the rape and murder
of Phan Thi Mao are also fictionalized. The assault on the riverside supply depot
is entirely fictional and quite absurd; an attack on a key ­enemy position by a four-­
man squad, ushered in by he­li­cop­ter airstrikes, is tactically preposterous. As the
movie depicts, Mao was stabbed and then shot, but in the bushes off a hillside trail
as she tried to crawl away, not from a cinematically spectacular bridge. Storeby’s
squad mates did not try to kill him afterwards, nor did he assert his manliness by
fending them off; they ­were not allowed access to him ­after allegations ­were filed.
Fi­nally the film omits the fact that Storeby faced intense harassment by defense
attorneys during the courts-­martial, and all the sentences handed down ­were dras-
tically reduced on appeal.

COME AND SEE [RUSSIAN: IDI I SMOTRI] (1985)

Synopsis
Come and See is a Soviet war drama directed by Elem Klimov, with a screenplay by
Klimov and Ales Adamovich, starring Aleksei Kravchenko and Olga Mironova. Set
during the German occupation of Byelorus­sia during the Second World War, the
film follows a traumatized young boy as he witnesses a series of Nazi atrocities.

Background
As a teenager Ales Adamovich (1927–1994) fought with Belarusian partisans against
the Nazis in World War II. Some 25 years ­after the war ended, Adamovich and
fellow writers Yanka Bryl and Vladimir Kolesnik visited the sites of many of the
628 Belarusian villages that had been razed by the Nazis a­ fter the German defeat
at Sta­lin­grad in 1943. Gathering firsthand accounts by survivors, the trio published
a compilation of t­ hose stories entitled Ya iz Pylayushchey Derevni [I Am from the Burn-
ing Village] (1972). Adamovich also published Khatyn (1971), a novel based on the
same topic. Commissioned by Goskino USSR, the Soviet state cinema agency, to
make a film that would commemorate the “­Great Victory” of 1945, Rus­sian film-
maker Elem Klimov (1933–2003) collaborated with Ales Adamovich to write a
screenplay about the Nazi genocide in Belorus­sia (present-­day Belarus), based pri-
marily on Adamovich’s novel. Pyotr Masherov, First Secretary of the Communist
Party of Belarus, himself a partisan veteran, was highly supportive of Klimov’s film.
However, just before filming was slated to begin in Minsk in 1977, state censors
led by Goskino Vice President Boris Pavlenok and film critic Dal Orlov demanded
drastic screenplay revisions that Klimov refused to make. In the face of official
intransigence Klimov suffered a ner­vous breakdown but persisted. A ­ fter seven years
of intensive lobbying, Soviet cinema bureaucrats fi­nally capitulated and authorized
production in 1984. The only change that Klimov had to make was to alter the
title, from “Kill Hitler” to Come and See, a phrase derived from the New Testament
Revelation of St. John the Divine 6:1: “And I saw when the Lamb opened one of
the seals, and I heard, as it ­were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts [of the
Apocalypse] saying, Come and see.”
62 C O M E A N D S E E [ RUSS I A N : I D I I S M O T R I ]

Production
Come and See was shot in sequence over a period of nine months in 1984. To achieve
maximum realism Klimov employed lots of Steadicam shots and often loaded
the guns used in the film with live ammunition, as opposed to blanks. Aleksey
Kravchenko, the 13-­year-­old nonactor who played Flyora, mentions in interviews
that bullets sometimes passed just millimeters above his head in certain scenes.
Worried that the extreme rigors of the shoot might drive Kravchenko mad, Klimov
tried unsuccessfully to have the boy hypnotized to inoculate him emotionally. As it
was, Kravchenko stayed sane but returned to school thin and prematurely grey.

Plot Summary
In 1943 two Belorus­sian boys, hoping to join the Soviet partisan forces, dig up a
battlefield for abandoned weapons. One of the boys, Flyora (Aleksey Kravchenko),
finds a r­ ifle. The next day he is conscripted but when the partisans move on, their
commander, Kosach (Liubomiras Laucevičius), ­orders Flyora to stay ­behind. Upset
and angry, Flyora enters the refugee camp and encounters Glasha (Olga Miron-
ova), an attractive but demented ­woman in love with Kosach who thinks that Fly-
ora is Kosach. Suddenly the camp is shelled (shattering Flyora’s ear­drums) and
then attacked by German paratroopers. Flyora and Glasha hide themselves in the
woods, then flee to Flyora’s ­house only to find it empty. Flyora refuses to think his
­family killed, so he instead convinces himself that they have sought refuge in an
island across from the bog. Fleeing the village, Glasha spies a pile of half-­naked
corpses in a pile ­behind the ­house, but chooses not to inform Flyora. At first Fly-
ora is incapable of accepting the truth, but an encounter with other villa­gers who
have run from the Nazis leaves him convinced that his ­family is actually dead. Fly-
ora blames himself, but a partisan named Roubej (Vladas Bagdonas) helps him to
move forward and search for food. At sunset, Roubej and Flyora steal a cow from
a Nazi-­occupied village, but Roubej and the stolen cow are shot by Germans as
they run across a field. Flyora attempts to steal a h ­ orse and cart, but the owner of
the cart stops him but then decides to assist the thief by helping him to obtain
false identification. Their plans are interrupted when a German einsatzkommando
[mobile killing squad] arrives and surrounds the village. Flyora tries to alert the
townsfolk of the impending attack, but he is rounded up by the German soldiers.
Flyora exits the church by jumping out a high win­dow, but is caught and forced to
watch as Wehrmacht soldiers light the church building on fire with the villa­gers
locked inside. A German soldier then puts a gun to Flyora’s head for a photo­graph.
Flyora leaves the village and discovers that partisan soldiers have surprised the Ger-
mans in a counterattack. ­After retrieving his coat and weapon, Flyora encounters a
bloodied w ­ oman who is dazed ­after being raped and sees that his comrades have
successfully imprisoned 11 Germans and their associates. The associates cover the
German soldiers with gasoline, but the partisan soldiers shoot the Germans before
the fire is lit. As the partisan forces depart, Flyora finds a portrait of Adolf Hitler in
a puddle. In a surreal sequence, Flyora shoots at the picture, causing time to unwind
in reverse and all the horrors of the war to be undone. The film ends with Flyora
joining the other partisan soldiers in their march through the forest in the snow.
COURAGE U
­ NDER FIRE 63

Reception
Come and See was a box office smash in the Soviet Union, racking up a phenome-
nal 28.9 million admissions. The film won the Golden Prize at the 14th Moscow
Film International Festival and the FIPRESCI [International Federation of Film
Critics] Award. It also garnered high praise from film critics throughout the world,
many of whom rank Come and See as one of the greatest films ever made. Accord-
ing to Klimov, the movie’s strange blend of nightmarish surrealism and ferociously
graphic depictions of unspeakable atrocities proved overwhelming for some audi-
ence members who had lived through the events dramatized; they had to be carted
away in ambulances.

Reel History Versus Real History


The film’s anchoring narrative—­Flyora’s hellish, mind-­bending coming of age—is
fictional, but most of the events depicted in Come and See are based on eyewitness
accounts, though they are sometimes embellished. For example, to achieve maxi-
mal demonization of the ­enemy, Klimov engages in hyperbole regarding the look
and be­hav­ior of the German soldiers, especially during the bizarrely carnivalesque
Perekhody massacre scene. The Germans are dressed in weird motley à la Mad
Max and depicted as a mob of ravening, rampaging monsters. Yet, in a way, the
historical real­ity is even more chilling; the Nazis ­were disciplined killers who car-
ried out acts of genocide in a matter-­of-­fact manner. Nonetheless, Come and See
gets its basic scenario right. During an after-­screening discussion in Germany, an
el­derly man stood up and said: “I was a soldier of the Wehrmacht; moreover, an
officer . . . ​I traveled through all of Poland and Belarus, fi­n ally reaching [the]
Ukraine. I w ­ ill testify: every­thing that is told in this film is the truth. And the most
frightening and shameful t­ hing for me is that this film ­w ill be seen by my c­ hildren
and grandchildren” (http://www.classicartfilms.com/come-and-see-1985).

COURAGE U
­ NDER FIRE (1996)

Synopsis
Courage ­Under Fire is an American war film written by Vietnam veteran Patrick
Sheane Duncan, directed by Edward Zwick, and starring Denzel Washington
and Meg Ryan. The second collaboration between Washington and Zwick ­after
Glory (1989), Courage U
­ nder Fire is a Rashomon-­like investigation into the Gulf War
combat death of a female Medevac he­li­cop­ter pi­lot being considered for the Medal
of Honor.

Background
A few years ­after the First Persian Gulf War (1990–1991) Patrick Sheane Duncan
(84 Charlie MoPic) wrote novel and screenplay versions of Courage U ­ nder Fire, a
Rashomon-­like narrative inspired by the downing of a Black Hawk he­li­cop­ter in
Mogadishu, Somalia, on 3 October 1993 that resulted in two U.S. Army Rangers
being awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously (an incident ­later dramatized in
64 C O U R A G E ­U N D E R F I R E

Ridley Scott’s Black Hawk Down, 2001). Duncan’s script recounts an investigation
into the Gulf War combat death of a female Medevac he­li­cop­ter pi­lot being con-
sidered for the Medal of Honor. On 27 January 1995 Patrick Duncan’s agent, Mary
Kimmel, sold his spec script to 20th ­Century Fox for $1 million—­$2 million if
it got produced, which it immediately was. Bud­geting for a $50 million produc-
tion, the studio considered Tom Hanks and Harrison Ford before hiring Denzel
Washington to play the lead male role. Meg Ryan was hired to play the female
lead, and the two actors ­were paid $10 and $6 million, respectively. Washington
persuaded the studio to hire Edward Zwick (with whom he worked on Glory) to
direct, and frequent Coen ­brothers’ director of photography Roger Deakins was
hired to shoot the picture.

Production
In the nine-­month pre-­production lead-up to the start of the shoot on 16 Octo-
ber 1995, the studio sought script approval from the Department of Defense (DOD)
so as to be allowed to rent Abrams tanks, Bradley Fighting Vehicles (BFVs), and a
fleet of Apache and Blackhawk helicopters—­and thereby save $1 million in pro-
duction costs. Five successive revisions of the script w ­ ere submitted to the Army’s
Public Affairs Office in L.A. between March and September 1995, but all w ­ ere
rejected for putting the military in an unfavorable light (e.g., depictions of a small
unit mutiny, the de facto murder of an officer, cover-­ups, e­ tc.). Denied U.S. mili-
tary support, Zwick had to import 11 surplus British Centurion tanks (shipped to
Vancouver from Australia and then trucked to Texas), where sheet metal was added
to make them resemble M1A1 Abrams tanks. To prepare for his role, Denzel
Washington visited with members of the 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry Regiment,
an armored unit stationed at Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas. Matt Damon, then 25
and still a relative unknown, went to far greater Method Acting lengths to nail his
on-­screen transformation from a healthy combat medic to an anguished vet suf-
fering from post-­traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and heroin addiction (depicted
in just one scene, albeit a crucial one, late in the film). In order to look sufficiently
gaunt and wasted, Damon put himself on a near-­starvation diet and ran 13 miles
a day. He lost 50 pounds and suffered adrenal gland damage and other health
prob­lems that took months of medi­cation to repair.

Plot Summary
During the First Gulf War (1991), Lt. Col. Nat Serling (Denzel Washington) acci-
dentally takes out one of his own tanks in the midst of a chaotic nighttime ­battle,
killing his friend Capt. Boylar (Tim Ransom). The U.S. Army covers up the incident
and transfers a remorseful and alcoholic Serling to a desk job. ­L ater, Serling has to
relive his own “friendly fire” event when he is tasked with deciding w ­ hether or
not Capt. Karen Emma Walden (Meg Ryan) deserved to be the first w ­ oman to
receive a (posthumous) Medal of Honor for valor in combat (the Medal of Honor
had been awarded to a w ­ oman, Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, 1832–1919, an Ameri-
can Civil War doctor—­but not for combat heroics). Walden commanded a crew
on a Medevac Huey called in to save the injured soldiers from a shot-­down Black
COURAGE U
­ NDER FIRE 65

Hawk he­li­cop­ter. En route to the crash, Walden came face to face with an ­enemy
T-54 tank. She and her fellow soldiers destroyed the ­enemy tank, but Walder’s he­li­
cop­ter was gunned down. The next day, when the two downed crews are fi­nally
rescued, Walden is reported dead. Reviewing the testimonies of Walden’s crew, Ser-
ling notices inconsistencies between them. Specialist Andrew Ilario (Matt Damon)
expresses high praise for Walden, but Staff Sgt. John Monfriez (Lou Diamond Phil-
lips) pronounces Walden to be a coward and states that he, Monfriez, eliminated
the ­enemy tank. Other members of the crew prove incapable of testifying due to
their injuries. The crew of the Black Hawk mentions hearing M16 gunshots, but
Ilario and Monfriez deny that shots w ­ ere ever fired. Feeling pressure from his supe-
riors to wrap t­ hings up, Serling instead leaks the story to a reporter, Tony Gartner
(Scott Glenn), hoping to prevent another cover-up. Serling presses Monfriez dur-
ing a car r­ ide, and the shaken officer forces Serling out of the car at gunpoint before
killing himself by colliding with an oncoming train. Serling is able to track down
Ilario, however, who fi­nally tells the true story. Wanting to flee and leave Rady (Tim
Guinee) b ­ ehind, Monfriez shot Walden in the stomach during a firefight with the
­enemy, ­either accidentally or deliberately. Though wounded, Walden covered her
crew’s retreat with an M16 the next morning, expecting to be rescued ­later, but
Monfriez told his rescuers that Walden was already dead. As a result A-10 Wart-
hogs dropped napalm on the entire area, finishing off Walden. Ilario was too fright-
ened to tell the truth, and Altameyer was too injured to speak. Serling pres­ents his
final report to Hershberg, and Walden’s young ­daughter, Anne Marie (Christina
Stojanovich), receives the Medal of Honor in her m ­ other’s behalf at a White House
ceremony. ­Later, Serling meets with Capt. Boylar’s parents (Richard Venture and
Diane Baker) and confesses about the true manner of their son’s death. The Boylars
tell Serling he must forgive himself. The final scene reveals that Capt. Walden was
the pi­lot who evacuated Boylar’s body ­after Serling’s friendly fire incident.

Reception
­Running for seven weeks in the summer of 1996 (12 July–22 August; widest release:
2,000 theaters), Courage ­Under Fire was a solid box office hit, grossing over $59
million domestically and $41.8 million in foreign markets for a worldwide gross of
$100.9 million, representing a $40 million profit. Reviews ­were mostly positive,
though not effusive. For example, Richard von Busack characterized Edward Zwick
as a liberal making a war movie who, perforce, “alternates between deploring vio­
lence and succumbing to the excitement of ­battle.” In von Busack’s view, Courage
­Under Fire “acknowledges the hellishness of war while admiring the erectness of
the officer’s spine. The film is stalemated. It’s po­liti­cally neutral, not questioning
the vari­ous diplomatic missteps on the part of the United States that encouraged
Sadaam Hussein to think he could get away with annexing Kuwait” (von Busack,
1996).

Reel History Versus Real History


Denied DOD cooperation, Edward Zwick had to use Bell AH-1 Cobra he­li­cop­ters
instead of Black Hawks, though Cobras w
­ ere sometimes used in the Gulf War. Capt.
66 CROSS OF IRON

Walden’s UH-1H Medevac he­li­cop­ter goes into action without a gunship escort—­
something that would never occur in a real combat zone. Nor would Sgt. Monfriez
have been allowed to carry an automatic weapon on a Red Cross–­marked Medevac
he­li­cop­ter; U.S. military law prohibits such weapons on ambulance vehicles of any
kind (though sidearms for personal protection are allowed). Similarly, Walden’s
attack on the Iraqi tank with a Huey fuel bladder is logistically absurd and a blatant
violation of the Law of Armed Conflict (LOAC) and the Geneva Conventions, which
define medical personnel as noncombatants forbidden from engaging in hostilities.
Rather than being awarded a Medal of Honor, Meg Ryan’s Capt. Karen Walden
would likely have been court-­martialed, had she lived.

CROSS OF IRON (1977)

Synopsis
Cross of Iron is a British-­German war film directed by Sam Peckinpah that stars
James Coburn and features Maximilian Schell, James Mason, and David Warner.
The film follows a Wehrmacht platoon fighting on the Eastern Front in World War II
as the Germans try to stem Soviet advances on the Taman Peninsula in late 1943.
The film focuses on the class conflict between an aristocratic Prus­sian officer with-
out ­battle experience who covets the Iron Cross and a cynical, battle-­hardened
infantry NCO. The screenplay was based on The Willing Flesh by Willi Heinrich, a
novel published in 1956 that is loosely based on the true story of Werhmacht sol-
dier Johann Schwerdfeger.

Background
German WWII Eastern Front veteran Willi Heinrich (1920–2005) began writing
novels a­ fter the war. His first and most famous book, Das Geduldige Fleisch [The
Willing Flesh], about retreating Wehrmacht soldiers embroiled in the B
­ attle of Krym-
skaya in the Crimea (April 1943), was published in 1955. In 1975 Wolf C. Hartwig,
a West German producer of low-­budget soft porn exploitation movies ­eager to break
into mainstream filmmaking, deci­ded to try and film Heinrich’s novel. He sent
director Sam Peckinpah a copy of the book, retitled The Cross of Iron in the 1956
English-­language edition. Intrigued by the subject m ­ atter, Peckinpah agreed to
make a movie version for a $300,000 director’s fee, plus another $100,000 and
5 ­percent on the back end, if the film proved to be profitable. Hartwig hired Julius
Epstein (Casablanca) to write a screenplay, but Peckinpah rejected it as too con-
voluted and cliché-­r idden and hired James Hamilton, a Korean War veteran, to
write a new script and Walter Kelley (Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid) to collaborate on
rewrites a­ fter viewing numerous Nazi and Allied newsreels at film archives in
Koblenz and London, respectively (Weddle, 2000, pp. 504–506).

Production
A joint Anglo-­G erman production (EMI Films/ITC Entertainment, London and
Rapid Films GmbH, Munich), Cross of Iron was plagued from the outset by financial
CROSS OF IRON 67

and logistical prob­lems. Wolf Hartwig had bud­geted $4 million to make the movie
but had managed to secure only a fraction of that sum when pre-­production com-
menced. The Yugo­slav government promised to supply WWII-­era war matériel—­
including airplanes, 15 Soviet T-34 tanks, and German MG42 machine guns and
MP40 submachine guns—­but much of this equipment was not yet available by
the start of the shoot, causing considerable delays. Once ­under way, the produc-
tion was hobbled by Hartwig’s penny-­pinching ineptitude as a producer and by
Sam Peckinpah’s alcoholism. According to biographer David Weddle, Peckinpah
steadily drank 180-­proof slivovitz throughout the shoot. For two or three weeks at a
time he could control his intake enough to function but would then go on benders
and have blackouts that would render him dysfunctional for several days: a pattern
that resulted in highly uneven filmmaking. To save money, the film was mostly
shot in northern Yugo­slavia (present-­day Slovenia) around Obrov and Zagreb,
and in Trieste, Italy, and Savudrija, Croatia. Interior shots w
­ ere completed at Pine-
wood Studios in London. Nonetheless, vari­ous delays and interruptions resulted
in $2 million in cost overruns. Out of money, Hartwig and co-­producer Alex Win-
itsky tried to shut down production before the final scene could be filmed on 6
July 1976 (the 89th day of a shoot that began on 29 March). An irate James Coburn
ejected the pair from the set, and he and Peckinpah improvised a closing scene to
complete the picture.

Plot Summary
The opening credit sequence features black-­and-­white prewar and war scenes,
accompanied by Franz Wiedemann’s popu­lar c­ hildren’s song “Hänschen klein”
(“­Little Hans”). The film proper (in color) begins with a Wehrmacht platoon led by
Sergeant Rolf Steiner (James Coburn) raiding a Rus­sian outpost. Steiner and his
men wipe out the e­ nemy position and capture a Rus­sian boy-­soldier (Slavko Štimac).
Captain Stransky (Maximilian Schell), an effete, aristocratic Prus­sian officer, is
assigned as the battalion leader at the Kuban bridgehead on the Taman Peninsula,
Eastern Front, in 1943. Stransky boasts to both Col. Brandt (James Mason) and
his adjutant, Captain Kiesel (David Warner), that he went out for the posting in
Rus­sia with the specific aim of earning the Iron Cross. Upon their initial meeting,
Stransky commands Sgt. Steiner to kill a young Rus­sian prisoner in accordance
with a standing order. Steiner fails to shoot the prisoner, and as Stransky sets out
to follow the order himself, Corporal Schnurrbart (Fred Stillkrauth) steps in and
saves the boy’s life. ­L ater, Stransky promotes Steiner to Se­nior Sergeant. Steiner
then releases the young Rus­sian prisoner, only to see the child disposed of by his
own side. During the attack, Stransky takes shelter in a bunker, revealing his cow-
ardice. Meanwhile, Lt. Meyer (Igor Galo), who commanded Steiner’s com­pany, is
eliminated during the counterattack. Steiner sustains injuries during the attack
while attempting to save a German soldier and is released to a hospital to conva-
lesce. While at the hospital, Steiner sees visions of the dead, including the face of
the Rus­sian youth who he released. Upon recovering, he is given the option to go
on leave, but chooses to rejoin his squadron. Meeting up with his men, Steiner
hears that Stransky has been taking credit for leading the counterattack, refusing
68 CROSS OF IRON

to credit Meyer, and has consequently been nominated for the Iron Cross. Stran-
sky named as witnesses Lt. Triebig (Roger Fritz), who he blackmailed with his
knowledge of Triebig’s homo­sexuality, and Steiner. Stransky implores Steiner to
back up his story, but Steiner makes no promises. When questioned by Brandt,
Steiner bitterly claims that he abhors military officers on princi­ple and asks for some
time to fully consider his reply. In the interim, Stansky is told that his patrol must
pull back, but he fails to let Steiner know, thus forsaking Steiner’s entire platoon.
As Steiner’s men come to the German frontlines, they send word ahead in the hopes
of avoiding friendly fire. Stransky deviously mentions to Triebig that Steiner and
his men could be “mistaken” for Rus­sian soldiers, if they should choose to kill them.
As a result, Triebig commands his troops to fire upon the Germans; only Steiner
and two of his men survive. Steiner kills Triebig and then searches for Stransky.
The Soviet forces unleash a forceful assault, and Brandt both emboldens the troops
into a counterattack and calls for the immediate evacuation of Kiesel. In the midst
of the ­battle, a song plays ­until the ending credits. Steiner locates Stransky, but
decides to leave him alive, giving him a weapon for ­battle to see “where the crosses
of iron grow.” Stransky takes on Steiner’s “challenge,” and the pair go into b ­ attle.
The movie ends with Stransky failing to properly reload his weapon and being
wounded by a Soviet soldier (Sweeney MacArthur), who looks similar to the young
Rus­sian released by Steiner in the beginning of the film. Stransky audaciously begs
Steiner for assistance, and Steiner’s laughter carries viewers to the end credits.

Reception
Initially released in Eu­rope and Japan in the early months of 1977, Cross of Iron did
well at the box office, particularly in Germany. Released in the United States mid-­
May of that year, the movie tanked commercially and reviews ­were mixed. Some
American critics praised the film as an effective anti-­war movie that signaled Peck-
inpah’s comeback, whereas ­others ­were dismissive. For example, David Rosen-
baum pronounced it “worse than your typical blow-’em-up war movie ­because it
is pretentious” (Rosenbaum, 1977) and the anonymous reviewer for Variety termed
it “well but conventionally cast, technically impressive, but ultimately violence-­
fixated” (1 January 1977). A ­ fter seeing the film, Orson Welles cabled Peckinpah,
praising Cross of Iron as “the best war film he had seen about the ordinary enlisted
man since All Quiet on the Western Front” (Seydor, 1995, p. 20). Director Quentin
Tarantino, a Peckinpah fan, cites the film as one of his favorite WWII movies and
acknowledges it as a key influence on his decision to make Inglorious Basterds (2009).

Reel History Versus Real History


The ­battle action in Cross of Iron is fictional and generic and is not meant to repre-
sent any specific engagements on the Eastern Front in 1943. However, author Willi
Heinrich did base Sgt. Rolf Steiner, the lead character of his novel, Das Geduldige
Fleisch, on Johann Schwerdfeger (1914–2015). A stalwart German noncommis-
sioned officer, Schwerdfeger enlisted in the Wehrmacht in 1935, joined Jäger Reg-
iment 228 of the 101st Jäger Division in June 1942, fought in the Don Bend at
Rostov and Maykop in the Caucasus, and took part in the German retreat through
CRUEL SEA, THE 69

the Kuban bridgehead and the Taman Peninsula—­the setting of Heinrich’s novel
and Peckinpah’s film. On 17 May 1943, Feldwebel (deputy platoon leader) Schw-
erdfeger was awarded the Ritterkreuz (Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross). In April 1944,
in the breakout from Hube’s Pocket, he was severely wounded—as is Steiner in the
movie—­and had Oak Leaves added to his Knight’s Cross on 14 May 1944. At 6'2"
and 48 years old in 1976, James Coburn was both much taller and much older than
his real-­life counterpart; Johann Schwerdfeger was of average height and only 28 in
the summer of 1943.

CRUEL SEA, THE (1953)

Synopsis
The Cruel Sea is a British war film based on the bestselling novel of the same title by
former naval officer Nicholas Monsarrat. Produced by Leslie Norman; directed by
Charles Frend; and starring Jack Hawkins, Donald Sinden, Denholm Elliott, and
Stanley Baker, the film tells the story of the B
­ attle of the Atlantic by focusing on life
aboard two Royal Navy corvettes.

Background
A classic account of WWII’s B­ attle of the Atlantic from the British perspective, Nich-
olas Monsarrat’s novel, The Cruel Sea (Cassell, 1951), sold over 2 million copies in
two years. Monsarrat knew his subject well. An officer in the Royal Navy through-
out the war, he served on three dif­fer­ent corvettes and two frigates protecting Allied
shipping from German U-­boats in the North Atlantic, kept meticulous notes on
his experiences, and wrote three books on convoy escort duty before penning The
Cruel Sea. Michael Balcon’s Ealing Studios purchased the screen rights shortly ­after
the book’s publication and hired Eric Ambler, famed espionage novelist and screen-
writer, to adapt The Cruel Sea to the screen. Ambler took Monsarrat’s 416-­page
book and by the usual compression and distillation techniques, turned it into a
taut script that avoided jingoism and the “war is hell” clichés that mar lesser war
films. Indeed, the film’s central dramatic premise is the somber notion that every­
one who fought became more dehumanized and morally coarsened as the war
dragged on. Also fortuitous was the hiring of Charles Frend to direct; having made
war­time propaganda films and docudramas, Frend was particularly well suited to
the material.

Production
Ealing Studios had the full cooperation of the Admiralty but faced major logistical
prob­lems at the outset: how to obtain a Flower-­class Royal Navy corvette that would
serve as the story’s fictional HMS Compass Rose (K49). Almost all 231 of t­ hese small
(950-­ton) anti-­submarine escort ships that survived the war (36 w­ ere lost in action)
had e­ ither been scrapped already or sold off to other navies a­ fter the war ended.
Fortunately, one of the film’s technical advisors, Capt. Jack Broome, DSC RN,
located one such ship, The Coreopsis (K32)—­a badly disheveled war­time loaner to
70 CRUEL SEA, THE

the Royal Hellenic Navy—in Malta, where it was awaiting breaking. ­After undergo-
ing repairs, K32 steamed back to ­England ­under its own power in June 1952, where
it was refurbished and transformed into the Compass Rose, with the majority of
filming taking place on board (the ship was scrapped a year l­ater). HMS Saltash
­Castle, the other ship featured in Monsarrat’s novel, was portrayed in the film by
Castle-­class corvette HMS Portchester ­Castle (F362, scrapped in 1958). Both ships
used for filming w ­ ere based at Devonport, near Plymouth (southeast of London),
with the River Tamar and Plymouth Sound standing in for the River Mersey in
Liverpool. The scenes of the ships at sea ­were filmed in the En­glish Channel just
out of sight of land in summer ­waters generally too calm to effectively portray con-
ditions on the Atlantic Ocean in winter, so, for ­those scenes, the ships ­were taken
to a tidal race off the tip of the Island of Portland. Though close to shore, a sand
bar and a number of converging tidal streams provided the roiling seas needed for
proper verisimilitude. En­glishman Donald Sinden was initially cast as the cow-
ardly James Bennett (an Australian in the book), and Welshman Stanley Baker was
cast as Keith Lockhart (based on Monsarrat) but the actors eventually swapped
roles. The dramatic ­handling of the film’s key sequence was also a source of some
consternation. When the Compass Rose’s ASDIC (sonar) detects what is suspected
to be a U-­boat lurking directly beneath a group of British sailors treading w ­ ater
­after their ship has been sunk, Ericson must decide instantly w ­ hether to sacrifice
­those sailors by dropping depth charges. He does so, but in a night scene that imme-
diately follows, a drunken and inconsolable Ericson shares his emotional trauma
with Lockhart. ­After viewing the rushes of the scene, Michael Balcon asked Charles
Frend to reshoot it with Jack Hawkins directed to play his part with the usual Brit-
ish stoicism and emotional reserve. Balcon liked the results but two days ­later, ­after
another viewing, the scene was reshot again, with a bit more feeling. Ironically, and
to Hawkins’ amusement, the original take was the one that ended up in the film’s
final version.

Plot Summary
Set in the fall of 1939, as the ­Battle of the Atlantic begins, Lt.-­Commander George
Ericson (Jack Hawkins), a British Merchant Navy and Royal Naval Reserve officer,
is called to active duty and given command of HMS Compass Rose, a newly built
Flower-­class corvette intended for convoy escort duties. His newly commissioned
sublieutenants, Lockhart (Donald Sinden) and Ferraby (John Stratton), are inex-
perienced. Ericson’s first lieutenant (“No. 1”) is James Bennett (Stanley Baker), a
cowardly, hectoring martinet. Drawbacks notwithstanding, the Compass Rose makes
numerous escort runs in the North Atlantic, often in terrible weather, and its men
soon coalesce into a tough and competent fighting force. With the fall of France in
May 1940, French ports become available to the U-­boats, enabling them to attack
convoys anywhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Now the bad weather works to Allied
advantage; the U-­boats cannot attack convoys in rough seas. ­After Bennett is put
ashore with a duodenal ulcer, Lockhart is promoted to No. 1, and the Compass Rose
continues to cross the Atlantic escorting convoys, but despite the best efforts of
the escorts, many merchant vessels are sunk and scores of sailors lost. A ­ fter nearly
CRUEL SEA, THE 71

three years on the w­ ater, the Compass Rose falls victim to a torpedo attack and sinks.
Forced to abandon ship, most of the crew drown or die from hypothermia. Taking
to a c­ ouple of rubber life rafts, Ericson survives along with Lockhart and a few
sailors. Ericson is promoted to commander, and with Lockhart as his first officer,
takes command of the HMS Saltash ­Castle. With Ericson leading an anti-­submarine
escort group they continue their escort duties. Late in the war, while serving with
the Arctic convoys, they track and ultimately destroy U-53 [a U-­boat actually sunk
by Tribal-­class destroyer HMS Gurkha on 23 February 1940 with the loss of all 42
hands]. As the war ends in May 1945 Saltash ­Castle returns to port, sailing past the
surrendered but still formidable U-­boat fleet, prompting Ericson to reflect on
the fact that his commands ­were only able to sink two ­enemy subs over a more than
five-­year period.

Reception
Released in the UK on 26 March 1953, The Cruel Sea was the most successful movie
at the British box office that year and made Jack Hawkins a genuine movie star with
British audiences. It also earned £215,000 in the United States, a high figure for
British movies at the time. The film garnered three BAFTA nominations and one
Oscar nomination, and reviews ­were positive. For example, the anonymous reviewer
for The Times wrote, “Ealing Studios have translated Nicholas Monsarrat’s The Cruel
Sea into a fine film—[as] thrilling and au­then­tic as the book which has excited
nearly 4,000,000 readers in 18 months . . . ​tells a moving story without embellish-
ment or blarney” (25 March 1953). Alexander Walker acknowledged the film’s
authenticity but felt it lacked dramatic impact. In his view it was “professionally
executed but short on intensity, emotion and the cruelty of the sea, which is termed
the villain of this piece” (Walker, 11 August 1953).

Reel History Versus Real History


The general consensus by Royal Navy WWII veterans and historians is that The
Cruel Sea, though fictional in terms of the specific events it portrays, is a very cred-
ible depiction of life on British convoy-­escorts during the Second World War. The
film captures, with understated realism, the harsh living conditions on board ­these
cramped vessels, the often horrendous weather, the endless tedium of war patrols,
and the stark terror of ­battle.
D
DAM BUSTERS, THE (1955)

Synopsis
The Dam Busters is a British war film based on The Dam Busters (1951) by Paul
Brickhill and ­Enemy Coast Ahead (1946) by Guy Gibson. Directed by Michael Ander-
son and starring Michael Redgrave and Richard Todd, the film tells the true story
of Operation Chastise: a mission carried out by the Royal Air Force’s (RAF’s) 617
Squadron of bombers that attacked the Möhne, Eder, and Sorpe dams in Germa-
ny’s Ruhr region with a bouncing bomb specially designed by Barnes Wallis.

Background
On a daring secret mission dubbed “Operation Chastise” (16–17 May 1943) 19 Lan-
caster bombers of the RAF’s 617 Squadron attacked three huge dams—­the Sorpe,
Möhne, and Edersee—in Germany’s industrial Ruhr valley in order to disrupt the
German war effort. The bombs used ­were a unique spherical “bouncing bomb”
developed by Barnes Wallis (1887–1979), a Vickers engineer. Though the Sorpe
Dam sustained only minor damage, the Möhne and Edersee dams w ­ ere breached,
causing catastrophic flooding that destroyed two hydroelectric power stations and
damaged or destroyed other power stations, factories, and mines and drowned an
estimated 1,600 civilians. The Germans managed to minimize the damage by rapid
repairs, but full industrial production in the Ruhr did not return to normal u ­ ntil
September. The leader of the raid, Wing Commander Guy Gibson, died in a plane
crash in September 1944 but not before writing ­Enemy Coast Ahead. Posthumously
published by Michael Joseph Ltd. in 1946, Gibson’s memoir included a RAF-­
censored account of the so-­called “Dam Busters raid.” Four years ­later Paul Brick-
hill, a former Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) pi­lot and author of The G
­ reat Escape
(1950), published The Dam Busters (1951), a bestselling account of the raid. In Octo-
ber 1951 Robert Clark of the Associated British Picture Corporation (ABPC) pur-
chased the film rights as a star vehicle for actor Richard Todd and hired R. C. Sheriff
to write a script based on a treatment by ABPC production supervisor Bill Whit-
taker and script editor Walter Mycroft. Sheriff had the script completed by
October 1952.

Production
The Dam Busters was filmed from mid-­April to mid-­July 1954 at vari­ous locations
in ­England. The flight sequences w
­ ere shot using four real Avro Lancaster B.VII
bombers that had to be taken out of storage and modified (i.e., their mid-­upper
DAM BUSTERS, THE 73

gun turrets w ­ ere removed to mimic 617 Squadron’s special-­purpose aircraft). The
planes, supplied by the RAF, cost £130 per hour to run—­a tenth of the film’s pro-
duction costs. The long, narrow reservoirs in the Upper Derwent Valley, Derbyshire,
a few miles west of Sheffield—­the test area for the real raids—­stood in for the Ruhr
valley for the film. Coastal scenes w
­ ere shot between Skegness and King’s Lynn,
Norfolk, on the En­glish Channel, and additional aerial footage was shot north of
Windermere, in the Lake District. The film set some scenes at RAF Scampton,
where the real raid was launched, but most ground location shooting took place at
still-­operational RAF Hemswell, just north of Scampton and 55 flight miles due
east of the Upper Derwent Valley. Several obsolete Avro Lincolns mothballed at
Hemswell prior to being broken up ­were used to double for additional 617 Squad-
ron Lancasters on the ground. Active-­duty RAF pi­lots based at Hemswell flew the
Lancasters during filming.

Plot Summary
At the start of World War II, Barnes Wallis (Michael Redgrave), a British aeronau-
tical engineer, works to come up with a way to destabilize German dams in order
to disrupt the flow of their industry. In addition to his work for the Ministry of
Aircraft Production and his position at Vickers, Wallis toils away to invent a buoy-
ant bomb capable of dodging torpedo nets by skimming over the ­water’s surface.
In theory, when the bomb would reach the dam, it would have to sink before
detonation in order to pack the most punch and cause the most destruction. Wal-
lis deduces that the bomb’s delivery plane would have to fly very close to the ­water
in order to allow the bomb to skim across effectively. Wallis brings his ideas to the
ministry and is turned down due to an inability to produce newly proposed weap-
ons. Not to be thwarted easily, Wallis meets with Sir Arthur “Bomber” Harris
(Basil Sydney), the head of RAF Bomber Command, in order to procure the
resources necessary to create his bombs. Hesitant at first, Harris eventually approves
Wallis’s plans, and Prime Minister Winston Churchill (not depicted on screen)
authorizes the proj­ect. A special unit of bombers is assembled, to be led by Wing
Commander Guy Gibson (Richard Todd). Gibson puts together a tried-­and-­true
team with experience flying at lower altitudes. As the pi­lots train, Wallis perfects
his bomb, pushing through setbacks and recalculating drop altitudes. Weeks away
from the mission date, Wallis works out the kinks and provides the bombers with
a working explosive. The bombers fly low and attack the dams as planned. Although
eight Lancasters and on-­board crew members perish, two dams are successfully
breached.

Reception
The Dam Busters premiered at the Empire Theatre, Leicester Square, London on 16
May 1955 (the 12th anniversary of the raid), with Princess Margaret and 617 Squad-
ron veterans and f­amily members in attendance. UK box office numbers are
unknown, but the London Times reported that The Dam Busters was the “most prof-
itable film” in ­Great Britain in 1955 (The Times, 29 December 1955). Con­temporary
notices on both sides of the Atlantic ­were uniformly adulatory. The anonymous
74 D A S B O O T [ T H E B O AT ]

reviewer for the London Times (17 May 1955) termed The Dam Busters “a film of
unusual merit.” Brigid Murnaghan called it “a motion picture that must be seen”
(Murnaghan, 9 November 1955).

Reel History Versus Real History


For the most part, The Dam Busters achieves a high degree of historical accuracy
but does tweak the facts for dramatic purposes. Barnes Wallis’s achievements as
an aviation engineer are slightly exaggerated (e.g., he ­wasn’t the chief designer of
the Vickers Wellington bomber). The movie also exaggerates the bureaucratic
opposition that Wallis faced. He was not directly opposed, merely ignored, ­until
a chance encounter with a key Air Ministry official won him permission to build
and test prototypes of his experimental bomb. Nor did the idea of bombing the
dams originate with Wallis; they ­were already identified as impor­tant targets by
the Air Ministry before the war. The film also romanticizes Guy Gibson by show-
ing that all of Gibson’s crew from 106 Squadron volunteered to follow him to his
new command. Actually, only his wireless operator, Robert Hutchinson, went with
him to 617 Squadron. The real Guy Gibson was unpop­u­lar with his men. In a 2013
interview, George “Johnny” Johnson, the last surviving Dam Busters aviator, said
that “one of [Gibson’s] major failings was he ­couldn’t bring himself down to the
lower crews. He mixed very well with se­nior officers, particularly ­those above him
and with the se­nior officers immediately below him but even with the ju­nior offi-
cers he had difficulty. With the NCO’s he just ­didn’t want to know. He was bom-
bastic, he was arrogant . . . ​He was a strict disciplinarian” (Jepps, 2013). The film
shows Gibson devising a spotlights altimeter a­ fter visiting a theater. Actually Ben-
jamin Lockspeiser of the Ministry of Aircraft Production suggested the method—­
already in use by RAF Coastal Command aircraft for some time—­after Gibson
requested they solve the prob­lem.

D A S B O O T [ T H E B O AT ] ( 1 9 8 1 )

Synopsis
Das Boot is a German submarine film produced by Günter Rohrbach, written and
directed by Wolfgang Petersen, and starring Jürgen Prochnow, Herbert Grönemeyer,
and Klaus Wennemann. Adapted from Lothar-­Günther Buchheim’s 1973 novel of
the same title, the film is set during World War II and follows U-96, a Type VIIC–­
class U-­boat, and its crew on a war patrol.

Background
Lothar-­Günther Buchheim (1918–2007) was a German painter, photographer, and
writer who served as a war correspondent in Hitler’s Kriegsmarine during World
War II. Twenty-­eight years a­ fter the end of the war Buchheim published Das Boot
(1973), a novel based on his experiences aboard a Type VIIC–­class U-­boat. Bavaria
Filmstadt bought the screen rights to Das Boot in 1976. Envisioning a large-­scale
D A S B O O T [ T H E B O AT ] 75

production with an international profile, Bavaria initially sought Hollywood


prestige and expertise. In the early stages of development John Sturges (The ­Great
Escape) was hired to direct and Robert Redford was signed on to play the U-­Boat
captain. By 1978 Don Siegel had replaced Sturges as director and Paul Newman
had replaced Redford in the lead role, but Buchheim and the producers at Bavaria
rejected the American script and the proj­ect ground to a halt. In 1979 Bavaria’s
new studio head, Günter Rohrbach, deci­ded to entrust Das Boot to a fellow Ger-
man: director Wolfgang Petersen. Heinrich Lehmann-­Willenbrock (1911–1986), the
captain of U-96 (the boat on which Buchheim served), and Hans-­Joachim Krug,
former first officer on U-219, ­were hired as con­sul­tants. Planning twin proj­ects—­a
feature film and a TV mini-­series cut from the same material—­Bavaria shared pro-
duction with two German public tele­v i­sion stations, the BBC, and public broad-
casting outlets in Austria and Italy. The bud­get was set at 25 million Deutschmarks
(about $12 million USD), making Das Boot the most expensive German film up to
that time (Haase, 2007, pp. 74–75).

Production
Wolfgang Petersen’s guiding princi­ple in making Das Boot was to achieve the high-
est pos­si­ble degree of authenticity and realism. He would have preferred to film
inside a real U-­boat, but the only surviving VIIC–­class U-­boat is U-995, a museum
ship since 1972 that is located near Kiel, on the Baltic Sea, that could not be used
for filming. Instead, Petersen and his crew constructed a number of U-­boat models
at Bavaria Filmstadt, two of which w ­ ere full-­size mock-­ups of a Type VIIC boat:
one for interior scenes and another for exterior scenes. The interior mock-up was
mounted on a huge, hydraulically powered scaffold dubbed “Die Wippe” (“The See-
saw”) that was suspended 5 meters (16.4 feet) off the floor and could be shaken,
rocked, or tilted 45 degrees to simulate dives, surfacing, or depth-­charge attacks.
The mock-up for full shots of the U-­boat’s exterior was the requisite 225 feet long
and propelled by a small engine. Additionally, a mock-up of the U-­boat’s conning
tower was set up in a ­water tank in the studio for more tightly framed shots. To
heighten realism and a claustrophobic atmosphere, Petersen opted not to remove
a side wall of the mock-up that would have opened up the field of view; interior
shots w­ ere filmed by cinematographer Jost Vacano using a handheld 35-mm Arri-
flex with gyroscopic stabilizers—­a smaller-­scale Steadicam Vacano in­ven­ted so that
he could navigate the cramped interior spaces of the mock-up (Vacano wore a bicy-
cle helmet and padding to minimize injury). Location shooting included segments
shot in the still-­extant bombproof U-­boat bunkers at La Pallice, France. During
the shoot in 1980 the full-­size U-­boat mock-up for exterior shots broke apart and
sank. It was ­later raised, patched together, and sunk again on purpose in Das Boot’s
final scene (and was also used in Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981).
The night approach to Vigo, Spain, was filmed using miniatures of merchant ships.
The climactic air raid scene required 200 French extras and a million deutschmarks’
worth of explosives. A French aeronautical club supplied vintage U.S. planes to
masquerade as British warplanes.
76 D A S B O O T [ T H E B O AT ]

Plot Summary
Lt. Werner (Herbert Grönemeyer) is assigned as a war correspondent to U-96 in
October 1941. The night before they depart on a war patrol he meets its captain
(Jürgen Prochnow), chief engineer (Klaus Wennemann), and the crew in a French
bordello. The next morning, U-96 sails out of La Rochelle. A ­ fter many uneventful
days, the crew is excited when another U-­boat locates an ­enemy convoy. U-96 tar-
gets a British destroyer, but the destroyer spots its periscope and attacks with
depth charges. The boat makes a narrow escape. A storm rages for nearly a month,
during which time U-96 comes across another U-boat in raging seas. Following
the storm, U-96 attacks a British convoy, sinking two ships with torpedoes, but it
is spotted by a destroyer and has to dive below its rated limit to evade depth charges.
During the depth-­charge attack, Obermaschinist (chief mechanic) Johann (Erwin
Leder) panics and has to be restrained on threat of being shot. Despite damages,
the boat surfaces ­under the night sky. A torpedoed ­enemy tanker is still afloat and
burning, so they shoot again, realizing afterwards that ­there are sailors still on
board. Helplessly, they watch as the burning, terrified sailors throw themselves
overboard and attempt to swim t­oward their boat. However, the captain, in line
with his ­orders to avoid taking prisoners, commands his men to back the boat away
from the desperate sailors. The U-­boat is ordered to sail on to La Spezia, Italy,
through the Strait of Gibraltar, a narrow sea passage heavi­ly guarded by the Royal
Navy. The U-­boat docks in Vigo, Spain, and meets up with the SS Weser for a resup-
ply, and then embarks for Italy. As the crew approaches Gibraltar, they are strafed

Obermaschinist (Chief Mechanic) Johann (Erwin Leder) tends the engines of U-96 in
Wolfgang Petersen’s Das Boot (1981). (Triumph Releasing Corporation/Photofest)
D A S B O O T [ T H E B O AT ] 77

by a British fighter plane, and the boat’s navigator, Kriechbaum (Bernd Tauber), is
badly wounded. U-96 crash dives but when it attempts to level off, the controls do
not respond and the boat continues to descend into the depths. Just before being
crushed by the tremendous atmospheric pressure, the boat lands on an undersea
shelf at the depth of 280 meters (918.6 feet). Over the next 16 hours Johann works
feverishly to make repairs to the electric batteries to restore propulsion before the
oxygen runs out. He is ultimately successful. The boat is able to surface and returns
to La Rochelle. At dawn, shortly ­after Kriechbaum is brought to land and placed
on an ambulance, Allied planes bomb and strafe the base, decimating most of the
crew. ­After the raid, Werner finds the captain mortally wounded and clinging to
an iron mooring bollard on the dock as he watches his battered U-­boat sink at its
berth. Just ­after the boat dis­appears ­under the ­water, the captain collapses and dies.
Werner rushes to his body and surveys the grim scene with tears in his eyes.

Reception
Das Boot was released in West Germany on 17 September 1981. By the end of its
run, the movie had posted almost $85 million in ticket sales, making it the highest-­
grossing German film up to that time. At the 55th Acad­emy Awards (1983), Das
Boot was nominated for six Oscars: Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best
Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Sound, and Best Sound Editing—­the most
Acad­emy Award nominations for a German film to date. Almost all reviews ­were
highly favorable. Critics typically characterized the movie as “brilliant,” “au­then­
tic,” “gripping,” “tense,” and “claustrophobic.” One critic (Cole Smithey) went so
far as to call the viewing of Das Boot “a religious experience.”

Reel History Versus Real History


Das Boot is a fictionalized account of U-96’s seventh war patrol ­under the com-
mand of Kptlt. Heinrich Lehmann-­Willenbrock (who, at 29 in the fall of 1941, was
a de­cade younger than Jürgen Prochnow in 1980 and a stockier man lacking Proch-
now’s craggy intensity). All the other wardroom officers are also based on real
­people. The real sub was at sea for 41 days, departing St. Nazaire, France, on 27
October 1941 and returning to St. Nazaire on 6 December 1941. The first depth-­
charge attack on U-96 depicted in the movie corresponds to an ­actual incident.
About 500 miles off the Irish coast on 31 October 1941, U-96 attacked Convoy
OS.10 during a full moon and sank the Dutch freighter SS Bennekom at 22.47 hours
(­there w
­ ere 8 dead and 46 survivors). Giving chase, the British escort sloop HMS
Lulworth drove U-96 u ­ nder w
­ ater with gunfire and then dropped 27 depth charges,
but the U-­boat escaped undamaged. As depicted in Das Boot, U-96 rendezvoused
with the interned German cargo ship Bessel (called Wesser in the film) at 22:03 hours
in the neutral port of Vigo, Spain, on 27 November 1941 and sailed again at 04:00
hours. In the movie U-96 is attacked and nearly sunk while attempting to pass
through the Straits of Gibraltar. Its crew subsequently endures 16 hours at near-­
crush depth while repairs are made. In real life U-96 was indeed attacked and
heavi­ly damaged by two bombs dropped from a British Swordfish biplane as it
approached the Straits of Gibraltar (at 22:35 hours on 30 November 1941). U-96
78 D AW N PAT R O L , T H E [ A K A F L I G H T C O M M A N D E R ]

dove and remained submerged for only 6 hours, not 16, before returning to its base
at St. Nazaire for repairs (in early December, not at Christmastime, as in the movie).
The Allied air raid on the U-­boat base and the sinking of U-96 as it returns home
is a complete fabrication, obviously concocted to convey the utter futility of war
(U-96 actually survived most of the war; it was decommissioned when it was sunk
by the U.S. Eighth Air Force in the port of Wilhelmshaven on 30 March 1945).
Allied air attacks on the U-­boat facilities in France did not commence ­until October
1942, a full year a­ fter the film’s time frame.

D AW N PAT R O L , T H E [ A K A F L I G H T
COMMANDER] (1930; REMADE 1938)

Synopsis
The Dawn Patrol is an American Pre-­Code World War I film directed by Howard
Hawks (a former World War I flight instructor). Starring Richard Barthelmess and
Douglas Fairbanks Jr., the film follows the fighter pi­lots of the 59th British Squad-
ron of the Royal Flying Corps as they cope with the stresses of combat on an almost
daily basis. When it was remade in 1938 ­under the same title, the original was
renamed Flight Commander.

Background
The Dawn Patrol originates with John Monk Saunders (1897–1940), an Oxford-­
educated Rhodes Scholar and U.S. Army Air Ser­v ice flight instructor in Florida
during the First World War whose ­great regret in life was not being able to secure
an air combat posting to France during the war. A screenwriter specializing in avia-
tion pictures, Saunders wrote the treatment for William Wellman’s Wings (1927),
the film that won the first Acad­emy Award for Best Picture in 1929. That same year
director Howard Hawks—­himself a WWI Army Air Corps veteran who served in
France—­asked Saunders to write a story for an aviation movie that would serve as a
starring vehicle for Ronald Colman, with Samuel Goldwyn as producer. Drawing
on the recollections of humorist Irvin S. Cobb, who had known WWI Royal Flying
Corps (RFC) pi­lots, and from his own conversations with British and Canadian ex-­
fighter pi­lots during his time at Oxford (1919–1920), Saunders wrote an 18-­page
treatment entitled “The Flight Commander” that dramatized the stoical fatalism and
comradery exhibited by fliers facing death daily. Hawks purchased Saunders’ story
for $10,000, then sold it for the same amount to First National-­Vitaphone, a newly
acquired Warner Bros. subsidiary, a­ fter Goldwyn passed on it. First National pro-
vided a $600,000 production bud­get. With the change in studios Ronald Colman
was eliminated as the pos­si­ble star of the movie; Hawks cast Wings star Richard
Barthelmess in his stead and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. in the supporting role of what
would be Hawks’s first “talkie.” Hawks then hired Seton I. Miller to turn Saunders’
story into a screenplay and ­later hired Dan Totheroh—­a WWI combat veteran—to
polish dialogue. Hawks also hired many of the pi­lots and cameramen who had just
worked on Howard Hughes’ WWI aviation epic, Hell’s Angels (1930).
D AW N PAT R O L , T H E [ A K A F L I G H T C O M M A N D E R ] 79

Production
The shoot for The Dawn Patrol started on 28 February 1930. The En­glish airdrome
scenes ­were shot during the first three weeks of March at Van Nuys Airport, 15
miles northwest of Hollywood. The German airdrome sequence was then shot over
a four-­day period at Newhall, Santa Clarita, and Sherwood Forest, California. Aer-
ial dogfight sequences w ­ ere shot by Elmer Dyer (the first aerial cinematographer)
with a high-­speed Akeley “Pancake” camera from the observer’s rear cockpit of a
biplane. ­These scenes w ­ ere shot in April and May in the skies above the San Fer-
nando Valley with some two dozen stunt aviators, carefully drilled to choreograph
complicated maneuvers safely. It did not escape the notice of Howard Hughes that
the climactic raid on a German ammo dump in The Dawn Patrol was patently simi-
lar to a scene in Hell’s Angels (Hughes had a spy employed on Hawks’s set). Hughes
officially objected, but the scene was shot as written a­ fter producer Hal Wallis
refused to make any changes. The 13-­week shoot was concluded in early June. Post-­
production was rushed through and finished in just two months so that The Dawn
Patrol could preempt the general release date of its direct competitor, Hell’s Angels—­
which it did by 11 weeks.

Plot Summary
A foreword in captions sets the scene: “The late fall of 1915 in France, when a g­ reat
country was forced to entrust its salvation to youth—­pitifully young, inexperienced,
bewildered—­but gloriously reckless with patriotism—­proud and ­eager to rush
hopelessly into combat against the veteran warriors of the e­ nemy.” A brief aerial
combat sequence follows, in which an RFC pi­lot is shot down and killed. The pi­lots
of the 59th British Squadron of the Royal Flying Corps deal with the psychologi-
cal stress of combat in a variety of ways, but mostly they resort to gallows humor
and nightly rounds of boisterous singing and drinking. The two top pi­lots in “A
Flight,” Capt. Dick Courtney (Richard Barthelmess) and Lt. Douglas Scott (Doug-
las Fairbanks, Jr.), loathe their superior officer, Brand (Neil Hamilton). They blame
their commander for ordering ill-­trained new flyers into the air in less-­than-­ideal
planes. Unbeknownst to the ­bitter pi­lots, Brand has gone back and forth with their
high command in order to secure extra practice time in the air for the newer flight
recruits. Unfortunately, not wanting to lose their reputation as superior air fight-
ers, Brand’s superiors order the new recruits into combat as soon as they report
to their frontline base. Back at the base, Brand is forced to drink alone due to his
being ostracized by his men and begins to suffer a ­mental break as a result. The
situation intensifies as an incredibly capable German flight team led by von Rich-
ter (Howard Hawks) positions itself directly opposite from the British base. The
British flight crew suffers the loss of numerous veterans, meaning that the ranks
are composed of newer and newer pi­lots who ­don’t stand a chance against the more
experienced Germans. Von Richter taunts the inexperienced pi­lots, and Courtney
and Scott retaliate by ­going against Brand’s ­orders and launching an attack on the
German airdrome. Afterwards, Brand is forced to return to headquarters while
Courtney assumes command of the squadron. Newly in charge, Courtney discov-
ers that Brand was fighting to give inexperienced pi­lots more time to train, but
80 D AW N PAT R O L , T H E [ A K A F L I G H T C O M M A N D E R ]

was being rebuffed. Courtney feels the full responsibility of sending newer pi­lots
into active duty a­ fter being forced to send Donny (William Janney), Scott’s b­ rother,
on a mission before he is ready—an act that results in Donny’s death. Brand arrives
back on base with a veritable suicide mission for his pi­lots that w ­ ill send them
­behind e­ nemy lines. As the new squadron commander, Courtney is not allowed to
participate in the mission. Enraged over the death of his b­ rother, Scott volunteers
for the mission, but Courtney plies him with drink and takes his spot in order to
make amends. Courtney shoots down von Richter but is then shot down and killed
by another German pi­lot. The film ends with Scott assuming command of the unit
and reading o­ rders to even newer recruits.

Reception
Premiering on 10 July 1930, when sound films w ­ ere still an exciting novelty, The
Dawn Patrol did well at the box office and garnered glowing reviews but further
aggravated Howard Hughes, who sued the filmmakers for plagiarizing Hell’s Angels.
Hughes soon changed his mind, however, and dropped his lawsuit. He even invited
Hawks to play golf with him and ended securing an agreement from Hawks to
co-­produce and direct Scarface (1932), his pre-­Code gangster classic with Paul Muni.
The success of The Dawn Patrol in 1930 spawned a remake eight years l­ater, with
Errol Flynn as Capt. Courtney, David Niven as Lt. Scott, and Basil Rathbone as
Major Brand. The 1938 version recycles the script and the aerial combat footage of
the earlier film but supplements both with some new material. In keeping with
the better sound equipment available in 1938, dialogue was slightly expanded—­
mainly with anti-­war sentiments appropriate to the temper of the times—­and
improved by a more naturalistic acting style that lent the remake a smoother feel.
Like its pre­de­ces­sor, the second Dawn Patrol was a box office and critical success.
Critics and film historians are divided as to which version is superior, though IMDb
ratings rank the 1930 version slightly higher than the 1938 version.

Reel History Versus Real History


Though inspired by aviators’ stories, The Dawn Patrol is not specifically based on
any true events. In keeping with its purely fictional character, the film makes no
references to any ­battles, units, or famous names connected with the war. ­There
was a 59th Squadron in the RFC but it was not formed u ­ ntil 1 August 1916 and
did not enter frontline ser­v ice in France u ­ ntil February 1917–­more than a year
­after the temporal setting of the film. The movie does, however, depict the chaotic
maelstrom of WWI air combat in a realistic manner. It also accurately represents
the real­ity of combat for RFC pi­lots in the first two years of the war, when inexpe-
rienced recruits flying inferior airplanes took exceedingly high casualty rates. For
example, during the Somme campaign (July–­November 1916), the RFC lost 800
aircraft and 252 aviators. RFC in­effec­tive­ness and lopsided losses against German
Fokkers continued ­until the summer of 1917, when the introduction of new and
better planes (e.g., the Sopwith Camel and the Bristol F.2B fighter) allowed the RFC
to begin to achieve fighting parity with the e­ nemy and drastically reduce losses.
Scott and Courtney’s attack on the German aerodrome was perhaps inspired by a
DEER HUNTER, THE 81

similar attack mounted by WWI Canada’s top flying ace, William Avery “Billy”
Bishop (1894–1956). On 2 June 1917 Bishop flew a solo mission b ­ ehind ­enemy
lines to attack a German aerodrome. Though ­there w­ ere no corroborating witnesses,
Bishop claimed that he shot down three e­ nemy aircraft that w
­ ere taking off to attack
him and destroyed several more on the ground. For this feat, he was awarded the
Victoria Cross (VC), only one of two without witnesses to the alleged action. Author
Brereton Greenhous contends that Bishop was “a brave flier—­and a consummate,
bold liar” who regularly embellished his exploits. He further argues that Bishop’s
attack on the German aerodrome likely never happened (Greenhous, 2002, p. 13).

DEER HUNTER, THE (1978)

Synopsis
The Deer Hunter is an American Vietnam War epic co-­w ritten and directed by
Michael Cimino about a trio of Russian-­American steelworkers (played by Robert
De Niro, Christopher Walken, and John Savage) who are wounded physically, psy-
chologically, and emotionally by their horrific experiences in Vietnam.

Five blue-­collar buddies played by (left to right) Christopher Walken, Robert DeNiro,
Chuck Aspegren, John Savage, and John Cazale emerge from their shift at the steel mill
in Clairton, Pennsylvania, in an early scene from Michael Cimino’s Vietnam War epic,
The Deer Hunter (1978). (Universal Pictures/Photofest)
82 DEER HUNTER, THE

Background
The Deer Hunter began as a story idea by actor/screenwriter Quinn  K. Redeker,
circa 1971. ­After reading an article about a man who was filmed playing Rus­sian
roulette, Redeker filed the incident away as an idea for a film script. In 1974 he
called fellow screenwriter Louis A. Garfinkle and proposed that they collaborate
on a screenplay, mentioning the Rus­sian roulette motif among other story ideas.
Garfinkle found it compelling and, in February 1975, the two writers completed
“The Man Who Came to Play,” a spec script about a gambler who comes to Las
Vegas to play Rus­sian roulette. They soon sold the property to producers Barry
Spikings and Michael Deeley of British Lion (­later absorbed by EMI) for $19,000.
In November 1976, writer/director Michael Cimino (Thunderbolt and Lightfoot) was
hired to rewrite the script and insert the Rus­sian roulette ele­ment into a Vietnam
War scenario. Cimino then subcontracted with screenwriter Deric Washburn to
produce a revised draft. Without d ­ oing any research or interviewing any Vietnam
vets, Washburn wrote a new screenplay in one month and was duly dismissed from
any further participation in the development pro­cess. Soon thereafter, Cimino put
only his own name on Washburn’s script, failing to credit its real author (Wash-
burn took the m ­ atter to the Writers Guild for arbitration and was eventually
accorded sole credit for the screenplay and a co-­credit for the film’s story). A­ fter
hiring Vilmos Zsigmond as his cinematographer, Cimino signed Robert De Niro
for the lead role of Michael, and through De Niro’s influence, the rest of the main
cast: Christopher Walken, John Savage, Meryl Streep, and Streep’s boyfriend, John
Cazale (diagnosed with lung cancer in March 1977, Cazale was ­dying during pro-
duction and would pass away at age 42 on 13 March  1978, almost nine months
before the film’s premiere). Shortly before the start of the shoot, Cimino took his
principal players to Weirton, West V ­ irginia, a location that would partly substitute
for Clairton, Pennsylvania, the film’s stateside setting. The cast stayed in Weirton a
week, soaking up atmosphere. As Walken recalls, “We went to a real Rus­sian wed-
ding, huge, with food and dancing. We traveled in the same car together, so by the
time we did start shooting we had some real camaraderie ­going, which I ­hadn’t
done in a movie before” (quoted in Biskind, 2008).

Production
The Deer Hunter shoot lasted more than six months (June 1977–­January 1978).
Most of the Clairton scenes ­were actually shot in Ohio: the opening steel mill scenes
­were filmed at US Steel’s Central Furnaces on the Monongahela River in Cleve-
land; the wedding scene, which took five days to film, was shot at St. Theodosius
Rus­sian Orthodox Cathedral, in Cleveland (with Fr. Stephen Kopestonsky, the
cathedral’s a­ ctual pastor, presiding); the raucous wedding banquet scene was filmed
at nearby Lemko Hall (originally slated for 21 minutes of screen time, it ended up
­r unning 51 minutes); the bar scene was filmed at a set constructed inside an empty
storefront in Mingo Junction, Ohio; Veterans Administration (VA) hospital scenes
­were filmed at a real VA hospital in Cleveland; other street, mill, road, and ceme-
tery scenes w
­ ere shot in Steubenville, Struthers, and McKeesport, Ohio (over the
Monongahela from Clairton), in Clairton and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; and in
DEER HUNTER, THE 83

Follansbee and Weirton, West ­Virginia. The deer hunting scenes ­were shot in the
Heather Meadows area of Mount Baker-­Snoqualmie National Forest and at Nook-
sack Falls in the North Cascades range of Washington State—2,700 miles from
Clairton but visually spectacular (the deer was actually an elk, which is not indig-
enous in the Eastern states). The Vietnam scenes w ­ ere filmed on location in Thai-
land during the second half of the six-­month shoot. The production’s liaison in
Thailand was General Kriangsak Chomanan, head of the Thai military, who pro-
vided the film with army vehicles, weapons, and aircraft—­but had to take it all
back, at least temporarily, ­because he needed the war matériel to stage a coup on
20 October 1977. Bangkok substituted for Saigon. The harrowing prisoner of war
(POW) camp scenes ­were shot on the famous River Kwai, in the Katchanburi dis-
trict of northern Thailand, near the Burmese border, and took an entire month to
shoot. A perfectionist notorious for shooting large numbers of takes, Cimino was
already well over bud­get when he started the Thailand portion of the production.
Bad weather and logistical difficulties doubled the duration of the shoot t­ here, from
two to four months. Originally allotted $8 million for production, The Deer Hunter
ended up costing $13 million ($52.5 million in 2017 dollars).

Plot Summary
[Act I] The setting is Clairton, Pennsylvania, at the end of 1967. A group of Rus­
sian American steel workers—Michael “Mike” Vronsky (Robert De Niro), Steven
Pushkov (John Savage), and Nikanor “Nick” Chevotarevich (Christopher Walken),
along with friends and co-­workers Stan (John Cazale) and Peter “Axel” Axelrod
(Chuck Aspegren) and local bar owner and friend John Welsh (George Dzundza)—
ready themselves for marriage and military assignments. Before Mike, Steven, and
Nick leave for basic training, Steven and a pregnant Angela (Rutanya Alda) have a
Rus­sian Orthodox wedding. All the while, Mike tries to cover up the fact that he is
in love with Nick’s girlfriend, Linda (Meryl Streep). While enjoying the wedding
reception, the men notice a lone Green Beret (U.S. Army Special Forces) sitting at
the bar. Mike tells the soldier that he and his friends are headed to Vietnam, and
the Green Beret toasts them saying, unnervingly, “F— it.” Linda and Nick get
engaged a­ fter she catches the bride’s bouquet. Nick l­ater makes Mike promise not
to leave him in the combat zone if anything should happen. The friends go hunting
the next day, and Mike gets frustrated with Stan, who is unprepared and shows
no respect for what Mike considers a sacred ritual. Mike kills a deer with a single,
well-­aimed r­ ifle shot. [Act II] In Vietnam, U.S. soldiers attack an ­enemy village
with napalm. Mike, a staff sergeant, watches a North Viet­nam­ese Army (NVA)
operative kill a w­ oman with a baby and then kills the operative. Si­mul­ta­neously, a
group of “Huey” he­li­cop­ters delivers a number of American infantry troops to the
combat zone, including Nick and Steven. Mike, Steven, and Nick re­unite, but are
soon taken prisoner by e­ nemy combatants and sent to a POW camp. The sadistic
guards have the POWs play Rus­sian roulette, gambling on the outcome. Mike, Ste-
ven, and Nick all play, but Steven is unable to play against Mike and shoots at the
air instead. As a result, the guards cage Steven underwater with rats. Mike and
Nick plot an escape, convincing the guards to let them play with extra bullets and
84 DEER HUNTER, THE

then turning on their enemies. Nick and Mike kill the guards and rescue Steven;
then the trio floats down the river in search of rescue. Although an American he­li­
cop­ter unit spots them, Nick is the only one who can make it aboard. Steven, weak
from his torture, slides back into the w ­ ater, and Mike goes in a­ fter him. Mike man-
ages to get Steven to the riverbank and then carries him through the jungle to
the American lines. Meanwhile, Nick convalesces in a field hospital in Saigon,
battling against post-­traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and worrying about the
fate of his friends. ­After his wounds heal, Nick leaves the hospital and goes absent
without leave (AWOL). He walks through Saigon’s red-­light district and into a
gambling den. Mike is also in the den, watching a game of Rus­sian roulette but
not participating. Nick enters the game, and Mike notices his friend and senses
that he is not acting like himself. Nick takes the gun and fires it at another player
before turning the gun on himself. Nick survives, but is driven away by Julien
Grinda (Pierre Segui) before Mike can catch him. [Act III] Stateside, Mike arrives
home, but he is unable to embrace the friends who wait for him with a “welcome
home” banner outside the h ­ ouse. He and Linda spend time together the next
day, thinking that t­hey’ve lost Nick forever. Mike also visits Angela, but she is
cold and clearly depressed. She tells Mike that Steven is at a VA hospital. Upon
reaching the VA hospital, Mike realizes that Steven has had both legs amputated
and is para­lyzed. Steven tells Mike that an anonymous source in Saigon has
been mailing him money and that he suspects the source to be Nick. Mike
delivers Steven to Angela, then goes back to Saigon in search of Nick just before
it falls to the communists [late April 1975]. Mike discovers Nick gambling, but
Nick appears to be ignorant of who Mike is and where he comes from. Nick tries
to jog his friend’s memory using a game of Rus­sian roulette, but Nick is too far
gone. To keep him away from the gun, Mike grabs Nick’s arms, revealing scars
that are obviously heroin tracks. Nick fi­n ally recognizes Mike, smiles, and tells
him he wants to take “one [more] shot.” Nick then raises the gun to his head
and pulls the trigger. This time a live round is in the gun’s top chamber and, to
Mike’s horror, Nick kills himself. [Epilogue] Mike has brought his body home,
making good his promise. A ­ fter gathering for Nick’s funeral and burial, they all
repair to John’s bar and sing “God Bless Amer­i­ca,” as Mike lifts a toast in Nick’s
honor.

Reception
To qualify for Oscar nominations, The Deer Hunter was released for a week in New
York and Los Angeles (8–15 December 1978). The film then went into wide release
on 23 February 1979, just ­after nominations ­were announced. A resounding com-
mercial and critical success, The Deer Hunter grossed nearly $50 million at the box
office and earned nine Acad­emy Award nominations, nine BAFTA nominations,
and six Golden Globe nominations. It went on to win five Oscars—­for Best Picture,
Best Director, Best Supporting Actor (Christopher Walken), Best Film Editing,
and Best Sound. But the movie also generated a firestorm of controversy for its
depiction of the Viet Cong as bloodthirsty sadists who used Rus­sian roulette as
DEER HUNTER, THE 85

an instrument of torture on American POWs. At Oscar night (9 April 1979) 13


members of Vietnam Veterans against the War (VVAW) staged a leafleting protest
against the film outside the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles. In a press
interview, VVAW member Randy Rowland said, “Having John Wayne give the Best
Picture Award to The Deer Hunter was just too much. I’m convinced that John
Wayne knew the film would win, ­because it carries on the John Wayne tradition.
It’s The Green Berets of the 1970s. It puts the shoe on the wrong foot, turning the
Viet­nam­ese into the aggressors and war criminals. It’s a racist view and lays the
basis for ­future wars. At the end of the film, when the survivors sing ‘God Bless
Amer­i­ca,’ I was shaking with rage” (Hartl, p. 69). Further aggravating ­m atters,
Cimino lied about his military ser­v ice while promoting the film, falsely claiming
he had been a Green Beret medic in Vietnam at the time of the Tet Offensive in
1968: a claim debunked in the April 1979 issue of Harper’s magazine by Tom Buck-
ley, a former Vietnam correspondent for The New York Times. Lost in all the outrage
over the film’s reckless deployment of the Rus­sian roulette meta­phor, however,
was the recognition that The Deer Hunter does make a valid point; that the war
wreaked havoc on the white working class that supplied the bulk of American
troops in Vietnam, an insight proffered some years l­ ater by USC En­glish professor
Rick Berg: “What we see [in the film’s culminating “God Bless Amer­i­ca” scene] is
a community shattered by Vietnam, trying to express a deeply rooted national-
ism, with all its ironies and contradictions. T
­ hese ­people, then, are not merely the
inheritors of s­imple freedoms, but the constructors of a history that has both
made and unmade them. Like the Viet­nam­ese, they are the ignorant and innocent
victims of a war being waged against exploited p ­ eoples by exploited p­ eople” (Berg,
1986, p. 120).

Reel History Versus Real History


As a cinematic repre­sen­ta­tion of ethnic working-­class life in Amer­i­ca, c.1967–1975,
The Deer Hunter has considerable merit. As a Vietnam War movie, it is a pure fiction
that perpetrates gross historical inaccuracies. Though the North Viet­nam­ese treated
American POWs brutally, ­there is not a single documented instance of ­either the
Viet Cong or NVA forcing American POWs to play Rus­sian roulette for their captors’
amusement. Likewise, ­there is no evidence that Rus­sian roulette gambling dens
existed in Saigon during the Vietnam War—or have ever existed anywhere, for
that m
­ atter. The film’s timeline is also deeply suspect. Nick starts playing Rus­sian
roulette on a regular basis no l­ater than 1968, yet he is still alive when Michael
tries to rescue him in April 1975: a miraculous feat of survival on Nick’s part that
beggars logic. Fi­nally, the movie’s exclusive focus on white working-­class soldiers,
although perfectly valid, pres­ents a skewed ethnographic depiction of the Ameri-
can experience in Vietnam. Despite being barely vis­i­ble in the film, 12.6 ­percent
of the soldiers in Vietnam w ­ ere African American. Overrepresented in combat sit-
uations, African Americans accounted for 15.1  ­percent of the war’s American
casualties while comprising only 11 ­percent of the population: a historical real­ity
that cannot be extrapolated from The Deer Hunter.
86 D E F I A N C E

DEFIANCE (2008)

Synopsis
Defiance is an American war film directed by Edward Zwick. With a screenplay by
Zwick and Clayton Frohman based on Nechama Tec’s book, Defiance: The Bielski
Partisans (1993), Defiance tells the story of the Bielski partisans: a group led by
Belarusian Jewish b­ rothers who saved hundreds of Jews in Nazi-­occupied Belarus
during the Second World War. The film stars Daniel Craig as Tuvia Bielski, Liev
Schreiber as Zus Bielski, Jamie Bell as Asael Bielski, and George MacKay as Aron
Bielski.

Background
Alexander Zeisal “Zus” Bielski (1912–1995) was one of the four legendary Bielski
­brothers: Jewish partisans who rescued some 1,200 Jews from Nazi extermination
in Belarus during World War II. When Zus Bielski died in New York City 50 years
­after the war ended, screenwriter Clayton Frohman read his obituary in the New
York Times and brought Bielski’s story to the attention of his boyhood friend, film
director Edward Zwick (Glory). Convinced that the story of the Bielski b ­ rothers
would provide a power­ful counternarrative to the widespread belief that Jews pas-
sively succumbed to Nazi genocide, Frohman and Zwick set out to bring the Biel-
ski saga to the screen. Serendipitously, Holocaust historian/survivor Nechama Tec
(University of Connecticut) had recently published the definitive history of the Biel-
ski ­brothers—­Defiance: The Bielski Partisans (1993). Zwick acquired the film rights
to Dr. Tec’s book, and he and Frohman collaborated on a screen adaptation, but it
would take a de­cade to bring the proj­ect to fruition; the Hollywood studios ­were
not interested in financing a Holocaust-­themed picture certain to be a grim, if not
grueling, viewing experience. A ­ fter actor Daniel Craig was cast in the lead role in
May 2006, Zwick secured $32 million from Canadian film financing mogul Don
Starr’s Grosvenor Park Productions. With Craig signed and financing in place,
Zwick’s production com­pany, Bedford Falls Productions, was able to sell U.S. and
Canadian distribution rights to Paramount Vantage. The following August, Liev
Schreiber, Jamie Bell, Alexa Davalos, and Tomas Arana ­were cast.

Production
Zwick and his co-­producer, Pieter Jan Brugge, considered shooting the movie in
Canada, but l­abor costs w ­ ere prohibitive. They then pondered Poland or Roma-
nia, where ­labor costs are low, but could not find the requisite forest setting close
to a major city needed to lodge production offices, cast, and crew (Dapkus, E.20).
Ultimately they chose to shoot in eastern Lithuania, at a forest site close to Vilnius,
the nation’s capital city, and just 100 miles from the ­actual locations of the Bielski
partisan camps in Belarus. As it turned out, some locals who acted as extras in the
film w
­ ere descended from families the Bielski partisans had rescued. According to
Zwick, the shoot was an arduous one: “To work at northern latitudes is to be acutely
aware of winter’s approach. By September ­there was frost on the ground. By mid-­
October we w ­ ere knee-­deep in snow. By November dawn ­wasn’t ­until 8 a.m., and
DEFIANCE 87

the pale sun began to fade by 3. Despite our sophisticated outerwear, we w ­ ere
always cold.” But Zwick was always cognizant that the real ­people being depicted
had had it far worse: “Yet for three long winters, with subzero temperatures and a
mind-­numbing wind off the Baltic that brought Hitler’s assault on Rus­sia to a frost-
bitten halt, the Bielski partisans wrapped themselves in skins and rags, braved
starvation and dug burrows into the hillsides, living like moles” (Zwick, 2008, AR7).
The shoot began in late August 2007 and wrapped in early December so Daniel
Craig could move on to his next job, reprising his role as James Bond in Quantum
of Solace.

Plot Summary
The film opens with an on-­screen notation: “A true story.” It is August 1941, and
Nazi einsatzgruppen (task forces) are systematically killing Jews throughout the
Eastern Eu­ro­pean territories just conquered by the Wehrmacht. ­Those who are not
among the dead or left to strug­gle in ghettos include the Polish Jewish Bielski
­brothers: Tuvia (Daniel Craig), Zus (Liev Schreiber), Asael (Jamie Bell), and Aron
(George MacKay). Their parents have been killed off by the police, who acted u ­ nder
the influence of German commands. Vowing to avenge their parents, the Bielski
­brothers retreat to the primeval Naliboki Forest in northwestern Belarus. The
­brothers discover other Jews attempting to escape the Germans and take on a lead-
ership role among them. The ­brothers spend the next year protecting and caring
for an ever-­growing population of refugees, moving their location any time that
the local police discover their whereabouts. During this time, Tuvia murders the
Belarus­sian police captain (Sigitas Rackys) who carried out his parents’ deaths and
also eliminates the captain’s sons (Vaidas Kublinskas and Valentin Novopolskij)
when they try to stop the attack. The ­brothers stage small-­scale raids and
ambushes on the German soldiers, but Tuvia is pained by the Jewish casualties
and considers a dif­fer­ent approach. Tuvia and Zus disagree about how to proceed
as fighting in the forest continues. Zus sees the defeat of the German militia as a
primary and all-­important goal that supersedes surviving the German occupation.
Zus sees Tuvia’s “politics of diplomacy” as too soft and chooses to join a Soviet unit,
though the transition ­isn’t a smooth one. The Soviet unit has preconceived notions
about Jewish soldiers that Zus is forced to rail against. Tuvia (“Our revenge is to
live”) defends his ever-­growing camp and deals with such hardships as starvation,
disease, and in-­fighting among camp members. Zus’s new Soviet unit makes a pact
with Tuvia’s camp, agreeing to protect the Jewish camp members in exchange for
supplies. Following a difficult winter, the camp discovers that the Germans have
hit upon their location and are planning a large-­scale attack. When the Soviets
withdraw their support, the Jews are forced to flee their camp just as German
dive-­bombers begin their attack. Asael and a small group of fellow camp members
attempt to hold the Germans off, but they are unable to adequately defend their
ground. Almost the entire small group perishes in the attack. When the situation
seems hopeless, Zus and his partisan troops attack the Germans from ­behind, leav-
ing the Soviets to rescue the Jewish camp. The surviving camp members flee to
the forest, and on-­screen text states that the group grew to 1,200 p ­ eople who
88 D O W N FA L L [ G ER M A N : D E R U N T E R G A N G ]

survived for two more years, building an entire refugee city in a push for survival.
The film ends with photo­graphs of the real Bielski ­brothers and details their life
histories. Original photo­graphs of the real-­life persons are shown, including Tuvia
in his Polish Army uniform, and their ultimate fates are shared: Asael joined the
Soviet Army and was soon killed in action, never getting to see the child he fathered;
and Tuvia, Zus, and Aron survived the war and emigrated to Amer­i­ca to form a
successful trucking firm in New York City.

Reception
During its 17 weeks (16 January to 30 April 2009) in wide release in the United
States, Defiance earned $28.6 million at the box office. Foreign box office receipts
came in at $22.5 million. Ultimately, Defiance made $51.5 million—­almost
$20  million more than its production budget—­but with marketing costs (now
usually about 50% of production costs) added in, net profits ­were prob­ably a modest
$5 million or less. Along with a mediocre box office showing, Defiance was met
with mixed reviews from film critics. Typically ambivalent was Peter Rainer. On
the one hand he praised the film “as a piece of historical redress” that does “a ­great
ser­v ice . . . ​in bringing this narrative to the screen.” On the other hand, Rainer
found Defiance excessively didactic in tone: “Too much is spelled out for us; too
many speeches have a stentorian heft. Do we r­ eally need to hear Tuvia announce,
Moses-­like, that his communal goal is to ‘live f­ree, like ­human beings, for as long
as we can’?” (Rainer, 17 January 2009).

Reel History Versus Real History


Belarusian critics noted a lack of Belarusian language within the film and also noted
that whereas the Soviet partisans in the movie sing a “Belarusian” folk song, real
partisan soldiers from that area w­ ould’ve been more likely to sing Rus­sian ballads.
In addition, some Soviet partisan veterans claimed that the film contained a num-
ber of historical inaccuracies. Some reviews, as in Poland, criticized the film for
ignoring the Bielski partisans’ crimes against the local population. In one scene it
is stated that ­there may be an epidemic of typhus and that ampicillin was needed.
The action takes place approximately 17 years before this drug was available.

D O W N FA L L [ G E R M A N : D E R U N T E R G A N G ] ( 2 0 0 4 )

Synopsis
Downfall is a German-­, Italian-­, and Austrian-­funded war drama depicting the
bizarre final 10 days in the life of Adolf Hitler (played by Bruno Ganz), hunkered
down in his Berlin Führerbunker in late April 1945 as the Red Army closes in to
seal his doom. Based on several eyewitness histories, the film was written and pro-
duced by Bernd Eichinger and directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel.

Background
Having produced Hans-­Jürgen Syberberg’s seven-­hour visionary epic, Hitler-­ein Film
aus Deutschland [Hitler: A Film from Germany] (1977), Bernd Eichinger had long
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wanted to make a more mainstream film about Adolf Hitler. Developments in 2002
gave him the fresh source material he needed. Traudl Junge, Hitler’s personal sec-
retary from 1942 to 1945, wrote a memoir in 1947–1948 but left it unpublished
for more than half a ­century. El­derly and suffering from terminal cancer in 2001,
Junge was fi­nally persuaded by her friend, Anne Frank biographer Melissa Müller,
to let her book, Bis Zur Letzten Stunde [­Until the Final Hour], be published and to be
interviewed for a documentary film by Austrian artist André Heller. Junge’s book
came out on 1 January 2002, and Heller’s film, Im toten Winkel—­Hitlers Sekretärin
[Blind Spot: Hitler’s Secretary], was released six weeks l­ater. Soon thereafter histo-
rian Joachim Fest published a more objective account of the same events: Der Unter-
gang: Hitler und das Ende des Dritten Reiches [Downfall: Hitler and the End of the Third
Reich]. Sensing the time was fi­nally right for a docudrama on Hitler—­a subject here-
tofore taboo in Germany—­Eichinger wrote a screenplay that detailed the last 10
days of Hitler’s life in the bunker, based primarily on Junge and Fest, but also draw-
ing on a number of other sources: Albert Speer’s Inside the Third Reich (1969); Gerhard
Boldt’s Hitler’s Last Days: An Eye-­Witness Account (first En­glish translation 1973);
Siegfried Knappe’s 1992 memoir, Soldat: Reflections of a German Soldier, 1936–1949
(1992); and Dr. Ernst-­Günther Schenck’s Das Notlazarett unter der Reichskanzlei: Ein
Arzt erlebt Hitlers Ende in Berlin [Field Hospital U­ nder the Reich Chancellery: A Doctor
Experiences Hitler’s End in Berlin] (1995). A­ fter completing a script, Eichinger sent it
to director Oliver Hirschbiegel, who agreed to take on the proj­ect. Soon thereafter,
acclaimed Swiss actor Bruno Ganz (Wings of Desire) was cast as Hitler. To prepare for
the role, Ganz researched the part by visiting a hospital to study patients with Par-
kinson’s disease (from which Hitler suffered). He also studied an 11-­minute tape
recording of Hitler in private conversation with Finnish Field Marshal Carl Gustaf
Mannerheim secretly made in June 1942. Hirschbiegel also made e­ very effort to
achieve authenticity, especially with regard to the look of the Führerbunker. As he
told interviewer Carlo Cavagna, “The bunker was constructed at the Bavaria Stu-
dios in Munich, following precisely the floor plan. What you see is ­really how it
looked . . . ​I told them I wanted it exactly the way it was, and did thorough research
about even where the t­ able stood, and the position of the chairs, and t­ hings like
that. And, furthermore, it was a fixed set. You c­ ouldn’t take walls out. I ­couldn’t
remove anything, ­really. ­There was no, ‘Let’s take out that wall and use a long lens.’
So it was like we ­were shooting in the [­actual] bunker” (Cavagna, 2005).

Production
Principal photography of Downfall took place over a 12-­week period (12 August–15
November 2003). All the interior scenes inside Hitler’s Wolf’s Lair in East Prus­sia
and in the Berlin Führerbunker ­were shot on sets constructed at Bavaria Studios
near Munich. Ironically, Hirschbiegel chose St. Petersburg, Rus­sia, to stand in for
war-­torn Berlin. On certain streets of the city the architecture was virtually indis-
tinguishable from Hitler’s capital b
­ ecause St. Petersburg’s early 18th-­century build-
ings had been designed by such German architects as Leo von Klenze and Georg
Peter Bärenz. The filmmakers found a street with empty buildings and obtained
permission to block it off for many weeks. T ­ here they built a façade of the war-­
torn Reich Chancellery and installed Berlin-­style street lamps, signs, WWII
90 D O W N FA L L [ G ER M A N : D E R U N T E R G A N G ]

bombing rubble, wrecked vehicles, ­etc. They ­were even permitted to dig up the
pavement to create defensive trenches, foxholes, and shell craters. Rus­sians acted
as extras, portraying both German and Rus­sian soldiers.

Plot Summary
The film begins with an interview clip from Blind Spot: Hitler’s Secretary (2002), fea-
turing the real Traudl Junge (1920–2002) expressing her remorse for admiring
Hitler in her youth. Then the film proper begins, showing a courtly Adolf Hitler
(Bruno Ganz) hiring Frl. Junge (Alexandra Maria Lara) as his secretary at the Wolf’s
Lair in East Prus­sia in November 1942. The story skips ahead almost two and half
years ­later, to 20 April 1945 (Hitler’s 56th birthday) during the ­Battle of Berlin. A
nearby artillery blast awakens Traudl, Frau Gerda Christian (Birgit Minichmayr),
and Frl. Constanze Manziarly (Bettina Redlich), Hitler’s vegetarian cook. In the
Führerbunker, Hitler enquires as to the source of the shelling. Gen. Wilhelm Burg-
dorf (Justus von Dohnányi) informs him that Berlin is u ­ nder artillery attack, and
Gen. Karl Koller (Hans H. Steinberg) further reports the shelling as indicating that
the Red Army is just miles away from the center of the city. In the midst of Hitler’s
birthday cele­bration, two of his officers, SS chief Heinrich Himmler (Ulrich Noethen)
and SS adjutant Hermann Fegelein (Thomas Kretschmann), implore their com-
mander to flee from Berlin, but Hitler decides to stay. In a Berlin street some mem-
bers of Hitler Youth are preparing an 88-mm flak gun for anti-­tank defense. Peter
Kranz (Donevan Gunia), a member of the Hitler Youth, ignores the pleas of his
disabled f­ather (Karl Kranzkowski) when he asks him to desert and save himself.
Elsewhere in the city, a physician (Christian Berkel) decides to stay in the face of
an evacuation order, persuading an SS general to allow him to continue his work.
Eva Braun throws a wild party in the Reich Chancellery featuring loud m ­ usic, rau-
cous dancing, and copious amounts of alcohol: a surreal bacchanal that ends
abruptly when a Rus­sian artillery shell blows out the win­dows, causing the cele-
brants to flee back to the Führerbunker. The next day, Gen. Helmuth Weidling
(Michael Mendl) is condemned to execution for commanding his troops to retreat
west. However, a­ fter he explains that t­ here has been a misunderstanding, Weidling
is promoted by Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel (Dieter Mann) to supervise the defense
of Berlin. During a military conference Hitler ­orders a counterattack by Felix
Steiner’s combat group to check the Soviet advance. Generals Krebs and Jodl reluc-
tantly inform him that Steiner’s forces are too weak to mount any such attack. Dis-
missing every­one from the room except for Keitel, Jodl, Krebs, and Burgdorf, Hitler
flies into a towering rage against his generals’ alleged treacherousness and incompe-
tence. ­After his anger is spent, Hitler concedes that he has lost the war, but still
refuses to leave Berlin. Instead, he is intent on remaining in his city and commit-
ting suicide. A ­ fter seeing hapless Volkssturm conscripts needlessly slaughtered
in b­ attle, Gen. Mohnke confronts Joseph Goebbels (Ulrich Matthes). Goebbels
admits to Mohnke that he does not feel badly for the fallen civilians for they
sketched out their fate when they first sided with Hitler. Minister of Armaments
Albert Speer (Heino Ferch) pays a farewell visit to Hitler and admits that he has
failed to follow the “scorched earth policy” commands. Displeased, Hitler does not
D O W N FA L L [ G ER M A N : D E R U N T E R G A N G ] 91

shake Speer’s hand when he leaves. At dinner, Hitler flies into a rage when he dis-
covers that Himmler has colluded with Count Folke Bernadotte to work out the
terms of Hitler’s surrender. Hitler demands that von Greim and his mistress, test
pi­lot Hanna Reitsch (Anna Thalbach), retrieve Himmler and his adjutant, Hermann
Fegelein (Thomas Kretschmann). Upon finding out that Fegelein has deserted,
Hitler o­ rders his execution. Reichsphysician SS Ernst-­Robert Grawitz (Christian
Hoening), the head of the German Red Cross who infamously performed h ­ uman
medical experiments for the Nazis, begs Hitler’s permission to leave Berlin.
When Hitler denies his request, Grawitz kills himself along with his f­amily by
setting off a pair of hand grenades over dinner. That night, Fegelein is arrested
and executed. Mohnke reports that the Red Army is only 300 to 400 meters
from the Reich Chancellery. Hitler reassures his officers that ­he’ll order Gen.
Walther Wenck’s 12th Army to break off from the Western Front and march east
to join the fight against the Soviets—an absurd, unworkable proposition. A ­ fter
midnight (29 April  1945), Hitler communicates his last w ­ ill and testament to
Traudl and then marries Eva Braun as a show of gratitude for her loyalty. Fi­nally
accepting that the situation is hopeless, Hitler decides to commit suicide to avoid
capture. Hitler consumes a last meal and says his goodbyes. He hands his Golden
Party Badge Number 1 to Magda Goebbels, who pleads with Hitler to flee Berlin.
Instead, Hitler remains and kills himself off-­screen. Eva Braun also commits sui-
cide. Their bodies are carried out of the bunker and cremated in a shell crater in
the Chancellery garden. Magda and Joseph Goebbels follow suit, murdering their
own ­children and killing themselves off-­screen. Military staff members evacuate
the bunker, but Krebs and Burgdorf also give in to suicide. Weidling broadcasts to
the city that Hitler is dead and declares that he ­will be seeking an immediate cease-
fire. Traudl, Gerda, and the remaining SS troops join Schenck, Mohnke, and
Günsche as they try to flee the city. Meanwhile, the child soldiers have all been
killed—­except for Peter, who discovers that his parents have been executed. With
Red Army soldiers approaching, Traudl decides to leave the bunker. She and Peter
join up and make their way through the ruined streets, avoiding Rus­sian soldiers. At
a bridge, Peter finds a discarded bicycle. They both get on it—­Peter sitting “side
­saddle” on the top tube while Traudl pedals—­and the pair bicycle away from Berlin.
An epilogue describes the fates of the other Führerbunker inhabitants, and the film
ends with a final excerpt from Heller’s documentary.

Reception
Downfall premiered in Munich on 8 September 2004 and went into wide release
in Germany and Austria a week l­ater. The movie was also showcased at a number
of international film festivals, and an extended version was shown in two parts on
German tele­v i­sion in October 2005. Final box office numbers ­were impressive;
Downfall made $93.6 million against an estimated production cost of €13.5 mil-
lion ($15.9 million). The film also garnered many film awards, including a 2005
Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Language Film of the Year. Reviews ­were mostly
positive; many ­were adulatory. Hitler biographer Ian Kershaw exemplified affirma-
tive opinion when he extolled the film as a “superb reconstruction” and avowed
92 D U N K I R K

that he “could not imagine how a film of Hitler’s last days could possibly be better
done.” Kershaw also added his voice to a chorus of praise for Bruno Ganz’s per­for­
mance: “Of all the screen depictions of the Führer . . . ​this is the only one which
to me is compelling. Part of this is the voice. Ganz has Hitler’s voice to near per-
fection. It is chillingly au­then­tic” (Kershaw, 2004). Still, some critics panned the
film. For example, J. Hoberman found it both “grimly self-­important and inescap-
ably trivializing” (Hoberman, 2005). The most scathing critique of Downfall was
rendered by another German filmmaker, Wim Wenders. For Wenders, the movie
seems to adopt young Traudl Junge’s naïve point of view: enthrallment to Hitler’s
charisma not sufficiently countered by the bookend clips of the real Junge repudi-
ating her younger self. Wenders also objected to Hirschbiegel’s decision to not show
Hitler and Goebbels in the act of committing suicide: “Why c­ an’t we see Hitler and
Goebbels d ­ ying? Are they not becoming mythical figures by not exhibiting them?
Why do they deserve so worthy an outlet, while all the other good and bad Ger-
mans are [graphically] killed? . . . ​The film has no opinion on anything, especially
of fascism or Hitler . . . ​so the seducer and the victim find themselves united once
again in the arbitrary lack of attitude that makes this film so incredibly annoying.
[This] lack of narrative [slant] leads the audience into a black hole, in which they
are induced (almost) imperceptibly to see [history] this time somehow from the
perspective of the perpetrators, at least with a benevolent understanding for them”
(Wenders, 2004).

Reel History Versus Real History


In general terms Downfall ranks as one of the most historically accurate films ever
made. It does, however, rearrange the order of some of the events and resorts to
some streamlining. Furthermore, Peter Franz, the Hitler Youth boy decorated by
Hitler, is a fictional character, so his joining up with Traudl Junge to flee Berlin is
also a fabrication. In real­ity, Junge did not escape Berlin so easily. ­After hiding out in
a cellar for a week with other Führerbunker refugees, Junge was arrested by the
Soviets on 9 May 1945, imprisoned and interrogated for the next five months, and
­later hospitalized with diphtheria. She returned to Munich, her home town, in 1946.

DUNKIRK (2017)

Synopsis
Dunkirk is a war film written, co-­produced, and directed by Christopher Nolan. A
co-­production between the United Kingdom, the United States, France, and the
Netherlands, the film depicts the successful May 1940 evacuation of more than
300,000 Allied (mostly British) troops from the beaches of Dunkirk, thus avoid-
ing capture or annihilation by the victorious Nazi forces that surrounded them dur-
ing the fall of France in the early part of the Second World War.

Background
When Hitler’s armies overran the Low Countries and outflanked France in
May 1940, the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) and remnants of Belgian forces
DUNKIRK 93

Allied troops ner­vously await evacuation in Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk (2017).


­(Warner Bros./Photofest)

and three French armies ­were forced to retreat to France’s Atlantic coast. By 20
May ­these troops found themselves cut off and threatened with annihilation on
the beaches at Dunkirk, whereupon Winston Churchill’s Cabinet hatched “Oper-
ation Dynamo”: the evacuation of the BEF back to ­England by sea. The massive
undertaking began a week ­later, on 27 May, and continued ­until 4 June. Over that
nine-­day period 861 Allied vessels—of which 693 ­were British, mostly requisi-
tioned private boats—­rescued 338,226 Allied troops (198,000 British and 140,000
French, Polish, and Belgian soldiers). Though it was a major turning point of the
Second World War ­because it enabled Britain to fight on, the Dunkirk evacuation
was hardly an unqualified success. As Churchill put it, “Wars are not won by evac-
uations.” The British had to abandon all their vehicles and heavy guns and equip-
ment: enough to outfit eight to ten divisions. They also lost 84 Royal Air Force
(RAF) planes and 240 naval vessels (including six destroyers) during the Dunkirk
evacuation. Nor did every­one make it out. A rearguard force of 5,000 British and
35,000 French troops had to be left b­ ehind, ­were subsequently captured, and w
­ ere
consigned to slave l­abor in Germany for the duration of the war—­a grim after-
math not widely reported. A moral victory in an other­w ise disastrous phase of the
war for the Allies, the so-­called “Miracle of Dunkirk” received its first cinematic
dramatization in almost 50 years with Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk (2017). Nolan
first conceived of such a film in 1995, when he and his then-­girlfriend (now wife)
94 D U N K I R K

Emma Thomas, hired a small yacht to sail the 26 miles from E ­ ngland to Dunkirk—­a
Channel crossing that proved to be unexpectedly arduous. Almost 20 years and a
string of highly successful films (e.g., Memento, the Batman trilogy, Interstellar) ­later,
Nolan felt he was ready to take on an epic-­scale war film. He started by reading
firsthand accounts by Dunkirk survivors at the Imperial War Museum and also
relied on Forgotten Voices of Dunkirk (Ebery, 2010): an oral history compiled by his-
torian Joshua Levine, who was hired as the film’s historical advisor. Nolan and
Levine also interviewed a number of el­derly Dunkirk veterans in person. A ­ fter
researching the ­battle, Nolan deci­ded to make a film that would use fictive char-
acters and concentrate, à la Hitchcock, on building suspense insofar as the evac-
uation was a tense race against time. He also opted to emphasize chaos and
danger by creating a nonlinear narrative structure that crosscuts between three
perspectives—­land, sea, and air—­though not in the conventional way that would
indicate actions in each sphere happening si­mul­ta­neously. To further concentrate
mood, Nolan kept the emphasis on visual storytelling; dialogue is so sparse that
the screenplay came in at only 76 pages, whereas the film’s ­r unning time clocked
in at a modest 106 minutes: Nolan’s shortest film to date.

Production
In keeping with his preference for analog over digital formats and to achieve opti-
mal image quality, Nolan shot 75 ­percent of the movie using 15/70-mm IMAX film
(the other 25 ­percent was shot using Super Panavision 65-mm film). Nolan also
refrained from using computer-­generated imagery (CGI). Other than a few “name”
actors (e.g., Kenneth Branagh, Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy), Nolan deci­ded to cast
young unknowns in key roles. Principal photography began at Dunkirk—­w ith a
film crew of 200, hundreds of extras, and some 50 boats—on 23 May 2016, almost
76 years to the day that the a­ ctual evacuation began. A­ fter a month of filming on
Dunkirk’s beaches and dunes, the shoot moved to The Ijsselmeer, a closed-­off
inland bay in the central Netherlands, to film scenes supposedly taking place at
sea. In late July the production then moved to Dorset, ­England, to film the depar-
ture and arrival of Mr. Dawson’s boat, Moonstone, at Weymouth harbor (set-­dressed
to look like 1940). Related scenes of evacuees being put on trains a­ fter disembar-
kation ­were filmed at nearby Swanage Railway Station. Thereafter, some interior
filming took place at Warner Bros. studios in Burbank, California, while additional
exterior scenes ­were shot at Point Vicente Interpretive Center and Light­house, Ran-
cho Palos Verdes, a location remote enough to allow for loud simulated gunfire
and explosions. Fifteen weeks of filming concluded on 2 September 2016.

Plot Summary
[I. The Mole] Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young British private, walks the streets
of Dunkirk with fellow soldiers as German leaflets fall on them from the sky,
informing them that they are surrounded and should surrender. Suddenly shots
ring out. Though all of his comrades are killed as they try to seek cover, Tommy
makes it to an Allied-­held street barricade. He soon arrives at the beach and meets
Gibson (Aneurin Barnard), another young soldier, who is burying a dead soldier
DUNKIRK 95

in the sand. ­A fter the two silently bond, they pick up a wounded soldier on a
stretcher and rush him to a departing hospital ship as a pretext for their own escape.
Ordered off the ship a­ fter delivering the wounded soldier, the two men then hide
­under the pier, ready to try and stow away, but the ship is suddenly bombed and
sunk by a German Stuka dive-­bomber. The two men manage to save Alex (Harry
Styles), a young soldier. The trio gets on another vessel that night, but it is sunk by
a German U-­boat. Gibson saves Alex and Tommy from drowning, and they find a
way back to shore. The next day, they board a small beached trawler with a group
of soldiers from the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders and wait inside its hold for
the tide to come in and refloat the boat out to sea. However, the boat is not within
the British perimeter, and the Germans shoot at it for target practice. When the
tide eventually rises, t­ here are so many bullet holes in the boat’s hull that it cannot
stay afloat. Alex then makes allegations that Gibson—­who has remained mute—
is a German spy and must leave to balance the ship. Tommy comes to his aid, but
Gibson admits that his true heritage is French—he has co-­opted the identity of a
British soldier. The ship begins to sink and the troops evacuate, but as they do,
Gibson gets tangled in a chain and drowns. Alex and Tommy eventually board
Mr. Dawson’s (Mark Rylance) boat and return home to a hero’s welcome by citi-
zens. [II. The Sea] At a dock in E ­ ngland, Mr. Dawson, a middle-­aged civilian sailor,
decides not to turn over his boat to the Royal Navy to evacuate soldiers from
Dunkirk but opts instead to sail it himself, with the assistance of his 17-­year-­old
son, Peter (Tom Glynn-­Carney), and Peter’s friend (George Barry Keoghan). On
their trip across the En­glish Channel, they encounter a shivering, shell-­shocked
soldier (Cillian Murphy), the sole survivor of a U-­boat attack, huddled on the stern
of his mostly submerged vessel. The soldier climbs aboard but once he realizes they
are heading to Dunkirk, he attempts to turn the boat around. A scuffle ensues;
George is knocked below decks and sustains a severe head injury. When a Spitfire
ditches in the ­water nearby, Mr. Dawson insists on helping the pi­lot, Collins (Jack
Lowden), who is stuck in his cockpit by a damaged canopy as the plane sinks. ­After
they f­ ree Collins and help him aboard the boat, Peter reveals that his older b ­ rother,
now dead, was a Hurricane pi­lot. Mr. Dawson l­ater saves the lives of several sol-
diers, including Alex and Tommy. George dies from his injury, but Peter decides
against telling the shivering soldier about this, insisting that George w­ ill fine. They
eventually reach ­England, and Mr. Dawson is celebrated for his heroics as George’s
body is removed from the boat. The local paper ­later labels 17-­year-­old George a
“Dunkirk hero.” [III. The Air] In the skies over the En­glish Channel, three Spitfire
pilots—­Farrier (Tom Hardy), Collins, and their unnamed leader—­approach
Dunkirk. The leader is the first to go in a dogfight with a Luftwaffe fighter plane.
Continuing east, Farrier and Collins are successful in taking down a Nazi plane,
but Collins’ Spitfire is fired upon and he crashes into the sea. Farrier continues
alone. Though low on fuel, he guards the skies over the Dunkirk beaches, getting
applause from all the soldiers—­even Commander Bolton (Kenneth Branagh), the
highest-­ranking officer on the beach. Out of fuel, Collins cranks down his land-
ing gear by hand and lands his plane on the beach north of Dunkirk, sets it on
fire, and is taken prisoner by German soldiers.
96 D U N K I R K

Reception
­After its London premiere on 13 July 2017, with director, actors, Prince Harry, and
Dunkirk veterans in attendance, Dunkirk was screened at the Galway Film Fleadh
[Festival] on 16 July. It was then released in most of Eu­rope on 19 July and in the
United States and many other countries worldwide on 21 July. Bud­geted at $100
million, Dunkirk was an expensive film to make, but the filmmakers’ summer block-
buster release strategy—­unusual for what was considered a niche market film—­
paid off handsomely; Dunkirk (widest release: 4,014 theaters) recouped all of its
production costs in its first weekend in theaters and ultimately earned $525
million by its closing date (23 Nov. 2017). Most reviews ­were overwhelmingly
positive. As was typical of many film critics, Philip Kemp praised the film’s
straightforward narrative style: “With Dunkirk, [Christopher Nolan’s] first film deal-
ing with a real-­life event, the director has shifted out of ce­re­bral overdrive and
rediscovered a welcome directness and simplicity. A lot of the time, in fact, it’s what
he d
­ oesn’t do that makes the film so power­ful. The payoff, in terms of sheer emo-
tional and visceral impact, is im­mense” (Kemp, 2017). Manhola Dargis called
Dunkirk “a movie that is insistently humanizing despite its monumentality, a bal-
ance that is as much a po­liti­cal choice as an aesthetic one” (Dargis, 2017).

Reel History Versus Real History


As the film correctly shows, most aerial combat occurred away from the beaches,
giving stranded BEF soldiers the false impression that the RAF was sitting out the
fight—­though it is true that Britain conserved planes and ships to oppose an antic-
ipated Nazi invasion. Yet insofar as Christopher Nolan concentrates on re-­creating
the subjective experience of the evacuation through a few fictional characters
(mostly British), the movie eschews any systematic pre­sen­ta­tion of the larger
military/po­liti­c al context. Made by an Anglo-­A merican director and financed
with American money, Dunkirk largely omits the French. Viewers ­w ill get the false
impression that only the BEF was evacuated but 120,000 French soldiers and
20,000 Polish and Belgian soldiers ­were also rescued. Even more galling to the
French was the movie’s failure to depict France’s role in making the evacuation
pos­si­ble by holding off the Germans. In a blistering critique of the Anglo-­Saxon
bias of Dunkirk, French film critic Jacques Mandelbaum posed a series of rhetori-
cal questions: “Where are the other 40,000 [French troops] who sacrificed them-
selves to defend the city against a superior e­ nemy in arms and in numbers? Where
are the members of the First Army, who, abandoned by their allies . . . ​neverthe-
less prevent[ed] several divisions of the Wehrmacht from [marching into] Dunkirk?
Where is Dunkerque, half destroyed by the bombardments, but rendered ­here
invisible?” (Mandelbaum, 2017). Where indeed? Dunkirk also elides the colonial
soldiers from Britain’s empire in South Asia (mostly Indian and Pakistani troops)
who fought at Dunkirk. As Yasmin Khan notes, “The myth of Dunkirk reinforces
the idea that Britain stood alone. It is a po­liti­cal tool in the hands of t­hose who
would separate British history from Eu­ro­pean history and who want to reinforce
the myths that underpin Brexit” (Khan, 2017). With elisions come distortions. The
film’s focus on the intrepid Mr. Dawson gives viewers the erroneous notion that
DUNKIRK 97

the so-­called “­Little Ships of Dunkirk,” the 700 private boats that helped rescue
the BEF, ­were skippered by their civilian ­owners. A few ­were, but most ­were turned
over to the Admiralty and manned by Royal Navy crews. Nolan’s use of fictional
or composite characters also met with criticism, especially in the case of Kenneth
Branagh’s character, Commander Bolton, who seems to have been modeled on at
least two Royal Navy officers: Captain (­later Admiral) William “Bill” Tennant
(1890–1963) and James Campbell Clouston (1900–1940), pier-­master of “the mole.”
Clouston or­ga­nized and regulated the flow of men along the mole into the waiting
ships for five days and nights. He was killed the last night of the evacuation. Clous-
ton’s son Dane, 78, got in touch with the film’s producers in January 2017 to ask
if his late ­father could be credited, but was told it was not pos­si­ble to honor ­every
hero. Dane Clouston told the Daily Mail: “I was quite upset he is not referred to by
his proper name” (Adams, 2017).
E
84 CHARLIE MOPIC [AKA 84C MOPIC] (1989)

Synopsis
Written and directed by Vietnam veteran Patrick Sheane Duncan, 84 Charlie MoPic
is an in­de­pen­dently produced American combat drama set during the Vietnam War
about a small, stealthy long-­range reconnaissance patrol (LRRP) (pronounced
“lurp”) that probes deep into enemy-­held territory to gather intelligence. The story
is told through the eyes of an army motion picture (MoPic) cameraman who has
been assigned to make a documentary about the patrol.

Background
Patrick Sheane Duncan served in Vietnam with the U.S. Army’s 173rd Airborne
Brigade (“Sky Soldiers”) in 1968–1969, was twice wounded in combat, and earned
a Bronze Star for bravery. Some years ­after his military ser­v ice, Duncan began to
write spec scripts. The idea for 84C MoPic occurred to Duncan in 1983 while he
waited in traffic that had piled up due to an accident on the highway. A TV news
cameraman arrived on the scene and began to shoot footage as he wandered amid
the wreckage. “I watched him go up to a w ­ oman who was sitting on a hillside. He
stuck the camera in her bleeding face. It was horribly intimate. I said, ‘Aha, this is
the way to do my film’ ” (Norman, p. H15). Duncan wrote the screenplay in five
days, but c­ ouldn’t find a director who understood his vision for the film. He deci­
ded to learn how to direct himself at Robert Redford’s Sundance Institute. With
Sundance cachet and the success of other Vietnam movies, Duncan and his pro-
ducer, Michael Nolin, w ­ ere fi­nally able to find financing five years a­ fter the script
was completed.

Production
84C MoPic was shot (in Super 16 mm) in Southern California with a crew of 30,
on a bud­get of just over $1 million. Prior to start of the shoot (which lasted only
17 days: 9–27 May 1988), Vietnam veteran Capt. Russ “Gunny” Thurman, USMC,
Retired (also the technical advisor for Vietnam War Stories) conducted a week-­long
training course for the movie’s seven actors playing members of a long-­range recon-
naissance patrol with the 173rd  Airborne Brigade. Thurman taught the men
reconnaissance techniques; stealth in the field; camouflage discipline; and the use
of small arms, including M-16A1 r­ ifles, an M-60 machine gun, and the M-79 gre-
nade launcher. B ­ ecause the story involved the patrol r­unning into an e­ nemy
ambush, Thurman drilled the actors ­until they ­were intimately familiar with their
weapons and could reload them quickly and correctly in a combat situation.
84 CHARLIE MOPIC [AKA 84C MOPIC] 99

Plot Summary
The setting is a remote U.S. Army base in the Central Highlands, South Vietnam,
1969. For a training film, an 84C MoPic (Motion Picture Specialist) (Byron James)
is assigned to a squad of six soldiers about to embark on a three-­day Long-­R ange
Reconnaissance Patrol: Sgt. “OD” O’Donigan (Richard Brooks), Lt. “LT” Drewery
(Jonathan Emerson), Pvt. “Easy” Easley (Nicholas Cascone), SPEC/4 “Pretty Boy”
Baldwin (Jason Tomlins), SPEC/4 “Hammer” Thorpe (Christopher Burgard) and
“Cracker” (Glenn Morshower). The men board a Huey he­li­cop­ter, are flown to a
drop-­off site, disembark, and begin to move into the jungle. During a rest break
OD discovers that Easy is packing marijuana. Noting that the acrid smell of the
smoke could give away their position, OD dumps the offending substance on the
ground. The next morning Pretty Boy tells MoPic that he was mistaken for dead
­after an ­enemy mortar round hit close by. He also tells MoPic he’s been incredibly
lucky (e.g., a bullet hit him in the helmet and merely creased his hair). In another
filmed interview Cracker tells MoPic he came from a large, poor “white trash” f­ amily
in South Carolina so he enlisted to have a c­ areer and take advantage of educational
and retirement benefits. His working-­class philosophy is “Do your job,” right or
wrong, to put food on the t­able. Asked if he resents being led by a black man,
Cracker angrily asserts his admiration and brotherly love for OD and stops the
interview. ­After encountering a booby trap, they leave the trail and duck out of
sight just as an ­enemy patrol passes close by. Soon thereafter, the squad spots a
North Viet­nam­ese Army (NVA) unit of about 20 soldiers, and OD hatches a plan
to attack them. Easy interviews LT on camera; LT says he sees the army as a big
corporation where the “advancement potential is enormous.” The men set up a
booby trap on the trail with a grenade and tripwire to “out-­Chuck Chuck.” The
squad discovers the NVA force ­they’ve been surveilling has grown overnight to
the size of a regiment. Easy gets on the radio and transmits map coordinates for
an artillery barrage and airstrike. LT declares the LRRP mission completed and
radios to arrange for a rendezvous with a he­li­cop­ter at a nearby village. On the
way back, the squad decides to attack a small squad of ­enemy soldiers, killing five
of the Viet Cong, but one remains alive, instigating a heated debate. Pretty Boy
wants to finish him off, but LT wants to bring him back for interrogation; OD sides
with LT. Just then, the squad comes ­under heavy small arms fire. Pretty Boy is hit,
stranded in the open, and hit several more times. Hammer tries to rescue him but
is also wounded. The squad is pinned down and cannot get to Pretty Boy so OD
decides to put him out of his misery. A ­ fter the skirmish ends, OD removes Pretty
Boy’s dog tags and tapes one of them into his mouth. The squad can carry back
only one body; Americans never leave their dead ­behind, so OD demands that LT
kill their wounded Viet Cong prisoner. LT stabs the man but does not kill him; OD
finishes the job. The squad moves out but is soon ambushed. OD takes a bullet to
the stomach but Cracker takes three rounds to the abdomen and quickly dies. OD
wraps up the corpses of Pretty Boy and Cracker and tells his surviving squad
mates that “­We’ll send a chopper back for them.” On camera, Hammer speculates
that luck migrates from one soldier to another and he now feels that he has Pretty
Boy’s luck for surviving the ambush. Overcome by dread, Easy begins to panic,
but OD promises to take care of him. As OD weakens from his wound, LT tries to
100 84 CHARLIE MOPIC [AKA 84C MOPIC]

take over but OD insists on walking point. As they move out Hammer is killed by
a booby trap. The four survivors enter the village of their rendezvous destination
but find it deserted and burning, with civilians lying dead on the ground. The men
hunker down and await the he­li­cop­ter but come ­under intense fire just as it arrives.
OD, LT, and Easy make it to the chopper but MoPic is shot and killed trying to
reach it, making the film just seen “found footage.”

Reception
84 Charlie MoPic premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January 1989, where
it received a G
­ rand Jury Prize nomination. A shoestring in­de­pen­dent production,
the movie had a very limited theatrical release through New C ­ entury Vista in
March–­April 1989 (just $154,264 in ticket sales). Principal revenues came from
the sale of cable TV broadcast rights to Cinemax and sales rights to Columbia
Pictures Home Entertainment for the VHS tape market. Besides the Sundance nom-
ination, 84 Charlie MoPic was nominated for two 1990 In­de­pen­dent Spirit Awards.
Reviews ­were mostly positive. For Mike Pearson (Scripps-­Howard), 84 Charlie MoPic
achieved “a haunting level of realism and resonance” (Pearson, 1989, p. 66). Roger
Ebert gave the film a qualified “thumbs up”: “The strength h ­ ere is that the movie
seems to happen as we watch it. The tradeoff is that the director has less freedom
to pick and choose his shots for dramatic effect; once he establishes the point of
view, he’s stuck with it [but] . . . ​It is a brave and original attempt to rec­ord noth-
ing more or less than the ­actual daily experience of a unit on patrol, drawn out of
the memories of men who w ­ ere ­there” (Ebert, 1989).

Reel History Versus Real History


Long-­range reconnaissance patrols (LRRPs) ­were common during the Vietnam War:
23,000 ­were conducted, and they accounted for some 10,000 ­enemy killed in action
(KIA) through ambushes, airstrikes, and artillery. The LRRP depicted in 84 Char-
lie MoPic is credible in terms of its mission, size, configuration, and the armaments
carried. As is depicted in the movie, LRRPs w ­ ere recon missions conducted by
squads of five to eight men, led by a seasoned noncommissioned officer (NCO),
and lightly armed for mobility’s sake. Still, cinematic imperatives clash with his-
torical realism in a number of ways. By their very nature, LRRPs ­were expected to
be stealthy. This meant taping down equipment, using hand signals, and talking
as l­ ittle and as quietly as pos­si­ble to elude detection and avoiding contact with the
­enemy. The soldiers on recon patrol in 84 Charlie MoPic talk constantly and loudly,
making for compelling storytelling but poor verisimilitude. The squad’s fateful deci-
sion to engage an e­ nemy unit rather than g­ oing around it enlivens the action but
constitutes another violation of verisimilitude. Furthermore, as of February 1969,
all U.S. Army LRRP units w ­ ere folded into the newly formed 75th Infantry Regi-
ment (Rangers), so a LRRP by a unit from the 173rd Airborne Brigade would have
been unlikely. As for a lone Army cameraman accompanying a LRRP for the pur-
poses of making a training film—­this, too, is highly unlikely. The U.S. Army Sig-
nal Corps has been making training films since the 1930s but all of them have
been produced u ­ nder controlled conditions far away from combat zones. Despite
EMPIRE OF THE SUN 101

84 Charlie MoPic’s violations of realism, Gordon L. Rottman, a widely published


military author who served in the 5th Special Forces Group in Vietnam in 1969–
1970, rates 84 Charlie MoPic as one of the most historically accurate films about the
Vietnam War (Rottman, p. 58).

EMPIRE OF THE SUN (1987)

Synopsis
Empire of the Sun is an American war film/coming-­of-­age drama based on J. G. Bal-
lard’s semi-­autobiographical novel that bears the same title. Directed by Steven
Spielberg and starring John Malkovich, Miranda Richardson, Nigel Havers, and
Christian Bale, the film recounts the saga of Jamie “Jim” Graham, a British boy who
goes from living in wealthy circumstances in Shanghai to becoming a prisoner of
war in a Japa­nese internment camp during World War II.

Background
Born and raised in the Shanghai International Settlement in China, acclaimed Brit-
ish writer J. G. Ballard (1930–2009) lived through the Japa­nese occupation that
started the day a­ fter Pearl Harbor and ended shortly before Japan’s surrender on 2
September 1945. Some 40 years ­later Ballard wrote Empire of the Sun (Gollancz,
1984), a quasi-­autobiographical novel derived from his boyhood years living ­under
Japa­nese rule, mostly at the Lunghua Civil Assembly Center, a Japa­nese intern-
ment camp in Shanghai. Short-­listed for the Man Booker Prize, Ballard’s novel
garnered rave reviews, earned Ballard an estimated £500,000 in royalties, and
attracted the attention of Hollywood. Warner Bros. purchased the film rights and
hired Harold Becker to direct, Robert Shapiro to produce, and playwright Tom
Stoppard to write the screen adaptation in collaboration with Ballard. ­After Becker
dropped out, David Lean was hired to direct, and Steven Spielberg took over as
producer. Lean worked on pre-­production for a year and a half before fi­nally ced-
ing the directorial reins to Spielberg, who had a closer personal affinity to the
proj­ect that stemmed from his interest in coming-­of-­age stories and a lifelong
fascination with World War II (his f­ather had been a radio operator on B-25
Mitchell bombers in the China-­Burma Theater). Spielberg then hired Menno
Meyjes (The Color Purple) to do an uncredited rewrite before Stoppard was
rehired to write a fourth and final draft, that is, the shooting script (completed on
2 February 1987).

Production
­After his casting team vetted over 4,000 hopefuls, Steven Spielberg hired Chris-
tian Bale, a 13-­year-­old British actor from Wales, to play the lead role of Jamie
Graham. The shoot for Empire of the Sun took place in E ­ ngland, Spain, and China
and lasted 100 days (1 March to 24 June 1987). While some scenes ­were filmed at
Elstree Studios in Hertfordshire, southern E­ ngland, the interior shots of the Graham
­family home in Shanghai w ­ ere filmed in a bungalow at Sunningdale, ­England, and
102 EMPIRE OF THE SUN

exterior shots w ­ ere filmed at a h­ ouse in Knutsford, a town near Manchester,


­England. ­A fter a year of negotiations with Shanghai Film Studios and China Film
Co-­Production Corporation in 1985, the filmmakers ­were granted permission for
a three-­week shoot in Shanghai in March 1987. Signs ­were altered to traditional
Chinese characters, entire city blocks near the Huangpu River waterfront w ­ ere
closed off for filming, and over 5,000 local extras ­were used for the chaotic mob
scene where Jamie is separated from his m ­ other. Members of the ­People’s Libera-
tion Army ­were enlisted to play Japa­nese soldiers. The Lunghua detention center
set was built inside the abandoned Beckton Gas Works in East London (where
Stanley Kubrick filmed the Vietnam scenes for Full Metal Jacket in 1986). The
Suzhou Creek prison camp set was built near Jerez, 80 miles northwest of Seville,
in southwest Spain. Four Harvard SNJ (aka North American T-6 Texan) trainer
aircraft w ­ ere modified in France to resemble Mitsubishi A6M Zeros. Three
restored North American P-51D Mustang fighter planes—­two from Stephen
Grey’s The Fighter Collection and one from Ray Hanna’s Old Flying Machine
Com­pany (both based at Duxford Airfield, Cambridgeshire, E ­ ngland)—­were
flown in the film. Hanna and his son, Mark, and Michael “Hoof” Proudfoot of
The Fighter Collection flew the P-51s for a complex and spectacular air-­raid scene
on the Japa­nese base adjacent to the Suzhou Creek Internment Camp that took
over 10 days to film (­later reshot at considerable expense in Trebujena, Spain
­because Spielberg felt the original lacked authenticity). Large-­scale remote con-
trol flying models w­ ere also used, including an 18-­foot wingspan B-29 used for
the supply drop scene. Industrial Light & Magic designed the visual effects
sequences with some computer-­generated imagery (CGI) also used for the Naga-
saki atomic bomb flash. J. G. Ballard makes a cameo appearance at the costume
party scene.

Plot Summary
During Japan’s invasion of China, young Jamie Graham (Christian Bale) is enjoy-
ing the privileged life of an upper-­class British expatriate in the Shanghai Interna-
tional Settlement. A ­ fter they attack Pearl Harbor, the Japa­nese occupy Shanghai’s
foreign settlements. In the chaos that ensues, Jamie is separated from his parents.
He returns to their deserted home but is forced to venture into the city a­ fter the
food runs out. Jamie attempts to turn himself in to a group of Japa­nese militia-
men, but he is turned away. He is then taken in by Basie ( John Malkovich)—­
­­a stranded American ship’s steward and a hustler—­and his partner-­in-­crime, Frank
Demarest (Joe Pantoliano), who nicknames him “Jim.” To mollify Basie and Frank,
Jamie leads them back to his neighborhood where they can loot valuables. At Jamie’s
old ­house, the trio is arrested by Japa­nese soldiers and taken to Lunghua Civilian
Assembly Center outside Shanghai for pro­cessing. Soon thereafter a truck arrives
to take some internees to the Suzhou Creek Internment Camp. Basie is among t­ hose
selected to go. Jamie is not, but he convinces the soldiers to take him along. When
he reaches the camp, Jim walks to the airfield and watches workers fixing up a
squadron of Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighters and trades salutes with fighter pi­lots.
­Later, resourceful Jim survives in the camp by ­running a lucrative trading network,
EMPIRE OF THE SUN 103

involving even the camp’s commander, Sgt. Nagata (Masatô Ibu). Dr. Rawlins (Nigel
Havers), the camp’s British doctor, becomes Jim’s surrogate f­ather and mentor. In
the aftermath of a bombing raid, Sgt. Nagata commands that the prisoners’ hospi-
tal be obliterated, but changes course when Jim asks for forgiveness. Through the
barbed wire fencing, Jim befriends a teenaged Kamikaze pi­lot trainee (Takatarô
Kataoka). He also visits Basie in the American prisoner of war (POW) barracks.
Basie tasks Jim with setting up snare traps on the perimeter of the camp’s wire
(a way to test the area for land mines as Basie is plotting to escape). When the work
is completed, Basie lets Jim join him in the American barracks. One morning Jim
salutes departing Kamikaze pi­lots by singing “Suo Gân,” a traditional Welsh lullaby.
The base is suddenly attacked by a flight of USAAF P-51 Mustang fighters. Over-
joyed at the sight, Jim climbs up a pagoda for a better vantage point. Dr. Rawlins
follows Jim in order to rescue him, whereupon Jim becomes emotional b ­ ecause he
is unable to remember his parents’ f­aces. The Japa­nese evacuate the camp, and
Basie escapes during the confusion, leaving Jim ­behind though he had promised
to take Jim with him. During their evacuation march, many of the camp’s prison-
ers die from exhaustion, disease, and starvation. Arriving at a football stadium near
Nantao, Jim recognizes his parents’ Packard among war booty looted by the Japa­
nese. Waking up next to a young ­woman’s corpse, Jim witnesses the bright flash
from the atomic bombing of Nagasaki hundreds of miles to the East (9 August 1945).
Jim slips away from the group, wanders back to Suzhou Creek, and soon learns
that Japan has surrendered and the war is over. He also encounters the young kami-
kaze Japa­nese pi­lot trainee he befriended earlier. Basie reappears with a group of
armed Americans who have arrived to loot airdropped Red Cross containers. Jim’s
young friend is about to cut a mango for Jim with his katana (samurai sword) when
one of the Americans, mistakenly believing Jim to be in harm’s way, murders the
Japa­nese youth. Basie volunteers to help Jim locate his parents, but Jim opts to stay
­behind. Jim is located by American soldiers and brought to an orphanage, where
he is fi­nally reunited with his m
­ other and f­ather.

Reception
During its seven-­week run in the United States and Canada (11 December 1987–
28 January 1988; widest release: 673 theaters), Empire of the Sun took in $22.2 mil-
lion. It earned an additional $44.5 million in other countries, for a worldwide
total of $66.7 million—­almost double its $35 million production budget—­but was
still considered a box office flop, especially by Spielberg standards; Empire of the
Sun ranks near the bottom of Spielberg’s 30-­film oeuvre for box office revenues.
The movie did rack up lots of award nominations—­two Golden Globes and six
Oscars—­and won three BAFTA Awards (for cinematography, sound design, and
­music score). In keeping with tepid box office and award results, reviews ­were
mixed. Janet Maslin credited Spielberg for infusing the film with “a visual splen-
dor, a heroic adventurousness and an im­mense scope that make it unforgettable”
(Maslin, 1987). Conversely, Desson Howe found the movie visually “flashy” but
ultimately rather puerile: “In a way, Spielberg is to film what Michael Jackson is to
pop. Both grew up within their respective arts rather than in real life, their ­human
104 ­ENEMY AT THE GATE

growth on perpetual hold. Thus, ­we’re doomed to watching (or hearing) their end-
less perspectives on the ways of childhood” (Howe, 1987).

Reel History Versus Real History


The film mostly follows its source material, J. G. Ballard’s novel, quite faithfully,
but Ballard himself had already strayed far from the ­actual facts of his own biog-
raphy in writing Empire of the Sun. In book and movie the Ballard figure, Jamie
Graham, is separated from his parents in the chaos that ensues ­after the Japa­nese
takeover of Shanghai’s International Settlement. The settlement was indeed occu-
pied by the Japa­nese the day ­after Pearl Harbor, but the Ballard ­family continued
to live in their home at 31A Amherst Ave­nue in the British Concession for another
16 months a­ fter 8 December 1941, and young James Graham (“J. G.”) Ballard was
never separated from his f­amily during the war. In March 1943 Ballard, his par-
ents, and his four-­year-­old ­sister ­were interned with other foreign civilians at the
Lunghua Camp in the south of the city (now Shanghai Zhongxue). They lived
together in a small room in G Block and remained at Lunghua with 2,000 other
internees ­until the end of the war in late August 1945: a period of two and a half
years that Ballard would ­later remember as “largely happy” (J.G. Ballard, 2009).
The movie’s depiction of Jim’s scuffling time alone in Shanghai, his entanglement
with Basie, his l­ater interment at Suzhou Creek Camp, his evacuation to Nantao,
the killing of the young kamikaze pilot—­all t­ hese events are pure fiction that lend
the narrative greater drama and provide a basis for Jim’s maturation pro­cess. As
depicted in the movie, however, t­here w ­ ere American air raids on Japa­nese posi-
tions near the camp, and at the end of the war a B-29 dropped relief supplies by
canisters attached to parachutes for the hungry internees.

­E N E M Y AT T H E G AT E S ( 2 0 0 1 )

Synopsis
­Enemy at the Gates is a French-­American war film written and directed by Jean-­
Jacques Annaud and based on William Craig’s ­Enemy at the Gates: The ­Battle for
Sta­lin­grad (1973): a history of the World War II b
­ attle in the winter of 1942–1943.
The film’s main character (played by Jude Law) is a fictionalized version of Soviet
sniper Vassili Zaitsev, who engages in a snipers’ duel with Major Erwin König, a
crack Wehrmacht sniper (played by Ed Harris).

Background
Rus­sian snipers played an impor­tant role in World War II, especially during the
decisive B
­ attle of Sta­lin­grad (23 August 1942–2 February 1943), where they picked
off over 1,200 German officers and noncommissioned officers (NCOs). The most
celebrated of t­ hese snipers was Chief Master Sergeant Vassili Grigoryevich Zaitsev
(1915–1991), aka “Zayats” (“The Hare”), 2nd Battalion, 1047th ­R ifle Regiment,
284th Tomsk R ­ ifle Division. In a 38-­day period (10 November–17 December 1942)
Zaitsev, a Siberian hunter from the Urals using a standard-­issue Mosin-­Nagant r­ ifle
­ENEMY AT THE GATE 105

with a 4× scope, was credited with 225 verified kills (11 of them ­enemy snipers),
many at distances over 1,000 meters. For his prowess as a marksman Zaitsev was
named a Hero of the Soviet Union and awarded four ­Orders of Lenin. Legendary
in his own country, Zaitsev’s name filtered to the West thanks to two books: Wil-
liam Craig’s nonfiction book, ­Enemy at the Gates: The ­Battle for Sta­lin­grad (Reader’s
Digest Press, 1973) and David L. Robbins’ historical novel, War of the Rats (Ban-
tam Books, 1999). Rus­sian newspaper accounts during the war and Sgt. Zaitsev’s
own memoir, Zapiski Snaypera [A Sniper’s Notes] (1956), tell of a snipers’ duel at Sta­
lin­grad between Zaitsev and a German officer named Heinz Thorvald (aka Major
Erwin König) that Zaitsev won, a story that has never been e­ ither verified or dis-
proven (­Enemy at the Gates devotes a mere three pages to this incident, whereas
Robbins’ novel is entirely centered on it). Fascinated by the anecdote “of a lonely
man fighting against the devil,” French filmmaker Jean Jacques Annaud (The Name
of the Rose) co-­wrote a screen adaptation with frequent collaborator, Alain Godard,
allegedly based on William Craig’s cursory account. Bud­geted at $86 million, ­Enemy
at the Gates was the most expensive American production to be shot in Eu­rope up
to that time. Paramount Pictures co-­financed the movie with Mandalay Pictures
and CP Medien AG, a German tax shelter fund. Paramount handled domestic dis-
tribution while Mandalay pre-­sold the movie to overseas distributors.

Production
Searching for locations to build Sta­lin­grad sets Annaud, producer John D. Scho-
field, and production designer Wolf Kroeger conducted a search of Eu­rope before
they settled on three sites in eastern Germany: an abandoned factory in the indus-
trial town of Rudersdorf (where scenes with König, the German sharpshooter
played by Ed Harris, w ­ ere filmed); a deserted military barracks in the village of
Krampnitz (where Sta­lin­grad’s Red Square was re-­created); and a new lake cre-
ated from a former opencast lignite mine near the village of Pritzen, south of Bran-
denburg (where Volga River scenes w ­ ere shot). The building of the Red Square set
took five months (October 1999–­February 2000). The massive set included exte-
rior ruins of the Pravda printing plant, the Gorky Theatre, the Univermag depart-
ment store, and Sta­lin­grad’s most iconic landmark: the Barmaley Fountain, a statue
depicting a circle of six ­children dancing around a crocodile. Principal photogra-
phy took place between mid-­January 2000 and May 2000, with final interior scenes
filmed at Babelsberg Studio, outside Berlin.

Plot Summary
In the fall of 1942 Vassili Zaitsev (Jude Law), a former shepherd from the Ural
Mountains, is fighting on the frontlines during the ­Battle of Sta­lin­grad. During a
suicidal frontal assault on German positions, Zaitsev uses his superior skills as a
marksman to kill five Germans, saving himself and Commissar Danilov (Joseph
Fiennes). Nikita Khrushchev (Bob Hoskins), who comes to Sta­lin­grad to bolster the
city defenses, sees a need for improving the overall morale of the citizens. Danilov, a
se­nior lieutenant, argues that Rus­sians are in need of heroes to pin their hopes on.
To this end, Danilov churns out stories lauding Zaitsev’s accomplishments in the
106 ­ENEMY AT THE GATE

army newspaper, labeling him a national hero. To complicate m ­ atters, Zaitsev and
Danilov both become infatuated with Tania Chernova (Rachel Weisz), a private in
the Sta­lin­grad militia who is moved from the frontlines to a small intelligence unit.
As German forces deal with gunfire from unceasing Soviet snipers, German Major
Erwin König (Ed Harris) is sent to Sta­lin­grad to murder Zaitsev as a propaganda
coup. The major, an expert sniper, entices Zaitsev into a trap and then eliminates
a pair of Zaitsev’s comrades. Zaitsev escapes. When the Red Army high command
discovers König’s mission, they send a former student, Koulikov (Ron Perlman), to
assist him with the murder. However, König kills his former student instead. Sacha
(Gabriel Marshall-­Thomson), a young Soviet boy, passes König false information
about Zaitsev’s whereabouts, which allows Zaitsev a chance to ambush the major.
Zaitsev aims to trick König and injures him, but a thieving German soldier steals
his sniper log. ­After seeing the log, the German command believes Zaitsev to be
dead, but König suspects that his e­ nemy still lives. König’s dog tags are stripped
from him to prevent Rus­sian propaganda from profiting if he is shot. Tania and
Zaitsev fall in love and consummate their romance. When König sees Tania and
Zaitsev at an ambush area, he becomes certain that Sasha is working for both
sides. As a result, he kills Sasha and hangs his body in public to agitate Zaitsev.
Zaitsev asks Tania and Danilov to usher Sasha’s m ­ other (Eva Mattes) away from
the city, but Tania is left wounded. As Zaitsev waits to surprise König, Danilov
reveals himself in order to instigate a shooting match with König. Mistaking
Danilov for Zaitsev, König inspects the body and realized his error too late—he is
in Zaitsev’s sights. He turns to face Zaitsev and doffs his hat in tribute to his oppo-
nent’s skill just before Zaitsev shoots him. Two months ­later, a­ fter the German
forces have surrendered, Zaitsev finds Tania recovering in a field hospital.

Reception
Paramount planned to release ­Enemy at the Gates on 22 December 2000 as a pos­
si­ble awards contender, but the film was pushed back twice (to 23 February and
then to 16 March). Against the wishes of Mandalay, German distributor Constan-
tin arranged to have ­Enemy at the Gates premier at the Berlin Film Festival on 7
February 2001, where it was roundly booed by the audience. It subsequently had
poor box office returns in Germany and was savaged by German film critics, who
regarded it as a Hollywood-­style glorification of war. During its 12-­week North
American run (16 March–21 June 2001; widest release: 1,724 theaters), the movie
earned $51.4 million at the box office while receipts from foreign markets totaled
$45.5 million. Worldwide, ­Enemy at the Gates earned almost $97 million, but against
an $86 million production bud­get, it was deemed a flop. Reviews ­were mixed. Peter
Travers observed that “Annaud’s film boasts harrowing b ­ attle scenes as Rus­sian
relief troops are bombarded while crossing the River Volga and Sta­lin­grad itself is
battered by air and sea while tanks and soldiers overrun its streets. In the shell of
the city, Vassili and König face off in a duel of wits that is meant to mirror the
larger ­battle. Any flaws in execution pale against ­those moments when the film
brings history to vital life” (Travers, 2001). Giving ­Enemy at the Gates three out of
four stars, Roger Ebert decried the romance subplot as “soppy,” but noted that when
E U R O PA E U R O PA [ G ER M A N T I T L E : H I T L E R J U N G E S A L O M O N ] 107

the movie focuses on the duel between Zaitsev and König, it “works with rare con-
centration” (Ebert, 2001).

Reel History Versus Real History


­Enemy at the Gates is a loose blending of broad fact and pure fiction. T ­ here was
most certainly a ­Battle of Sta­lin­grad and a Rus­sian sniper named Vassili Zaitsev.
However, Danilov and Tania Chernova are fictional, as is, of course, the entire
romance subplot. Zaitsev’s duel with the German sniper, Major König, is also
prob­ably apocryphal, likely a morale-­ boosting propaganda concoction that
became a national legend. ­There was never a German sniper school at Zossen,
and ­there is no extant rec­ord of a German sniper named e­ ither Heinz Thorvald
or König—­but, then again, lots of Nazi military ser­v ice rec­ords ­were destroyed
during the war. Rus­sian WWII historian Valeriy Potopov (who hated the film)
also notes Danilov could not have been a commissar throughout the entire movie
­because the Institute of Commissars was abolished in the Red Army as early as 9
October 1942.

E U R O PA E U R O PA [ G E R M A N T I T L E :
HITLERJUNGE SALOMON] (1990)

Synopsis
A French-­Polish co-­production, Europa Europa is a war film directed by Agnieszka
Holland. Starring Marco Hofschneider, the film is based on the 1989 autobiogra-
phy of Solomon Perel, a German Jewish youth who pretended to be a Nazi to escape
the Holocaust.

Background
­After a health scare in 1983 Holocaust survivor Solomon “Solly” Perel began to write
his memoirs: an incredible story of survival he had kept u ­ nder wraps for almost
40 years. In the preface to the English-­language edition of Europa Europa, Perel
admits that “he could no longer suppress the trauma . . . ​To f­ ree myself of it I had
to write it all down—to get it off my chest” (Perel, 1999, p. xii). Polish Jewish film
producer Artur Brauner (Morituri), a native of Łódź, also a Holocaust survivor,
learned of Perel’s book well before its publication, secured the film rights, and asked
director Agnieszka Holland, with whom he had just collaborated on another Holo-
caust film—­Angry Harvest (1985)—to direct the film. Working closely with Solo-
mon Perel, Holland wrote the screen adaptation, with help from Paul Hengge (Angry
Harvest). Brauner’s own production com­pany, Central Cinema Compagnie-­Film
GmbH (CCC), joined forces with Les Films du Losange (France) and two Polish
companies—­Telmar Film International Ltd. and Zespol Filmowy “Perspektywa”—
to finance the proj­ect. Holland wanted to cast German actor René Hofschneider in
the lead role, but it took three years to put financing in place, by which time
Hofschneider was 29 and a bit old for the role, so Holland cast his younger b ­ rother
Marco instead. Rene ended up playing Solomon Perel’s older ­brother Isaak.
108 E U R O PA E U R O PA [ G ER M A N T I T L E : H I T L E R J U N G E S A L O M O N ]

Production
Europa Europa was filmed (in German) in Poland over a four-­month period in the
summer and fall of 1989. Interior scenes ­were shot at FilmPolski’s Studio, Film-
owe Perspektywain, in Warsaw while exteriors ­were filmed in Lódz and environs,
for example, at the Jewish Cemetery; in the Plac Koscielny (Church Square); on
the Przybyszewskiego, one of the main east-­west streets in the city center (the trol-
ley scene through the Lódz Ghetto); at an abandoned factory (the Hitler Youth
combat scene near the end of the film), e­ tc.

Plot Summary
Solomon Perel (Marco Hofschneider) and his ­family live in Nazi Germany. On the
eve of Perel’s bar mitzvah, Kristallnacht (Nov. 9–10, 1938) occurs. As Nazis stone
the ­house, Solomon escapes from a bath and hides naked in a barrel in an adjacent
alley. The next morning a neighbor gives him a new coat with a swastika-­laden arm-
band. Clothed, he returns home, only to find that his ­sister Bertha (Marta Sandro-
wicz) has been killed by the Nazis. Solly’s ­father (Klaus Abramowsky), who was
born in Łódź, Poland, decides to return t­ here, taking his f­ amily with him, that is,
his wife (Michèle Gleizer), Solomon, and two other sons: David (Piotr Kozlowski)
and Isaak (René Hofschneider). In Łódź Perel enjoys a brief affair with Basia
(Nathalie Schmidt), a cinema cashier, but his halcyon interlude ends when the Nazis
invade Poland, starting World War II. Perel’s f­amily decides he and his b ­ rother
should move farther east. Isaak and Solomon flee but are separated, and Solomon is
placed in a Soviet orphanage with other refugees from Poland. He lives ­there for
two years, joins the Komsomol, and undergoes Communist indoctrination. He
develops a romantic interest in Inna (Delphine Forest), an attractive young teacher
who stands up for him when school administrators uncover his bourgeois social
class. When Germany invades the Soviet Union, all of the c­ hildren are evacuated
from the orphanage, but Solomon is left b ­ ehind during an air attack. He dis-
cards his identity papers and tells the Germans who capture him that he is “Josef
Peters,” a Volksdeutscher (ethnic German) from a Baltic German f­amily. When the
Germans capture Yakov Dzhugashvili, Stalin’s son, Solomon helps by translating
Rus­sian. They call him “Jupp” (a baby name) and adopt him as an auxiliary. Fluent
in German and Rus­sian, Solly becomes an interpreter but is still in grave danger; he
must stay modestly covered, lest anyone see his circumcised penis and realize that
he is Jewish. Robert (André Wilms), a homosexual soldier, catches sight of Jupp
while he is bathing, however, the pair become friends when they realize that they
both carry secrets that would lead to death, should the Nazis find out. Not long
­after, Robert is killed in b­ attle. While attempting to reach the Soviet lines, Jupp
goes across a bridge and unwittingly brings a German unit along with him. The
Soviets are forced to surrender, and the Germans praise Jupp for his heroics. Jupp
is then sent to the elite Hitler Youth Acad­emy in Braunschweig to receive a full Nazi
education. While at school, “Peters” is labeled a combat hero. He still strug­gles to
hide his circumcision, and Solomon uses string and rubber bands to simulate a
foreskin: efforts that result in an excruciatingly painful infection. He successfully
dodges a medical exam by feigning a toothache, but then has to have a healthy tooth
E U R O PA E U R O PA [ G ER M A N T I T L E : H I T L E R J U N G E S A L O M O N ] 109

pulled without the aid of medi­cation. Girls from the Bund Deutscher Mädel (BDM,
League of German Girls, the female equivalent of the Hitler Youth) serve meals at
the acad­emy. BDM girl Leni (Julie Delpy) becomes infatuated with Jupp and
strongly hints that she would happily bear Jupp’s child, but a­ fter she makes an
anti-­Semitic remark he slaps her and they break up. Afterwards, while serving at
a factory to support the war effort, Jupp and his fellow students discover that the
Sixth Army has been destroyed at Sta­lin­grad. Solly decides to visit Leni’s ­mother
(Halina Labonarska) and tells her he’s Jewish but she does not betray him. When
she tells him Leni is pregnant, Solomon concludes that the f­ather of the child is
one of his classmates, a friend named Gerd (Ashley Wanninger). Solomon’s cha-
rade as an “Aryan” German begins to crumble when he is summoned to Gestapo
offices and cannot produce a Certificate of Racial Purity. An ensuing investigation
­w ill expose him, but just as he leaves the building, it is destroyed by Allied bombs,
killing Gerd in the bargain. As the Red Army closes in on Berlin, the Hitler Youth
at the school are sent to the front. Perel surrenders and tells his captors he’s a Jew
but they d­ on’t believe that any Jew would have survived. They are about to have
Solomon shot when his ­brother Isaak, who has just left a concentration camp, stops
the shooting and saves his b ­ rother’s life. Solly soon moves to the British Mandate
of Palestine, the ­future state of Israel, and fi­nally lives his Jewish heritage. The films
ends with a shot of the real Solomon Perel, who is now 65 years old, performing a
Jewish folk song (“Hine Ma Tov,” Psalm 133:1).

Reception
Europa Europa had its Eu­ro­pean premiere in Paris on 14 November 1990 and simul-
taneous East and West Coast American openings in New York City and in Seattle
on 28 June 1991. Well received in the United States, the movie garnered good
reviews, received a Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and
grossed $5.6 million at the box office: respectable returns for a subtitled foreign
film on a downbeat topic. American Jewish associations and concentration camp
survivors also praised the film. Europa Europa’s reception in Germany was another
­matter entirely, however. A comic-­absurd picaresque journey through the Holo-
caust that featured an amoral protagonist who survives through deception, collab-
oration, and pure luck, the movie went against postwar Germany’s lofty moral
protocols regarding Jewish victimhood and national guilt. In the words of film
scholar Lawrence Baron, “Europa Europa’s multicultural message, multinational ori-
gins, and discomforting synthesis of comic, sensual, and violent ele­ments hurt its
reception in the newly reunified Germany” (Baron, 2005, pp. 87–88). To add insult
to critical opprobrium and dismal box office returns, the German Export Film
Union deci­ded not to submit Europa Europa for Oscar consideration as Best Foreign
Film. The snub provoked a protest letter signed by Germany’s leading filmmakers,
including Volker Schlöndorff (The Tin Drum), Wolfgang Petersen (Das Boot), and
Michael Verhoeven (The Nasty Girl). More alarmingly, Claude Lanzmann, maker of
the acclaimed Holocaust documentary Shoah (1985), denounced Holland as an
anti-­Semite, even though the Nazi death camps claimed both of her Jewish ­father’s
parents (her m ­ other was Catholic). Holland defended herself, saying, “I re­spect
110 E U R O PA E U R O PA [ G ER M A N T I T L E : H I T L E R J U N G E S A L O M O N ]

him enormously for Shoah, but he’s an incredibly unpleasant man [and] a megalo-
maniac” (Tong, 1990). As for Solomon Perel, he loved the movie and watched it at
least 200 times.

Reel History Versus Real History


For the most part, Agnieszka Holland’s film version of Solomon Perel’s autobiog-
raphy stays close to the self-­reported facts of Perel’s life during the war, but Europa
Europa does indulge in cinematic embellishment. For dramatic effect, the movie
depicts Solomon’s ­sister, Bertha, as being killed by the Nazis during Kristallnacht
in 1938. Actually, she was killed by the Nazis in 1945, during the death march
from Stutthof concentration camp. The perfectly timed bombing of the Rus­sian
orphanage, signaling the German invasion of the Soviet Union, did not happen as
such. Nor did the aerial bombing of the Gestapo offices in Braunschweig occur a
second a­ fter Solomon Perel left them (though the city was bombed in 42 separate
Allied air raids between 1940 and 1945). Holland also had Perel and his Hitler
Youth comrades fighting the Red Army in Berlin. In actuality, he was captured by
American forces on the Western Front. The film’s more serious distortion, though,
is its failure to represent Perel’s internalized anti-­Semitism—­passing as a Nazi
among Nazis went on for too long for him not to have fascist attitudes take hold.
As a result, Perel admits that he has been plagued with a dual consciousness that
is both Jewish and anti-­Jewish. In a 1992 interview, Perel said, “To this day I have
a tangle of two souls in one body. By this I mean to say that the road to Josef, the
Hitler Youth that I was for four years, was very short and easy. But the way back to
the Jew in me . . . ​was much harder” (Diehl, 1992). In her zeal to tell Perel’s story
objectively, Holland suppresses this somber truth.
F
F L A G S O F O U R ­F AT H E R S ( 2 0 0 6 )

Synopsis
An American war film adapted by William Broyles, Jr. and Paul Haggis from the
book of the same title by James Bradley and Ron Powers (2000), Flags of Our ­Fathers
recounts the story of the five Marines and one Navy Corpsman who raised the
American flag on Mount Suribachi during the World War II ­Battle of Iwo Jima.
Directed, co-­produced, and scored by Clint Eastwood, the film examines how the
event changed the lives of the surviving flag raisers.

Background
On 23 February 1945 Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal took a hasty
snapshot of five U.S. Marines and a sailor raising the American flag on the summit
of Iwo Jima’s Mount Suribachi, signaling a key moment in wresting the island from
the Japa­nese (though the flag-­raising photographed by Rosenthal was actually the
second one with a larger flag, not the first, and the B ­ attle of Iwo Jima would rage
on for another 31 days). Published in the New York Times two days ­later and then
picked up by hundreds of U.S. newspapers, the photo­graph won Rosenthal a Pulit-
zer Prize and quickly became, for Americans, the most iconic image of World
War II—­reproduced on 150 million 3¢ postage stamps, 1.2 million war bond drive
posters, and 5,000 billboards in 1945 and ­later immortalized by the Marine Corps
War Memorial in Arlington Ridge Park, ­Virginia: a colossal sculpture by Felix de
Weldon dedicated in 1954 that features bronze figures of the six flag raisers 32
feet tall. Almost 49 years ­after the b
­ attle, James Bradley, son of John “Doc” Bradley
(1923–1994), a medic on Iwo Jima, discovered a letter postmarked 26 Febru-
ary 1945 that his ­father wrote mentioning his own involvement in the flag raising:
a startling revelation that inspired Bradley to co-­author, with Ron Powers, Flags of
Our ­Fathers (Bantam, 2000), a compelling account of the b ­ attle and how the three
surviving flag raisers fared afterwards. The book spent 46 weeks on the New York
Times nonfiction bestseller list, 6 weeks at the number-­one spot. A month ­after its
publication, Steven Spielberg acquired the option on the film rights for DreamWorks
Pictures and hired screenwriter William Broyles, Jr. ( Jarhead) to write a screen
adaptation. Actor-­director Clint Eastwood read the book in 2003, liked it, and
wanted to make a movie version. On 26 February 2004, at the Acad­emy Awards
Governors Ball, Eastwood and Spielberg conversed with each other about Flags of
Our ­Fathers and Spielberg suggested that he produce and Eastwood direct, an
arrangement formalized that July. Thereafter, Eastwood brought in Paul Haggis
112 F L A G S O F O U R ­F AT H E R S

(Million Dollar Baby) to do a rewrite that was completed in late October 2004. Read-
ing about the ­Battle of Iwo Jima from the Japa­nese perspective—­especially that of
the island’s garrison commander, Lt. Gen. Tadamichi Kuribayashi—­Eastwood
deci­ded to film Letters from Iwo Jima, a companion film shot entirely in Japa­nese.

Production
Jared Leto was originally cast as Rene Gagnon but dropped out due to scheduling
issues. With the exception of Barry Pepper, Paul Walker, and Harve Presnell, the
large cast—­nearly 100 speaking parts—­was composed of unknowns. Filming took
place over a 58-­day period in far-­flung locations in the winter of 2005–2006. East-
wood made a scouting trip to Iwo Jima in April 2005 but determined it was too
remote for a large-­scale film production. Instead, the b ­ attle scenes w­ ere shot on
Reykjanes, a volcanic peninsula in Iceland that featured black sand beaches and
craters almost identical in appearance to Iwo Jima. A c­ ouple of scenes ­were shot at
Universal Studios’ backlot, but most of the stateside scenes w ­ ere shot at vari­ous
locations in Pasadena, Los Angeles, Chicago, and at the USMC War Memorial in
Arlington, V­ irginia. A bond drive scene supposedly taking place at Soldier Field
in Chicago was actually filmed at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, using lots of computer-­
generated imagery (CGI) (though exterior shots of the real stadium w ­ ere also
used). Shooting ended early in 2006. The shoot for the movie’s companion piece,
Letters from Iwo Jima, began in March 2006.

Plot Summary
The three surviving US ser­v icemen who ­were the flag raisers at Iwo Jima—­Marine
Pfcs. Ira Hayes (Adam Beach) and Rene Gagnon (Jesse Bradford) and Navy Corps-
man John “Doc” Bradley (Ryan Phillippe)—­are celebrated as heroes in a U.S. war
bond drive. They reflect on their experiences during and a­ fter the war via a series
of flashbacks. ­A fter training at Camp Tarawa in Hawaii (October  1944), the
28th Marine Regiment (5th Marine Division) joins an invading armada headed for
Iwo Jima, a small island off Japan’s mainland. To soften Japa­nese re­sis­tance, the
Navy shells Iwo Jima for three days. Sgt. Mike Strank (Barry Pepper) is put in charge
of Second Platoon. On the fourth day of the ­battle—19 February 1945—­the Marines
land on Iwo Jima in Higgins boats. They meet no immediate re­sis­tance but then,
all at once, Japa­nese heavy artillery and machine guns open fire on the advancing
Marines. The beaches are secured, but casualties are heavy. A­ fter two days of fierce
fighting, the Marines mount an assault on Mount Suribachi. Doc saves the lives of
several Marines ­under fire, earning the Navy Cross in the pro­cess. A­ fter a dogged
fight, the mountain is secured. On 23 February Sgt. Hank Hansen (Paul Walker)
is ordered to scale Mount Suribachi. His squad reaches the summit and hoists the
American flag atop Suribachi. Secretary of the Navy James Forrestal (Michael
Cumpsty) sees the flag as he reaches the beach and asks to keep the flag himself.
However, Col. Chandler Johnson (Robert Patrick) ­counters that his own 2nd Bat-
talion is more deserving of the flag than Forrestal. Rene Gagnon is sent up with
Second Platoon to replace the first (smaller) flag with a second one intended
for Forrestal. Mike, Doc, Ira, Rene, and two other marines—­Cpl. Harlon Block
F L A G S O F O U R ­F AT H E R S 113

(Benjamin Walker) and Pfc. Franklin Sousley (Joseph Cross) are photographed by
Joe Rosenthal as they send up the second flag. On 1 March Mike is hit by “friendly
fire” and dies from his wounds. ­Later that day Hank and Harlon are also killed in
action. Two nights ­later (4 March), while Doc tends to an injured soldier, Ralph
“Iggy” Ignatowski (Jamie Bell) is kidnapped by the Japa­nese and pulled through an
underground tunnel. Doc finds his mutilated body a few days ­later. On 21 March a
mortally wounded Franklin Sousley dies in Ira Hayes’ arms. Three squad members
remain: Doc Bradley, Ira Hayes, and Rene Gagnon. A few days a­ fter Sousley’s death,
Doc is injured and returns home. On 26 March the ­Battle of Iwo Jima ends in Amer-
ican victory (but at a grave price: 6,700 dead and 19,000 wounded). Joe Rosenthal’s
photo­g raph appears in newspapers throughout the country. Rene Gagnon is
asked to name the six men in the photo: he identifies himself, Mike Strank, Doc
Bradley, and Franklin Sousley, but misidentifies Harlon Block as Hank Han-
sen. Gagnon identifies Ira Hayes as the final man in the photo­g raph, but Hayes
says that it i­sn’t him, but Harlon Block in the photo. Gagnon asks Hayes to re-­
evaluate, mentioning that, as flag raisers, this denial w ­ ill send them both home,
but Gagnon refuses to give in and threatens Gagnon’s life if he dares to name Hayes
in the photo­graph. Gagnon does eventually name Ira Hayes as the sixth man in
the photo­graph. Bradley, Hayes, and Gagnon are then sent stateside to raise money
for the war effort. Hayes calls the bond drive a joke, but Bud Gerber (John Slat-
tery) of the Trea­sury Department disciplines them and admits that the U.S. gov-
ernment is nearly bankrupt; if the bond drive fails, the United States ­will be forced
to abandon the Pacific and all their sacrifices ­will be in vain. The three agree not to
tell anyone that Hank Hansen was not in the photo­graph. As the trio is sent around
the country on their fundraising tour, Ira Hayes suffers from survivor’s guilt and the
lingering effects of b ­ attle fatigue and also f­aces blatant bigotry as a Pima Indian.
In the throes of alcoholism, Hayes vomits one night in front of Gen. Vandegrift
(Chris Bauer), commandant of the Marine Corps; Vandegrift ­orders him sent back
to his unit. A­ fter the war, the three survivors return home. Ira Hayes hitchhikes to
Texas to see Harlon Block’s ­family and tell Harlon’s ­father that his son was indeed
in the famous photo­graph. At the dedication of the USMC War Memorial in 1954
the three surviving flag raisers see each other one last time. The next year Ira
Hayes dies of exposure ­after a night of heavy drinking. That same year Doc Brad-
ley visits Iggy Ignatowski’s m ­ other to tell her how her son died. Rene Gagnon
attempts to begin a professional life in the business sector, but finds that the offers
he received during the bond drive have been rescinded and spends the rest of his
life as a janitor. Doc, however, finds success as the owner and director of a funeral
home. In 1994, close to death, Doc relays his vivid tale to his son, James.

Reception
Released 20 October 2006, Flags of Our ­Fathers ran for eight weeks (widest release:
1,876 theaters) and earned $33.6 million in gross domestic box office receipts. Exhi-
bition in foreign markets (November 2006–­March 2007) earned another $32.3 mil-
lion, for a ­grand total of $65.9 million: disappointing results but prob­ably inevitable
­because (a) the film lacked star power and (b) it presented a dishearteningly
114 F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y

revisionist depiction of “The Good War,” showing the U.S. government cynically
exploiting military heroism for propaganda and fundraising purposes. ­A fter
theaters took their percentage of the gross and P&A (promotion and advertis-
ing) expenses ­were deducted, both co-­producing studios—­Paramount and
DreamWorks—­ended up in the red. Originally bud­geted at $80 million, Flags
would have lost far more money had Clint Eastwood not completed the film well
ahead of schedule and ­under bud­get, bringing it in for only $55 million. Though it
flopped at the box office, Flags enjoyed strong sales on the U.S. home video market,
grossing $45 million. Reviews ­were mostly affirmative, some adulatory. Roger Ebert
gave the film four out of four stars and praised Eastwood’s two-­film proj­ect as “one
of the most visionary of all efforts to depict the real­ity and meaning of ­battle. The
­battle scenes, alternating between close-up combat and awesome aerial shots of the
bombardment and landing, are lean, violent, horrifying. His cinematographer, Tom
Stern, wisely bleeds his palette of bright colors and creates a dry, hot, desolate feel-
ing; t­here should be nothing scenic about the film’s look” (Ebert, 2007). Philip
French found Flags of Our ­Fathers to be “touched by greatness. It argues that soldiers
may go into ­battle for country and glory but they always end up fighting for the
survival of themselves and their comrades” (French, 2006).

Reel History Versus Real History


Historians concur that Bradley and Powers’ book is a well-­researched and accu-
rate rendition of the B­ attle of Iwo Jima; the 7th War Loan Drive (aka “Iwo Jima
Tour,” May–­July 1945); and the postwar lives of Ira Hayes, Rene Gagnon, and Doc
Bradley. Likewise, Eastwood’s film version is a faithful adaptation of its source mate-
rial. Interviewed by Robert Siegel on National Public Radio on 19 October 2006
regarding the film’s historical accuracy, Charles D. “Chuck” Melson, Chief Historian
of the U.S. Marine Corps, found the film to be quite true to life, describing the war
bond drive, the ships coming to Iwo Jima, the beachside invasion and resulting
chaos, and the flag raising. Asked by Siegel if the movie was accurate or exaggerat-
ing when it dramatized Rosenthal’s photo­graph as “the very fulcrum on which
public support for the war effort in 1945 rested,” Melson answered, “I think it
would take a social historian to r­ eally pin that one down” (Siegel, 2006). Melson’s
judicious answer notwithstanding, the movie does exaggerate the importance of
the Rosenthal photo­g raph in winning the war in the Pacific. The United States
would have prosecuted the war to its conclusion, what­ever the success or failure
of the 7th War Loan Drive. Fortunately, the Drive far exceeded expectations by
raising over $26 billion ($353 billion in 2017 dollars)—an astonishing sum of
money.

F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y ( 1 9 5 3 )

Synopsis
From H
­ ere to Eternity is a military drama directed by Fred Zinnemann and based
on the 1951 novel of the same title by James Jones. The film dramatizes the lives
F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y 115

of three U.S. Army soldiers (played by Burt Lancaster, Montgomery Clift, and Frank
Sinatra) who are stationed in Honolulu, Hawaii, in the months leading up to the
Japa­nese attack on Pearl Harbor.

Background
Published in 1951, James Jones’ 861 page debut novel, From ­Here to Eternity pre-
sented a shockingly caustic depiction of army life at Schofield Barracks in Hono-
lulu, Hawaii, just before the Japa­nese attack on Pearl Harbor. A revisionist take on
the U.S. military in the midst of the Korean War, Jones’ book stirred controversy
but it also generated sales of nearly a quarter million copies and went on to win
the third annual National Book Award in 1952. A ­couple of weeks ­after the book’s
publication Columbia Pictures mogul Harry Cohn purchased the film rights for
$85,000, but due to its sheer length, narrative complexity, and scandalous con-
tent, the majority opinion was that From ­Here to Eternity was unfilmable; the proj­
ect was quickly dubbed “Cohn’s folly.” Indeed, Cohn and his production team had
to overcome daunting challenges, not least of which was producing a v­ iable script
that would get past Production Code restrictions and also win the crucial coop-
eration of the Department of Defense (DOD). Cohn hired James Jones to write a
screen adaptation of his own novel, but Jones could not come up with a workable
script, so Cohn hired screenwriter Daniel Taradash (Knock on Any Door) in his stead.
Initially, the Pentagon was adamant about refusing to cooperate with Columbia,
given the fact that Jones’ novel was bitterly anti-­authoritarian and anti-­military.
Eventually producer E. Maurice “Buddy” Adler, a lieutenant col­o­nel in the U.S.
Army Signal Corps during World War II, was able to win grudging DOD approval
by agreeing to two key script changes: (a) Fatso Judson’s sadistic treatment of Angelo
Maggio in the stockade could not be depicted on screen; and (b) Judson’s cruelty
had to be characterized as the aberrant be­hav­ior of a sick individual, not routine
Army policy at that time, as depicted in Jones’ novel. Director Fred Zinnemann
(High Noon) and Taradash took the first concession in stride, coming to the con-
clusion that Maggio’s death in Prewitt’s arms would be a more effective way to con-
vey his suffering at Fatso’s hands. They ­were less sanguine about the second
change, however. In the novel, Capt. Holmes is promoted to major, a plot point
the filmmakers found to be suitably ironic, but the Pentagon also insisted that a
scene be added showing Holmes confronted by his superiors and given the choice
of resigning from ser­v ice or facing a court-­martial—an unctuous departure from
the novel that Zinnemann ­later characterized as “the worst moment in the film”
(Zinnemann, 1992). Casting also proved to be an arduous pro­cess, fraught with
initial missteps. Harry Cohn wanted Humphrey Bogart to play Sgt. Warden. Bog-
art was still a major star in 1951 but as a craggy-­faced 52-­year-­old, he w ­ asn’t
anyone’s idea of a sexy leading man. Cohn wanted to hire Joan Crawford to play
Karen Holmes but rescinded the deal a­ fter Crawford carped about second billing
and insisted on being filmed by her own cameraman. The Warden role soon went
to Burt Lancaster and the Karen role went to Deborah Kerr, a 30-­year-­old Scottish
actress. Cohn’s first choice for Prewitt was Aldo Ray, but Zinnemann wanted Mont-
gomery Clift as Prewitt. He threatened to resign if Ray was hired, so Clift got the
116 F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y

role. Both Cohn and Zinnemann wanted Eli Wallach to play Angelo Maggio, but
Wallach had to turn down the role due to a scheduling conflict. According to a
myth pop­u­lar­ized by Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (1972), Frank Sinatra
was given the Maggio part only ­after his Mafia associates strong-­armed the film’s
director. Though he certainly had lifelong Mafia connections, Frank Sinatra won
the Maggio part in a more prosaic fashion: he lobbied hard for it in order to extri-
cate himself from a ­career slump. ­After agreeing to a pay cut (to a $1,000 a week),
Sinatra eventually overcame Cohn’s skepticism about his acting abilities and got
the coveted role.

Production
Some filming took place on sets constructed on Columbia’s backlot (e.g., the New
Congress Club), but most of From ­Here to Eternity was shot on location in Hono-
lulu, Hawaii, in 41 work days between 7 March and 5 May 1953. Settings include
vari­ous buildings within Schofield Barracks at Fort Shafter; the Royal Hawaiian
­Hotel; Kuhio Beach Park, Waikiki Beach; Waialae Golf Course; and Hālona Beach
Cove on the southeastern tip of the island (where the famous scene featuring War-
den and Karen kissing in the surf was filmed).

Plot Summary
In 1941, Pvt. Robert E. Lee “Prew” Prewitt (Montgomery Clift), a ­career soldier and
bugler, transfers to Com­pany G at Schofield Barracks on the island of Oahu, Hawaii.
Having heard that Prewitt is a gifted middleweight boxer, Capt. Dana “Dynamite”
Holmes (Philip Ober) tries to convince him to be a part of his team, but Prewitt
­won’t join the regiment. Prewitt has given up boxing, in part due to his overwhelm-
ing guilt for having injured his sparring partner. In an effort to change Prewitt’s
mind, Holmes makes life difficult for the boxer by ordering court-­martial papers.
However, First Sergeant Milton Warden (Burt Lancaster) suggests using punish-
ment to influence Prewitt. As the other noncommissioned officers (NCOs) follow
Holmes’ lead, Prewitt finds his only support in Private Angelo Maggio (Frank Sina-
tra). To make m ­ atters worse, Warden begins a sordid affair with Holmes’ wife
Karen (Deborah Kerr). As their relationship deepens, Warden asks Karen about
her previous affairs, which have been communicated to him by another officer, to
see if she ­w ill be honest with him. Karen admits to multiple infidelities and tells
Warden about her miscarriage. She also reveals that Holmes has also had multiple
trysts during the course of their marriage. Due to Holmes’ negligence during her
medical emergency, Karen is unable to bear any more ­children. Karen entices War-
den with an offer of a f­ uture marriage: if Warden attains the title of an officer, then
she can divorce Holmes. As he considers this proposal, Warden allows Prewitt the
weekend off. Prewitt visits Lorene (Donna Reed), an escort attempting to move up
the social ladder, whom he has come to care for. A ­ fter a fight breaks out that initi-
ates an internal investigation, Holmes’ scheme against Prewitt is discovered and
the base commander ­orders a court-­martial. Holmes resigns as a result. Maggio,
who has been placed in a stockade, escapes only to die moments l­ ater next to Pre-
witt while telling his friend of how Judson abused him. Prewitt reacts by angrily
F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y 117

tracking down Judson and killing him with a switchblade. He is wounded during
his attack and seeks shelter at Lorene’s ­house. The Pearl Harbor attack of 7 Decem-
ber 1941 emboldens Prewitt to return to his com­pany, but he is mistakenly killed
by a soldier guarding the fort. Meanwhile, Karen leaves Warden ­after discovering
that he is not applying to become an officer, boarding a boat with her husband
back to the mainland. Lorene and Karen meet on the ship, where Lorene tells Karen
about her fiancé. Though Karen recognizes Prewitt’s name, she keeps the infor-
mation to herself.

Reception
Released on 5 August 1953—­just nine days a­ fter the end of the Korean War—­
From H ­ ere to Eternity proved to be a runaway box office smash. Made for only
$2 million, the movie grossed $30.5 million, making it the third top-­grossing film
of 1953. Adjusted for inflation, its box office gross would exceed $277 million in
2017 dollars. Likewise, the movie was showered with awards. Nominated for 12
Oscars, it won 8 statuettes for Best Picture (Buddy Adler); Best Director (Fred
Zinnemann); Best Writing, Screenplay (Daniel Taradash); Best Supporting Actor
(Frank Sinatra); Best Supporting Actress (Donna Reed); Best Cinematography
(Black-­and-­White) (Burnett Guffey); Best Film Editing (William A. Lyon); and
Best Sound (Recording) (John P. Livadary). Reviews ­were mostly glowing. Film
critic Abe H. Weiler expressed the majority opinion when he noted that the film
version of From H ­ ere to Eternity “naturally lacks the depth and fullness” of the book
[but] “this dramatization of phases of the military life in a peacetime army . . . ​
­c aptures the essential spirit of the James Jones study. And, as a job of editing,
emending, re-­arranging and purifying a volume bristling with brutality and obscen-
ities, From H­ ere to Eternity stands as a shining example of truly professional mov-
iemaking” (Weiler, 1953). Conversely, Manny Farber detected a studied show
business slickness that worked against real verisimilitude: “From H ­ ere to Eternity
happens to be fourteen-­carat entertainment. The main trou­ble is that it is too
entertaining for a film in which love affairs flounder, one sweet guy is beaten to
death, and a man of high princi­ples is mistaken for a saboteur and killed . . . ​
When the soldiers get drunk, the scene is treated in a funny, unbelievable way.
When Clift blows his bugle, it is done with a hammy intensity that tries to mimic
Louie Armstrong at his showiest. When Lancaster and Kerr are being passionate,
on the beach, it is done in patterned action that reeks with a phony Hollywood
glamour. The result is a gripping movie that often makes you wish its director,
Zinnemann, knew as much about American life as he does about the art of telling
a story with a camera” (The Nation, 29 August 1953).

Reel History Versus Real History


Author James Jones clearly based “Prew” Prewitt, the troubled nonconformist, on
himself and distilled his own life in the Army from 1939 to 1944 into the months
at Schofield Barracks leading up to Pearl Harbor that is the book’s setting. In effect,
From ­Here to Eternity was censored twice before it reached the screen—­once by
Jones himself and a second time by the filmmakers. The original version of the
118 F R O M ­H E R E T O E T E R N I T Y

U.S. Army Sgt. Milton Warden (Burt Lancaster) and Karen Holmes (Deborah Kerr), his
commanding officer’s wife, kiss in the surf near Honolulu in a famous moment from
Fred Zinnemann’s From H­ ere to Eternity (1953). (Columbia Pictures/Photofest)

novel featured graphic depictions of homosexual activity between ser­v icemen and
civilians in Honolulu. Jones was forced to excise most of t­ hese passages to get his
book published. As Jones’ ­daughter, Kaylie, points out, in the original manuscript
the number of soldiers “hanging out in the gay bars is . . . ​staggering; in fact, t­ here
are so many of them that the Army launches a (very quiet) investigation. One sol-
dier, Bloom, realizes he enjoys sex with men, and is so terrified and ashamed of
being gay and of being called on it, that he commits suicide. The sin and the shame,
it seems, are not associated with the act itself or even in getting paid for it, but in
­whether or not a soldier enjoys it. My f­ather saw the total hy­poc­r isy and ridicu-
lousness of this and Bloom’s death is portrayed as a tragedy, absurd and unneces-
sary” (Jones, 2009). Already pre-­censored, From ­Here to Eternity underwent another
round of censorship before it reached movie screens. Its vio­lence whitewashed for
the cinema per DOD wishes, the novel’s language and sexual content also under-
went cleansing so the movie would not run afoul of Motion Picture Production
Code restrictions. In the novel, the New Congress ­Hotel is clearly a brothel and
Lorene is definitely a prostitute—­seedy realities the film obscures by transform-
­ otel into the New Congress Club, suggestive of a more ­wholesome USO-­
ing the h
type fa­cil­i­ty, and turning Lorene into a kind of hospitality hostess. Any filmic
reference to the homo­sexuality that was rife in Honolulu in 1941 was, of course,
F U L L M E TA L J A C K E T 119

still out of the question in 1953, as per the Hays Code: “Sex perversion or any ref-
erence to it is forbidden.”

F U L L M E TA L J A C K E T ( 1 9 8 7 )

Synopsis
Full Metal Jacket is a British-­American war film produced and directed by Stanley
Kubrick. The film’s screenplay was adapted by Kubrick, Michael Herr, and Gustav
Hasford from Hasford’s novel, The Short-­Timers (1979). It follows a platoon of U.S.
Marines through boot camp at Parris Island and then into combat in the Vietnam
War during the Tet Offensive in 1968.

Background
Alabama native Gustav “Gus” Hasford (1947–1993) joined the U.S. Marine Corps
in 1966 and served a 10-­month tour of duty (November 1967 to August 1968) in
Vietnam as a combat correspondent, where he covered the B ­ attle of Huế, which
took place in March 1968, during the Tet Offensive. In the de­cade that followed,
Hasford wrote some two dozen drafts of a Vietnam War novel that was eventually
published as The Short-­Timers (Harper & Row, 1979; Bantam pbk. edition, 1980).
Though critically acclaimed, the book sold modestly and was soon remaindered.
Following The Shining (1980), director Stanley Kubrick pondered a Holocaust pic-
ture but fi­nally deci­ded to make another war film (his third, a­ fter Fear and Desire,
1953, and Paths of Glory, 1957) and sought out a creative collaboration with Michael
Herr (Vietnam War correspondent, author of Dispatches, 1979, technical advisor
for Coppola’s Apocalypse Now). In 1982 Kubrick discovered Hasford’s novel through
a notice in Kirkus Reviews, read it, and deci­ded that it presented the kind of
­bitterly sardonic perspective on war that he was seeking. Kubrick bought the film
rights from Hasford through an intermediary and proceeded to collaborate on a
screen adaptation with Michael Herr. As he had done with Herr, Kubrick carried
on a series of long-­distance telephone conversations with Hasford before all three
men fi­nally met at Kubrick’s Hertfordshire estate on 17 January 1985. Repelled by
Hasford’s intimidatingly brash demeanor, Kubrick barred him from the set and
never met with him again, though the trio continued to collaborate on rewrites of
the script by phone and mail. Kubrick also refused to give Hasford full credit as a
co-­screenwriter, igniting a ­bitter dispute that Hasford eventually won by threaten-
ing to publicly embarrass Kubrick for cheating a Vietnam veteran.

Production
Stanley Kubrick initially hoped to cast Anthony Michael Hall (The Breakfast Club)
as Pvt. Joker but negotiations stretching over eight months ended in failure. Mat-
thew Modine, who had already starred in two Vietnam War–­themed movies—­
Robert Altman’s Streamers (1983) and Alan Parker’s Birdy (1984)—­was cast in the
lead role. The drill instructor role went to the film’s technical advisor, R. Lee Ermey,
a Vietnam vet and Parris Island drill instructor who had acted in other Vietnam
120 F U L L M E TA L J A C K E T

War films (Sidney Furie’s The Boys in Com­pany C, 1978, and Coppola’s Apocalypse
Now, 1979). In Hasford’s novel Private Pyle is described as “a skinny redneck” but
Kubrick opted to portray him as obese. Accordingly, Vincent D’Onofrio gained 70
pounds to play him. ­Because Kubrick lived in Britain and was unwilling to travel,
settings t­here masqueraded for locations in the United States and South Viet-
nam. The Parris Island training scenes and the air base at Da Nang w ­ ere shot at
Bassingbourn Barracks in Cambridgeshire, ­England, while the Parris Island bar-
racks set was built inside an old asbestos factory in a London suburb. Kubrick
re-­created the war-­torn city of Huế at the Beckton Gas Works, a square-­mile
complex on the River Thames near London, closed since 1969. Working from
still photo­g raphs of Huế, Kubrick’s production designer, Anton Furst, had
buildings blown up and used a wrecking ball to knock simulated shell holes in
other buildings. Signs and wall advertisements in Viet­n am­ese and other embel-
lishments (including 200 imported Spanish palm trees and 100,000 plastic
tropical plants from Hong Kong) ­were added for effect. Matthew Modine called
the Beckton Gas Works “an environmental disaster area” that sickened the cast
and crew (Modine, 2005).

Plot Synopsis
During the Vietnam War a group of new recruits arrives at Marine Corps Recruit
Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina, for 13 weeks of basic training. A ­ fter having
their heads shaved, they are assembled in barracks and harangued by Se­nior Drill
Instructor Gunnery Sgt. Hartman (Lee Ermey), who insults and belittles them in
order to break down their individuality and rebuild them as Marines. Among the
men in the platoon are Pvts. “Snowball” Brown (Peter Edmund), James T. “Joker”
Davis (Matthew Modine), “Cowboy” (Arliss Howard), and Leonard “Gomer Pyle”
Lawrence (Vincent D’Onofrio), an obese, dimwitted recruit who is paired with Joker
­after proving himself hopelessly inept in ­every endeavor. Pvt. Lawrence makes
improvements as the Joker works with him, but when Hartman finds an “illegal”
doughnut in Lawrence’s footlocker, ­things go downhill: Hartman states that the
75-­man platoon ­w ill be punished for ­every ­mistake Lawrence makes while he is
spared. One night the platoon exacts vengeance on Lawrence with a “blanket party”;
they hold him down in his bed and beat him with towel-­w rapped bars of soap.
­After this incident, Lawrence seems to become a model Marine (and a surprisingly
good marksman). Hartman is impressed, but Joker recognizes signs of incipient
psychosis when Lawrence begins to talk to his M-14 ­r ifle. Following graduation,
Joker is assigned to a Military Journalism unit while most of the remaining platoon
members are assigned to Infantry. Having drawn Fire Watch (barracks sentry duty)
on the final night at Parris Island, Joker discovers Lawrence in the latrine, looking
deranged and loading his M-14 with live ammunition. Joker attempts to persuade
Lawrence to return to his bunk but Lawrence starts to drill while loudly reciting
the Rifleman’s Creed, awakening Hartman and the rest of the platoon. Hartman
confronts Lawrence and tells him to drop his weapon, whereupon Lawrence kills
Hartman and then himself. The scene then switches to Da Nang, South Vietnam,
F U L L M E TA L J A C K E T 121

in January 1968. Joker, now a corporal, is a journalist for Stars and Stripes who
works alongside photographer Pfc. “Rafterman” (Kevyn Major Howard). Both men
are afforded the opportunity to enter the battlefield when Viet Cong and North
Viet­nam­ese Army (NVA) forces launch the Tet Offensive with simultaneous attacks
throughout South Vietnam. Accompanied by Rafterman, Joker is sent to Phú Bài
where they meet the Lusthog Squad and Joker is re­united with Cowboy, who is
now a sergeant. Joker joins Cowboy’s squad as they enter the city of Huế, losing
their platoon commander, Lt. Walter J. “Touchdown” Schinoski (Ed O’Ross), to
­enemy fire in the pro­cess. Once the Marines secure the area, American TV news
journalists enter Huế and interview Marines on camera about their experiences in
Vietnam and their attitudes ­toward the war. Cowboy takes command ­after squad
leader “Crazy Earl” (Kieron Jecchinis) perishes. When the squad becomes disori-
ented Cowboy o­ rders “Eightball” (Dorian Harewood) to scout the area. A well-­
hidden Viet Cong sniper opens fire, wounding Eightball while he is in an open
area between buildings. The squad medic, “Doc Jay” (John Stafford), is also wounded
while attempting to rescue Eightball. Cowboy tries to call in tank support but is
informed that no tanks are available. When Cowboy o­ rders a withdrawal, Animal
­Mother (Adam Baldwin), the squad’s M-60 machine gunner, disobeys Cowboy and
attempts to save his comrades, but Doc Jay and Eightball ­don’t make it out alive. A
sniper kills Cowboy, and Animal ­Mother takes over the squad and coordinates their
attack. Entering a building, Joker discovers that the sniper is a teenage girl (Ngoc
Le) with an AK-47. When he tries to shoot her, his ­r ifle jams so Rafterman shoots
her instead. As the squad converges on her, the mortally wounded sniper begs to
be put out of her misery. The men argue the merits of killing her versus letting her
suffer. Animal ­Mother decides to permit a mercy killing—­but only if Joker does
the killing. A­ fter some hesitancy, Joker shoots the stricken girl, and his fellow
Marines congratulate him on his kill. In the final scene, the platoon moves through
the city at night. Silhouetted against raging fires, the Marines sing the “Mickey
Mouse March.” In voice-­over Joker states “I’m in a world of s— . . . ​yes. But I am
alive. And I am not afraid.”

Reception
In theaters from 26 June to 23 August 1987 (widest release 1,075 theaters), Full
Metal Jacket earned $46.3 million at the box office, versus a production bud­get of
$30 million: a moderate success at best. Though critical notices w ­ ere largely posi-
tive, many reviewers noted the stark bifurcation between the film’s gripping first
half at Parris Island and its less focused and engaging second half in Vietnam. Roger
Ebert prob­ably came close to expressing the critical consensus when he wrote,
“Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket is more like a book of short stories than a novel.
Many of the passages seem self-­contained, some of them are masterful and ­others
look like they came out of the bottom drawer. This is a strangely shapeless film
from the man whose work usually imposes a ferociously consistent vision on his
material” (Ebert, 1987). Vincent Canby found more to admire: “Full Metal Jacket,
Mr. Kubrick’s harrowing, beautiful and characteristically eccentric new film about
122 F U R Y

Vietnam, is ­going to puzzle, anger and (I hope) fascinate audiences as much as any
film he has made to date. The movie . . . ​­w ill inevitably be compared with Oliver
Stone’s Platoon, but its narrative is far less neat and cohesive—­and far more
antagonistic—­than Mr. Stone’s film” (Canby, 1987).

Reel History Versus Real History


Marine Corps veterans attest that the boot camp portion of Full Metal Jacket is
remarkably accurate—­w ith certain qualifications. Half of Lee Ermey’s hilariously
caustic lines are derived, almost verbatim, from Hasford’s novel. The rest he impro-
vised himself; as a former Marine drill instructor, Ermey knew from whence he
spoke. Though drill instructors are forbidden from hitting recruits, such incidents
­were not uncommon in the pre–­all-­volunteer era. Veterans have observed, how-
ever, that se­nior drill instructors tended to be less abusive than Ermey’s Gunnery
Sgt. Hartman; that role was reserved for ju­nior drill instructors. Pvt. Pyle’s stress-­
induced breakdown is a common boot camp occurrence, but no recruit has ever
yet murdered his drill instructor. The Vietnam portion of the film recounting the
Tet Offensive—­including the Viet Cong night assault on Da Nang Air Base (29 Jan-
uary 1968) and the subsequent B ­ attle of Huế—is quite accurate historically. As
depicted in the film, Stars and Stripes reporters ­were ­under ­orders to put the best
face on the war, writing “­human interest” stories while studiously ignoring Ameri-
can military blunders, setbacks, or crimes against civilians. Likewise the Huế
sequences ring true—­even though they ­were filmed just outside London. As shown
by a mass grave in the movie, the Viet Cong carried out atrocities in Huế. Ameri-
can troops did encounter snipers as they fought ­house to ­house to recapture the
city in what was the only sustained urban combat during the Vietnam War. The
pig-­tailed young sniper is also historically credible; the Viet Cong numbered many
teenaged girls among their ranks.

F U RY ( 2 0 1 4 )

Synopsis
Fury is an American war film written and directed by David Ayer that stars Brad
Pitt, Shia LaBeouf, Logan Lerman, Michael Peña, Jon Bernthal, and Jason Isaacs.
The film depicts the combat experiences of the crew of a U.S. Army Sherman tank
nicknamed “Fury” as it advances into the heart of Nazi Germany during the final
days of World War II.

Background
Fury is the exclusive brainchild of Navy submarine veteran turned action picture
writer-­director-­producer David Ayer, who researched, wrote, directed, and co-­
produced the film. The script that Ayer fashioned involves the trial by fire of a reluc-
tant soldier and an Alamo-­like last stand: plot ele­ments obviously borrowed from
Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan.
FURY 123

Production
Most of the casting occurred in April 2013, starting with the signing of Brad Pitt
to play the lead role of Wardaddy Collier. Prior to the ­actual shoot, David Ayer
required his actors to undergo a four-­month preparation pro­cess that included
extensive reading in the period, crew training in a working Sherman tank, verbal
and physical sparring for crew bonding purposes, and a week-­long boot camp run
by Navy SEALs. Principal photography lasted seven weeks (30 September–­
­­­15 November 2013) and took place in and around the village of Shirburn, Oxford-
shire (southcentral E­ ngland), using five operational tanks, two of which—­the
Sherman tank dubbed “Fury” and a German Tiger I tank—­were borrowed from
the UK’s Bovington Tank Museum in Dorset. The other Sherman tanks ­were
rented from restorers. Already rattled by frequent sounds of gunfire and rumbling
tanks, Shirburn residents w ­ ere angered when Ayer ignored their pleas to suspend
shooting on Remembrance Day (11 November). David Ayer was forced to make a
public apology, as was Sony Corporation. To ease hard feelings, Brad Pitt made
a parting gift of £1 million ($1.6 million) to the town when the shoot wrapped.

Plot Summary
During the Rhine campaign in the spring of 1945 Allied forces are making their
final thrust into the heart of Nazi Germany. In their ranks is Don “Wardaddy” Col-
lier (Brad Pitt), a U.S. Army staff sergeant commanding an M4 Sherman tank
(dubbed “Fury”) with the 66th Armored Regiment, 2nd Armored (“Hell on Wheels”)
Division. Collier’s battle-­seasoned crew consists of gunner Boyd “Bible” Swan (Shia
LaBeouf), loader Grady “Coon-­Ass” Travis (Jon Bernthal), and driver Trini “Gordo”
Garcia (Michael Peña). The tank’s assistant driver/bow gunner, “Red,” has been
killed in b­ attle. His replacement is Norman Ellison (Logan Lerman), a new recruit
trained as a typist, not a tank crewman, and, as such, the butt of fierce derision by
Fury’s veteran crew. Ordered to clean the tank, Ellison vomits ­after finding part of
“Red’s” face. Inexperienced and basically nonviolent, Ellison is reluctant to kill Ger-
mans, especially Hitlerjugend teen­agers. When he hesitates, the platoon leader
Lt. Parker (Xavier Samuel), is killed and Ellison’s tank and fellow crew members are
destroyed. To indoctrinate Ellison to the realities of war, Wardaddy Collier com-
mands him to kill a captive German soldier. Ellison c­ an’t pull the trigger himself, so
Collier holds the gun in Ellison’s hand and makes the gun fire. The horrors con-
tinue as Ellison and Collier take over a German village. As they root through a
­house, the soldiers come upon two German w ­ omen: Irma (Anamaria Marinca) and
her younger cousin, Emma (Alicia von Rittberg). Noticing a mutual attraction
between Ellison and Emma, Collier insists that Ellison make love to the young
­woman or he, Collier, w ­ ill. ­L ater, as the foursome is eating breakfast, the remain-
ing members of Fury’s crew enter the ­house, teasing the ­women and leaving Elli-
son and Collier enraged. Emma is then killed by German gunfire. Ellison begins
to change, now enjoying hunting down and killing German soldiers. A four-­tank
platoon is given o­ rders to hold a crossroads to ensure the safe passage of supply
trains, but en route, the platoon is ambushed by the Germans. All but one of the
124 F U R Y

Sherman tanks are obliterated. Fury and his crew, now down to a single tank, pro-
ceed to the crossroads. Fury hits a landmine, and Ellison spies 300 Waffen-­SS
panzergrenadiers heading ­toward their crew. Both leader and crew decide to remain
in their position and ambush the incoming German troops. The crewmen make it
appear as though Fury has been knocked out and then take shelter in their tank.
When the Germans arrive, the crew opens fire, inflicting heavy losses on the ­enemy.
During the firefight, Grady, Bible, and Gordo are all killed and Collier is badly
injured. Ellison and Collier attempt to retreat back to the tank. Collier is killed
when SS soldiers detonate grenades in the tank, but Ellison escapes through a hatch
in the bottom of the tank. Ellison hides from the German soldiers and then returns
to the tank ­after they leave the area. Norman continues to hide as the surviving
German soldiers advance. The next morning, Norman Ellison crawls back into the
tank and respectfully covers Collier’s body with his coat. Ellison is then found by
American troops and named a hero as he glances back over the destruction caused
by the war.

Reception
Fury had a successful commercial run, grossing $85.8 million in North Amer­i­ca
and $126 million in other countries for a worldwide total of $211.8 million, against
a bud­get of $68 million: a substantial net profit, minus promotional expenses. The
critical response was largely favorable, though seldom enthusiastic. Most critics
found the film well-­m ade but too narrowly focused on relentless depictions of
extreme vio­lence. Film critic Christopher Orr’s critique is fairly representative of
the critical consensus: “Fury offers a stark and unforgiving portrait of the closing
days of the Good War in the Eu­ro­pean theater. Shot in hues of gray and brown, it
pres­ents a universe of steel and smoke and—­most of all—­mud: swimming with
corpses, littered with dead trees, and endlessly crisscrossed by tank tracks. The
per­for­mances are strong, and in technical terms the film is above reproach: This
is almost certainly the most persuasive depiction of tank warfare yet committed to
celluloid . . . ​The prob­lem with the film is that, over its subsequent hour and a half,
it does l­ittle more than repeatedly convey that same experience, albeit at escalat-
ing levels of mayhem” (Orr, 2014).

Reel History Versus Real History


Staff Sergeant Don Collier’s nickname, “Wardaddy” references Staff Sergeant Lafay-
ette  G. “War D­ addy” Pool (1919–1991), a real World War II Sherman tank ace
with the 3rd Armored Division. In an 81-­day period (27 June to 15 September 1944)
Pool destroyed 12 ­enemy tanks and 258 armored vehicles and self-­propelled guns
and killed over 1,000 German soldiers, while taking another 250 as prisoners of
war (POWs). Unlike his fictive counterpart, Pool survived the war (though he lost
a leg from his last combat operation). In an interview with Nicholas Milton for The
Guardian (Milton, 2014), Bill Betts, a British radio operator in Sherman tanks dur-
ing WWII, gave Fury mixed reviews for historical accuracy: “Fury accurately por-
trays how superior the German tanks ­were. A Sherman provided you with protection
against most e­ nemy fire but against a Tiger it could easily become your coffin . . . ​
FURY 125

In open combat we never had a chance. So, like in Fury, we always had to be one
step ahead. It was only b­ ecause we could call up air strikes and had many more
tanks than the Germans that we eventually won . . . ​I thought the film showed
accurately how tough life could be in a tank, but the final scene where the crew
holds out against a battalion of Waffen SS troops was too far-­fetched. The Germans
seemed to be used as cannon fodder. In real­ity they would have been battle-­
hardened and fanatical troops who would have easily taken out an immobile
Sherman tank using Panzerfausts [single-­shot anti-­tank rocket launchers]. They
[Fury’s crew] also seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of ammunition and fuel.
A Sherman tank only does five miles to the gallon so I think they would have run
out long before the final showdown.”
G
GALLIPOLI (1981)

Synopsis
Gallipoli is an Australian war film produced by Patricia Lovell and Robert Stigwood,
directed by Peter Weir, and starring Mel Gibson and Mark Lee, who play two young
men from Western Australia who enlist in the Army during the First World War
and participate in the failed British effort to capture Gallipoli from the Ottoman
Turks.

Background
On 2 October 1976, on a visit to the Dardanelles in northwest Turkey, Australian
film director Peter Weir (The Last Wave) took a two-­hour walk on the beaches of
Gallipoli and deci­ded that he had to make a film about the disastrous WWI British-­
ANZAC campaign against Ottoman Turkey that occurred t­here 61 years earlier.
Weir subsequently wrote an outline and engaged playwright-­screenwriter David
Williamson to turn it into a screenplay. Weir and Williamson used C.E.W. Bean’s
12-­volume Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–1918 (Australian War
Memorial, 1921–43) as one of their primary sources. They also used diary excerpts
and letters from soldiers who fought at Gallipoli, collected in Bill Gammage’s book
The Broken Years: Australian Soldiers in the ­Great War (Australian National UP, 1974;
Gammage also served as the proj­ect’s military advisor). Williamson crafted many
script revisions before he narrowed the focus to two runners who become “mates”
and comrades-­in-­arms. He also deci­ded to focus the combat portion of the film on
a single calamitous engagement during the Gallipoli campaign: the so-­called ­Battle
of the Nek (7 August 1915), when the 8th and 10th Regiments of the Australian
3rd Light Horse Brigade launched a series of failed bayonet attacks on Ottoman
trenches that resulted in appalling losses: 238 dead and 134 wounded out of a
force of 600 (a 62 ­percent casualty rate), while the Ottoman Turks suffered only
8 dead. Peter Weir initially secured an exclusive production deal with the South
Australian Film Corporation (SAFC) but the deal was amended over “creative
differences” and the SAFC ended up providing only partial funding. ­A fter rais-
ing 850,000 AUD between May 1979 and May 1980, Weir’s producer, Patricia
Lovell, approached media mogul Rupert Murdoch and producer Robert Stig-
wood, who had just formed a new film com­pany (Associated R&R Films). They
agreed to provide the rest of the funding on the proviso that the bud­get come in
­under 3 million AUD—­the highest bud­get of an Australian film at that time.
Rupert Murdoch’s f­ather, Keith Murdoch (1885–1952), a WWI journalist who
GALLIPOLI 127

visited Gallipoli in September 1915, was a leading critic of the way the British
conducted the campaign.

Production
On the strength of his starring role in George Miller’s Mad Max (1979), Mel Gibson
was hired to play Frank Dunne, one of the co-­leads. The other leading role, Archy
Hamilton, went to Mark Lee, a 22-­year-­old unknown actor-­musician from Sydney,
­after an impressive screen test. Gallipoli could not be filmed at Gallipoli; pine trees
covered what had been open ground in 1915 so Weir’s art director, Herbert Pinter,
found topographically perfect locations for ANZAC Cove and the Nek: Farm Beach
(now known as Gallipoli Beach) and Dutton Beach, respectively, both on the west-
ern side of lower Eyre Peninsula in South Australia, about 100 miles due west of
Adelaide. Other locations included Beltana (Archy’s home) and Lake Torrens (for
the desert that Frank and Archy cross), also in South Australia. Scenes showing the
3rd Light Horse training in Egypt ­were shot in and around Cairo. Principal photog-
raphy lasted 12 weeks, from mid-­September to early December 1980, with the final
­battle scenes involving some 600 extras.

Plot Synopsis
The setting is Western Australia, May 1915. Trained by his U ­ ncle Jack (Bill Kerr),
18-­year-­old stockman (rancher) Archy Hamilton (Mark Lee) proves his athletic
prowess by winning a foot race, barefoot, against a ­horse, ridden bareback by a
rival farmhand named Les McCann (Harold Hopkins). Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson),
a destitute ex-­railway worker and also a talented sprinter, sets his eyes on the prize
money offered at a foot race in an athletics competition—­and the side bets he placed
on himself—­but to his chagrin, he is defeated by Archy. Afterwards Frank
approaches Archy in a café, and the pair decides to journey to Perth and enlist in
the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) so that they can join the war in Eu­rope. Once
in Perth, they stay with Frank’s f­ather (John Murphy), an Irish immigrant. Archy
convinces Frank to enlist in the Light Horse Brigade, despite the fact that Frank is
unable to r­ ide a h
­ orse. Frank ends up enlisting in the infantry instead, along with
three co-­workers: Bill (Robert Grubb), Barney (Tim Mc­Ken­zie), and Snowy (David
Argue). Frank and Archy part ways during their journeys to Egypt, but come back
together once in Cairo. Frank transfers to Light Horse as a member of the dis-
mounted infantry in Gallipoli. At Gallipoli, Frank’s friends in the infantry fight in
the ­Battle of Lone Pine (6 August 1915). Afterwards, Billy tells Frank that Barney
was killed in action and that Snowy is in a hospital, badly wounded. The next day,
Archy and Frank join a charge at the Nek in a supporting role to the British soldiers
landing at Suvla Bay. The Light Horse regiments are then asked to take offensive
action across open ground, despite the presence of Turkish gunners at the ground
site. The first wave is scheduled to go over the top at 4:30 a.m., following an artillery
bombardment; however, the Turks slaughter the first wave in a ­matter of seconds.
The second wave attacks and is also annihilated. Major Barton (Bill Hunter) wants
to halt the assault, but his commanding officer, Col. Robinson (John Morris), is
resistant. When the phone line goes dead, Barton dispatches Frank to brigade
128 G A L L I P O L I

headquarters to try and get the attack halted, but Col. Robinson insists that it
continue. Lt. Gray (Peter Ford) admits to his commander, Barton, that he claimed
to have sighted the marker flags, but ­can’t recall where the information originally
came from. Frank suggests ­going over the col­o­nel’s head and appealing to General
Gardner (Graham Dow) about stopping the offensive. Frank sprints to Gardner’s
headquarters, and the general tells him to that he is indeed “reconsidering the
­whole situation.” Frank sprints back to share the news with Barton, but in the
interim, the phone lines have resumed functioning and Col. Robinson demands
that the attack move forward. Barton leads his men over the top, Archy among the
ranks. Arriving mere seconds too late to stop the attack, Frank screams in anguish.
As Archy’s comrades fall by the score, he drops his r­ ifle and runs as fast t­oward the
­enemy positions as he can. The final shot is a freeze frame at the moment of Archy’s
death, as he is hit and hurled backward by a fusillade of bullets to the chest (a
haunting image modeled a­ fter Robert Capa’s famous photo­graph, “The Falling Sol-
dier,” taken in 1936 at the ­Battle of Cerro Muriano during the Spanish Civil War).

Reception
Gallipoli proved to be a box office hit in Australia, grossing 11,740,000 AUD—­four
times its 2.8 million AUD production bud­get. Box office receipts for international
releases ­were more modest. For example, the movie earned only $5.7 million in
the United States where exhibition was limited to art ­house cinemas. Gallipoli was
nominated for the 1981 Australian Film Institute Awards in ten categories and won
in eight of them: Best Film, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor, Best
Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Sound, and Best Editing. Reviews w ­ ere
mostly positive, with many critics citing the film’s deeply affecting lyricism aty­pi­
cal of war films. Janet Maslin’s review nicely articulates the consensus opinion that
“the film approaches the subject of war so obliquely that it c­ an’t properly be termed
a war movie . . . ​Mr. Weir’s work has a delicacy, gentleness, even wispiness that
would seem not well suited to the subject. And yet his film has an uncommon
beauty, warmth, and immediacy, and a touch of the mysterious, too.” Maslin con-
cludes by noting that ­there’s “nothing pointed in Mr. Weir’s decorous approach,
even when the material would seem to call for toughness. But if the lush mood
makes Gallipoli a less weighty war film than it might be, it also makes it a more
airborne adventure” (New York Times, 28 August 1981).

Reel History Versus Real History


As the film’s opening disclaimer declares, “Although based on events which took
place on the Gallipoli Peninsula in 1915, the characters portrayed in this film are
entirely fictitious.” Mel Gibson’s character, Frank, was in­ven­ted from w­ hole cloth,
but the Archy Hamilton character was inspired by Pvt. Wilfred Lukin Harper of
the 10th Light Horse, who died at the B ­ attle of the Nek at the age of 25. He was
described in Bean’s Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–1918 as “last seen
­r unning forward like a schoolboy in a foot-­race, with all the speed he could com-
pass.” Col. Robinson’s character equates to the ­actual brigade major (chief of staff)
of the 3rd Brigade: Col. John Antill (1866–1937), an Australian Boer War veteran
GETTYSBURG 129

and a bit of a martinet. B


­ ecause of Robinson’s clipped, upper-­class Australian accent,
viewers tend to misidentify him as a British officer, even though he is wearing an
AIF uniform. In point of fact, the B ­ attle of the Nek was exclusively an Australian
operation, though it was planned and ordered by British staff officers serving
directly ­under ANZAC commander Gen. William Birdwood: Lt. Col. Andrew Skeen
and Col. W. G. Braithwaite, chief of staff for Gen. Alexander Godley, one of ANZAC’s
divisional commanders. As Les Carlyon (Gallipoli, 2001) and other historians have
noted, the blame for the senseless slaughter at The Nek rests squarely on the shoul-
ders of Col. Antill and his immediate superior, 3rd Australian Light Horse Brigade
commander Brigadier General Frederic Hughes (1858–1944). In the midst of the
second wave, Hughes left his headquarters to observe the attack, cutting himself
off from communication with Antill and the rest of his staff. A ­ fter the third wave
had been decimated, Hughes ordered the attack be discontinued, but not in time
to save half of the fourth wave. In the film General Gardiner, Hughes’ fictional coun-
terpart, suspends the attack a­ fter the second wave. In real­ity the attack fell apart
when half of the fourth wave charged the Turkish lines without o­ rders and w ­ ere
duly cut down. The movie’s Major Barton is modeled on Lt. Col. Noel Brazier, the
surviving regimental commander in the trenches who attempted to get the attack
cancelled. Carlyon and o­ thers have stated that the Australian attack at the Nek was
in actuality a diversion for the New Zealanders’ attack on Sari Bair, not the British
landing at Suvla, as depicted in the film. The British ­were therefore not “drinking
tea on the beach” while Australians died by the score—an anti-­British slur popu­
lar with Australian filmgoers.

GETTYSBURG (1993)

Synopsis
Gettysburg is an American war epic written and directed by Ronald F. Maxwell,
which he adapted from Michael Shaara’s historical novel, The Killer Angels (1974).
The film is about the ­Battle of Gettysburg (July 1863) during the American Civil
War. The film stars Tom Berenger, Jeff Daniels, and Martin Sheen.

Background
In 1966 Michael Shaara (1928–1988), a former paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne
Division turned Florida-­based En­glish professor and writer, visited the Gettysburg
battlefield in 1966 and was inspired to write The Killer Angels, a novel about the
famous ­battle (1–3 July 1863) that turned the tide of the Civil War. Completed in
1973, Shaara’s book was rejected by 15 publishers before being placed with David
McKay, a firm soon acquired by Random House. Published in September 1974 to
good reviews, The Killer Angels won the 1975 Pulitzer Prize for fiction. Filmmaker
Ronald F. Maxwell secured the film rights to Shaara’s novel with a $10,000 down
payment on a $40,000 option in 1978. Maxwell wrote a screen adaptation, but no
one in Hollywood wanted to risk money on a sprawling, all-­male Civil War epic.
Eventually Maxwell’s luck turned. Documentary filmmaker Ken Burns also read
130 G E T T Y S B U R G

The Killer Angels and was inspired to make The Civil War, his mini-­series for PBS that
aired in the fall of 1990 and proved to be a huge hit. Suddenly, for the first time
since Gone with the Wind in 1939, the Civil War was back in vogue. Burns arranged
for Maxwell to meet Ted Turner at a Producers Guild Awards dinner (5 March 1991).
A Civil War buff, Turner greenlit Maxwell’s Gettysburg movie as a TV mini-­series,
bud­geted at $13 million. Casting began in early 1992 and was completed before the
shoot began in July of that year. Robert Duvall was originally cast as Robert E.
Lee but had to drop out due to scheduling conflicts. He was replaced at the last
minute by Martin Sheen.

Production
Gettysburg was shot over a 10-­week period (20 July–30 September 1992), mostly
on set locations at Yingling Farm, three miles west of Gettysburg. Shooting on the
­actual battlefield was limited to just eight days, due to National Park Ser­vice restric-
tions and numerous large granite war monuments that interfered with sightlines.
The shoot involved 100 actors and as many technicians, supplemented by some
5,000 Civil War re-­enactors who came from all over the country at their own
expense, equipped with their own replica firearms, uniforms, gear, and a sophisti-
cated knowledge of the ­battle—an indispensable ele­ment that increased authentic-
ity and saved the production millions of dollars. As the film took shape Ted Turner
liked what he saw, so much so that he deci­ded to release Gettysburg as a feature film
instead of a tele­vi­sion mini-­series, one f­actor among several ­others—­the cost of
70-mm prints, sound remixing, several premieres, even a block party for the towns-
people of Gettysburg—­causing cost overruns in post-­production that increased
expenses by another $7 million, bringing the total price tag to a hefty $20 million
(Galbraith, p.1).

Plot Summary
The film begins in June 1863 with a voice-­over, map, and images describing the
pro­gress of the (Confederate) Army of Northern V ­ irginia, commanded by Robert E.
Lee (Martin Sheen), crossing the Potomac River and marching across Mary­land
and into southern Pennsylvania as it invades the North. On 30 June, Confederate
spy Henry Thomas Harrison (Cooper Huckabee) reports to Lt. Gen. James Long-
street (Tom Berenger), First Corps commander, that the (Union) Army of the
Potomac is moving in their direction, led by Gen. George G. ­Meade (Richard Ander-
son). Lee commands his troops to stop near Gettysburg. Meanwhile, at the Union
encampments near Union Mills, Mary­land, Col. Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain
(Jeff Daniels) of the 20th Maine is taking over the command of over 120 men from
the previously disbanded 2nd Maine. In Gettysburg, Brig. Gen. John Buford (Sam
Elliott) and his cavalry division spot ele­ments of Major Gen. Henry Heth’s (War-
ren Burton) division of Third Corps commanded by Lt. Gen. A. P. Hill (Patrick
Falci) approaching the town. Buford asks I Corps (First Corps) commander Maj.
Gen. John  F. Reynolds (John Rothman) for reinforcements. Heth’s unit meets
Buford’s men the next day (1 July  1863), and Second Corps, commanded by
GETTYSBURG 131

Lt. Gen. Richard S. Ewell (Tim Scott), moves in to flank them. As the unit advances
to b­ attle, Reynolds is shot and killed by a Confederate soldier. The Union army is
forced to retreat to Cemetery Ridge. Longstreet suggests that Lee and his army go
on the defensive, but instead, Lee asks Ewell to secure the Union position “if prac-
ticable.” Ewell expresses some uncertainty, and the armies consolidate their for-
mations. At Confederate headquarters at Seminary Ridge, Maj. Gen. Isaac R. Trimble
(William Morgan Sheppard) criticizes Ewell’s hesitation to Lee’s direct order and
asks to be reassigned. On the second day (2 July), a brigade from the Union V Corps
led by Col. Strong Vincent (Maxwell Caulfield) is sent to L ­ ittle Round Top, and
the 20th Maine and Chamberlain position themselves in wait for the Confederate
forces. Lee meanwhile commands Longstreet to send men to capture ­Little Round
Top and Big Round Top as well. Maj. Gen. John Bell Hood (Patrick Gorman), com-
manding one of the divisions, balks, telling Longstreet he w ­ ill lose half his men if
ordered to attack the well-­defended high ground. Longstreet ignores Hood’s sug-
gestion and moves forward with the attack, and Hood sustains injuries while
fighting at Dev­il’s Den. Meanwhile, at ­L ittle Round Top, Chamberlain and the
20th Maine repel repeated attacks but begin to run out of ammunition. Improvis-
ing, Chamberlain surprises the Confederates and forces them to retreat down the
hill. That eve­ning, Lee’s cavalry commander, Maj. Gen. J.E.B. “Jeb” Stuart (Joseph
Fuqua), arrives on the battlefield. At the same time, Longstreet’s remaining divi-
sion, u­ nder Maj. Gen. George Pickett (Stephen Lang) reaches the field. On the third
day (3 July) of the b­ attle, Lee decides to order three divisions—­led by Pickett, Trim-
ble, and Brig. Gen. J. Johnston Pettigrew (George Lazenby)—to conduct a frontal
assault on the center of the Union line at Cemetery Ridge. Longstreet tells Lee he
thinks that the attack ­will fail; ­there is a mile of open ground to cross ­under massed
artillery fire and the Union’s II Corps’ 10,500 riflemen u ­ nder Maj. Gen. Winfield
Scott Hancock (Brian Mallon) are deployed b ­ ehind a stone wall. Nonetheless Lee
­orders the attack to go forward, preceded by a protracted artillery barrage intended
to silence the Union guns on the ridge. Though the Confederate batteries com-
manded by Col. E. Porter Alexander (James Patrick Stuart) fail to make any appre-
ciable impact on the Union guns, the attack proceeds as planned. The Confederates
who survive the withering artillery fire and reach the Union lines are mowed down
by point-­blank volleys of cannon grapeshot and musket fire. Pickett’s decimated
division is forced to retreat. Meeting with Longstreet that eve­ning, Gen. Lee decides
to withdraw the remnants of his shattered army. The film ends by recounting the
fates of the major figures of the b ­ attle.

Reception
Released on 8 October 1993 in 124 theaters (widest release: 240 theaters), Gettys-
burg grossed $10.7 million—­very respectable box office returns for a small-­scale
release that featured a limited number of daily screenings (a film lasting four hours
and eight minutes plus an intermission could only be screened once or twice a day).
Despite strong sales in the video market ­after its theatrical run, Gettysburg still failed
to earn back anywhere its $20 million production cost. Reviews ­were mixed. Even
132 G E T T Y S B U R G

sympathetic notices expressed serious reservations regarding the film’s sheer length,
shapelessness, portentous musical score, excessive speechifying, and uneven
acting. Film critic Ken Ringle voiced the majority viewpoint when he termed Get-
tysburg “the most ambitious and magnificently flawed cinematic undertaking
since Apocalypse Now.” Ringle praised the film’s seriousness for attempting to
explore “such weighty abstractions as duty, brotherhood, justice and liberty. And
it does so at times to ­great effect.” But Ringle also deplored “Martin Sheen’s woolly-­
headed per­for­mance as Robert E. Lee . . . ​as a kind of crazed religious mystic: a
Confederate Jim Jones invoking his legions to bullets instead of poisoned Kool Aid
for no more clearly discernible reason” (Ringle, 1993). More than a few critics also
noted that the false beards and mustaches worn by most of the principal charac-
ters ­were suspiciously well combed, outsized, and immobile. Indeed, the movie’s
unintentionally comical tonsorial excesses garnered Gettysburg a 1993 Stinkers
Bad Movie Award for Worst Fake Beards. Conversely, most critics singled out Jeff
Daniels for his brilliant and moving per­for­mance as the gallant and resourceful
Col. Chamberlain at ­Little Round Top and rued the fact that Daniels dis­appeared
from the picture’s second half.

Reel History Versus Real History


As regarding the a­ ctual conduct of the ­battle, historians credit Gettysburg with
achieving a high degree of historical accuracy, though some commentators have
criticized the movie for a rather skewed emphasis as to what it chooses to drama-
tize. For example, the ­middle third of the movie focuses almost exclusively on Col.
Joshua Chamberlain and the 20th Maine’s successful defense of ­Little Round Top,
while mostly ignoring heavy fighting at Cemetery and Culps hills on the Union
line’s northern flank that ­were of equal, if not greater, moment. Though it aspires
to be even-­h anded, Gettysburg has also been criticized for its pro-­Confederacy
slant—­though that perspective originates from Shaara’s Killer Angels, which it
closely follows. Nonetheless, the film’s implicit racial politics remain suspect.
Incredibly, among a cast of thousands, only one African American appears in Get-
tysburg in a brief background shot. Furthermore, the movie’s 21,000-­word script
features only five passing mentions of the words “slave” or “slavery”—an unconscio-
nable slighting of the Civil War’s po­liti­cal under­pinnings. Fi­nally, perhaps due to
the fact that it was originally intended as tele­vi­sion fare valorizing martial glory,
Gettysburg is a noticeably sanitized vision of Civil War combat. Through no fault of
their own, the modern actors and reenactors are generally too well dressed and cor-
pulent for the sake of verisimilitude—­Lee’s ragged army was starving—­and on-­
screen bloodshed and environmental destruction are kept at palatable levels. In
real­ity, Napoleonic military tactics (e.g., frontal attacks in close-­order formations),
combined with formidable mid-19th-­century weaponry—­large-­caliber rifled mus-
kets with effective ranges of 200 to 300 yards and highly mobile artillery pieces
(average range: 1,700 yards)—­inflicted grotesque injuries on a g­ rand scale. The film
conveys the kinetics of ­battle without ­really depicting its horrific carnage in a vis-
ceral way.
GLORY 133

G L O RY ( 1 9 8 9 )

Synopsis
Glory is an American war film directed by Edward Zwick and starring Matthew
Broderick, Denzel Washington, Cary Elwes, and Morgan Freeman that recounts
the unsuccessful Union assault on Fort Wagner by an all-­black regiment during
the Civil War. The screenplay was written by Kevin Jarre, based on the letters of
Union Army Col. Robert Gould Shaw, Peter Burchard’s novel, One Gallant Rush
(1965), and Lincoln Kirstein’s Lay This Laurel (1973), a compilation of photos of
the monument to the 54th Mas­sa­chu­setts Volunteer Infantry at Boston Common.

Background
Screenwriter Kevin Jarre (1954–2011), an equestrian and a Civil War buff, knew
about Robert Gould Shaw and the 54th Mas­sa­chu­setts Volunteer Regiment—­the
first black unit to fight in the Civil War—­but his interest in the topic was not fully
ignited u­ ntil he met ballet impresario Lincoln Kirstein in Saratoga, New York, in
June 1985. Kirstein had lived in Boston in the 1920s while attending Harvard and
harbored a lifelong fascination with the story of Shaw and the 54th ­after encoun-
tering Augustus Saint-­Gaudens’ 1897 bronze relief Shaw memorial on the edge of
Boston Common. Inspired by Kirstein’s enthusiasm for the subject, Jarre read every­
thing he could find about Shaw and the 54th, including Shaw’s letters; the journal
of Charlotte Forten (a black abolitionist and close friend of Shaw’s); Peter Burchard’s
novel based on Shaw’s letters, One Gallant Rush: Robert Gould Shaw and His Brave
Black Regiment (St. Martin’s 1965); and Kirstein’s own book on Shaw, Lay This
Laurel (Eakins Press, 1973). In the fall of 1985 Jarre wrote a screen adaptation in
four weeks and initially placed his script with director Bruce Beresford (Breaker
Morant), who brought in producer Freddie Fields. Fields negotiated a production
deal with Columbia Pictures—­but the movie stalled ­after Columbia Chairman
David Puttnam was fired in September 1987. Freddie Fields soon struck a deal
with Tri-­Star Pictures, a Columbia subsidiary, and Edward Zwick replaced Beres-
ford as director.

Production
In order to assure historical accuracy, Zwick hired Civil War historian/novelist
Shelby Foote (1916–2005). Filming of Glory took place between 9 February and
27 April 1989, mostly in Georgia. The brief opening ­Battle of Antietam scenes ­were
staged near McDonough, Georgia, near Atlanta (and 662 miles south of the b ­ attle’s
­actual location, near Sharpsburg, Mary­land), enhanced by a mock-up of the land-
mark Dunker Church and footage taken of the 125th anniversary reenactment of
the ­Battle of Gettysburg in June 1988 that involved some 11,000 participants. Scenes
supposedly taking place in Boston ­were actually filmed in Savannah, Georgia. The
simulated burning of Darien, Georgia, was shot just west of Savannah, about 62
miles north of the a­ ctual town. The skirmish at James Island, South Carolina
(aka ­Battle of Grimball’s Landing, 16 June 1863), was filmed at Rose Dhu Island
134 G L O R Y

(Savannah), 120 miles to the south. The climactic Second ­Battle of Fort Wagner was
shot 60 miles south of Savannah, on Jekyll Island, 197 miles south of its ­actual
location on Morris Island, South Carolina.

Plot Summary
During the American Civil War, Capt. Robert Gould Shaw (Matthew Broderick) is
wounded at the B ­ attle of Antietam (17 September 1862). As a result of his injuries,
he returns to Boston on leave. He spends time with his ­family and is introduced
to Frederick Douglass (Raymond St. Jacques), a former slave turned famed aboli-
tionist. ­After a respite, Shaw is commissioned to command one of the first all-­black
regiments in the Union Army: the 54th Regiment Mas­sa­chu­setts Volunteer Infan-
try (MVI). He agrees to the commission, asking his friend, Cabot Forbes (Cary
Elwes), to serve alongside him. Their first volunteer is a freeman named Thomas
Searles (Andre Braugher). Other recruits sign up, including Sgt. Maj. John Rawlins
(Morgan Freeman), an escaped slave named Silas Trip (Denzel Washington), free-
man Jupiter Sharts (Jihmi Kennedy), and a mute young drummer boy (RonReaco
Lee). Trip clashes with Searles and Rawlins intervenes. In response to the Emanci-
pation Proclamation (22 September  1862) the Confederacy commands that all
black Union soldiers captured during the war be shot and killed along with their
white superiors. Thereafter the black soldiers undergo training at a camp in Read-
ing, Mas­sa­chu­setts, ­under the tutelage of Sergeant-­Major Mulcahy (John Finn), a
tough, no-­nonsense Irishman. ­After Trip supposedly deserts and is captured, Shaw
­orders him flogged as an example to the troops, but Trip’s exposed back reveals
the scars of many previous whippings as a slave, a sight that trou­bles Shaw, who
is, a­ fter all, an ardent abolitionist. Shaw is further chagrined to learn from Rawl-
ins that Trip had left camp to find shoes to replace his worn-­out ones. Shaw fur-
ther discovers that all of his men are being deprived of needed supplies by a racist
quartermaster (Richard Riehle), whom he angrily confronts. Shaw also supports
his men in a dispute over pay (white soldiers are paid $13 a month but black sol-
diers are paid only $10). When Trip urges his comrades to go without pay in pro-
test, Shaw follows suit and earns the re­spect of his men. ­Because black soldiers are
not allowed to rank as officers, Rawlins is promoted to sergeant-­major: the highest
rank for an enlisted man. ­After the 54th is trained, the unit is put ­under the com-
mand of Gen. Charles Garrison Harker (Bob Gunton). En route to joining the war
in South Carolina, Harker’s second-­in-­command, Col. James Montgomery (Cliff
De Young), ­orders the 54th to sack and burn a Georgia town (11 June 1863). Shaw
does not wish to follow the command, but acquiesces when his leadership role is
threatened; the town of Darien, Georgia, is destroyed. Shaw pushes for his men to
be allowed to join their fellow Union soldiers in ­battle; since being activated, they
have been relegated to manual l­ abor. Shaw eventually succeeds, and the unit fares
well in their first bout of active combat on James Island, South Carolina (16
July 1863). Thomas is injured while saving Trip’s life, and consequently earns his
re­spect. Soon thereafter Brig. Gen. George Crockett Strong (Jay O. Sanders) informs
Shaw and his other staff officers of a major campaign to secure Charleston Harbor,
a plan that ­w ill necessitate the capture of nearby Battery Wagner on Morris Island,
GLORY 135

a fort considered impregnable. The only landward approach between salt marsh
and sea is a narrow defile provided by beach; any regiment spearheading the attack
is sure to suffer extreme casualties. Shaw volunteers to the 54th for that grim role.
En route to the battlefield, the 54th is encouraged and cheered on by their fellow
Union soldiers. The 54th forges ahead and suffers major casualties from ­enemy fire.
As night falls, ele­ments of the 54th cross the fort’s water-­filled moat ­under heavy
fire. Col. Shaw is then shot and killed as he leads an assault on the fort’s parapets.
Trip carries the flag himself and encourages his unit to press on. Despite several
bullet wounds, Trip raises the flag, struggling to hold it up ­until his last breath.
Forbes leads the unit and successfully breaches the fort’s defenses, but the men
are quickly outnumbered and overwhelmed. Charlie Morse is killed, and Thomas
is wounded. As the b ­ attle ends Forbes, Rawlins, Thomas, Jupiter, and the two color
sergeants are killed. The next morning, the beach is seen riddled with the bodies
of slain Union troops. The corpses are buried in a mass grave. The closing on-­
screen text reads: “The 54th Mas­sa­chu­setts lost over half its number in the assault
on Ft. Wagner. The supporting white brigades also suffered heavi­ly before with-
drawing. The fort was never taken. As word of their bravery spread, Congress at
last authorized the raising of black troops throughout the u ­ nion. Over 180,000
volunteered. President Lincoln credited ­these men with helping to turn the tide of
the war.”

Reception
Released on 15 December 1989, Glory ran ­until 8 April 1990 (widest release 811
theaters). During its 17-­week run, Glory managed to earn $26.8 million against a
production bud­get of $18 million: a healthy profit. The movie also won numerous
honors, including three Acad­emy Awards: Best Actor in a Supporting Role (Denzel
Washington, who was also awarded a Golden Globe); Best Cinematography (Fred-
die Francis), and Best Sound. Reviews w ­ ere, likewise, mostly positive—­though
­there w
­ ere exceptions. For example Desson Howe noted that the film’s “flaws are
many, should you look for them. Scriptwriter Jarre (whose previous credit is, uh,
Rambo: First Blood Part II) provides only a superficial sense of his characters’ dreams
(his script is made better by the performers); that liberal-­hearted, misty-­eyed gid-
diness (thanks chiefly to the gushy, rhapsodizing score by James Horner) frequently
gets way out of hand; and Broderick, as the Boston Brahmin who leads the 54th to
timeless glory, provides a certain, gee-­w illikers empathy, but he should prob­ably
give Neil Simon a call and see what’s shaking. In this movie, he’s an amiable non-­
presence, creating unintentionally the notion that the 54th earned their stripes
despite wimpy leadership” (Howe, 1990).

Reel History Versus Real History


While Glory was still in theaters, Pulitzer Prize–­w inning Civil War historian
James M. McPherson (­Battle Cry of Freedom) addressed questions concerning its his-
torical veracity (McPherson, 1990, pp. 22–27). McPherson noted that the movie
got “most of the details right” and when it did not, ­there was sometimes a valid
explanation. Other inaccuracies he deems “inexplicable”:
136 G R A N D I L L U S I O N [ F REN C H : L A G R A N D E I L L U S I O N ]

The 54th began organ­izing in February 1863, not three months earlier. In


his brief cameo role, black leader Frederick Douglass is presented as a vener-
able sage whose screen appearance is modeled on a photo­graph taken a quar-
ter c­ entury ­later, when Douglass was in his 70s instead of the vigorous 45 he
was in 1863. The real Robert Gould Shaw received the offer of command of
the 54th by letter from Governor Andrew, borne by his ­father to Shaw in win-
ter camp with his regiment (the 2nd Mas­sa­chu­setts) in ­Virginia. Rob discussed
it earnestly with his ­father, wrestled with his conscience overnight, declined,
then changed his mind a day l­ ater and accepted. In the movie, Shaw is [shown]
attending an elegant drawing-­room party in Boston while on furlough when
Andrews offers the command; without a pause, Shaw accepts. Literal history
in this case would seem to have offered greater dramatic possibilities for get-
ting at a deeper truth than the cinematic version. (p. 27)

McPherson goes on to observe that, except for Shaw, the principal characters in
the film are all fictional. Furthermore, the movie gives the impression that most of
the 54th’s soldiers w ­ ere former slaves. In actuality most w ­ ere recruited from the
North and had always been f­ ree men. For McPherson ­these distortions amount to
a missed opportunity: “A dramatic and impor­tant story about the relationship of
Northern blacks to slavery and the war, and about the war­time ideals of New
­England culture, could have been constructed from a cast of real, historical figures.”
McPherson could have cited other inaccuracies or omissions as well. Col. Shaw
married Anna Kneeland Haggerty 11 weeks before his death, but the movie makes
no mention of this. The 54th’s refusal to accept pay b ­ ecause of unequal rates took
place long ­after it had left South Carolina. The movie’s depiction of Gen. Harker as a
middle-­aged officer who condoned plunder and corruption among his subordinates
is a complete fabrication. The real Harker, who died a Civil War hero at age 26 at the
­Battle of Kennesaw Mountain (27 June 1864), was an exemplary officer and not in
the least corrupt. Yet, in spite of all ­these issues, James McPherson finds the story
the filmmakers chose to tell “equally true” ­because it served to dramatize the Afri-
can American “transformation from an oppressed ­people to a proud ­people.”

­G R A N D I L L U S I O N [ F R E N C H : L A G R A N D E
ILLUSION] (1937)

Synopsis
­Grand Illusion is a French war film directed by Jean Renoir, who co-­wrote the screen-
play with Charles Spaak, based on the ­actual experiences of a number of French
aviators during the First World War. The story focuses on the relationship between
a German prisoner of war (POW) camp commandant and a small group of captive
French officers who are plotting their escape.

Background
During the First World War, Jean Renoir (son of Auguste Renoir, the ­great painter)
became close friends with Armand Pinsard (1887–1953), another pi­lot in France’s
G R A N D I L L U S I O N [ F REN C H : L A G R A N D E I L L U S I O N ] 137

Armée de l’Air (air force). Pinsard, a much-­decorated ace with 27 victories in air
combat, was shot down 8 February 1915 and sent to a German POW fa­cil­i­ty. He
made several failed escape attempts over a year before fi­nally succeeding by dig-
ging a tunnel u ­ nder the prison wall with another inmate. Renoir and Pinsard lost
touch a­ fter the war but fortuitously reconnected in 1934 when Renoir was shoot-
ing a film near Pinsard’s air base outside Marseille. Renoir asked Pinsard to recount
his exploits (already widely reported in newspapers during the war), compiled notes
about them, and entrusted his notes to Belgian screenwriter Charles Spaak as mate-
rial for a screenplay. A ­ fter Renoir wrote a treatment entitled Les evasions de Capi-
taine Maréchal in the fall of 1935, Spaak developed a screenplay that drew on
Pinsard’s stories, Renoir’s own recollections, and other memoirs written by mem-
bers of the League of War­time Escapees. A ­ fter Renoir had cast Jean Gabin—­France’s
biggest box office draw—to play Maréchal, he was able to secure a producer/­
distributer: Réalisation d’art cinématographique (RAC), a new firm founded by
Albert Pinkovitch and Frank Rollmer. Before filming started casting, characteriza-
tions, and the script continued to evolve. The role of de Boeldieu, an aristocratic
officer, was offered to Louis Jouvet and Pierre Richard-­Willm before fi­nally g­ oing
to Pierre Fresnay. A late script change involved turning Maréchal’s fellow prison
escapee into a foreign-­born Jewish officer named Rosenthal—­a daring move in an
era of rampant anti-­Semitism and xenophobia. Another audacious move on Renoir’s
part was to cast Marcel Dalio (­later, the croupier in Casablanca) as Rosenthal, an
actor usually typecast as a shady or weak minor character. Most significant, though,
was the last-­minute casting of Erich Von Stroheim as Von Rauffenstein, the German
fighter pi­lot turned prison commandant—an entirely new character that necessi-
tated a complete script overhaul by Renoir and Spaak, his assistant Jacques Becker,
and German technical advisor Carl Koch just days before shooting was scheduled
to start.

Production
Filming of La grande illusion began on 13 February 1937, with a month of exterior
shooting in the Alsace region (northeastern France). The first prison camp scenes
­were shot in the artillery barracks at Colmar built by Wilhelm II, Haut-­Rhin (Upper
Rhine), and the Wintersborn prison scenes ­were shot at the Château du Haut Koe-
nigsbourg, Orschwiller, Bas-­R hin (Lower Rhine). The last snowy scene of the film
was shot in Chamonix Valley near Mont Blanc. Location shooting was supplemented
by studio work at Studios Éclair and Studios de Boulogne-­Billancourt/SFP in Paris;
the 78-­day shoot wrapped on 15 May 1937.

Plot Summary
During the First World War, two French aviators—­Capt. de Boeldieu (Pierre
Fresnay), an aristocrat, and Lt. Maréchal (Jean Gabin), a Paris auto mechanic—­
are shot down b ­ ehind e­ nemy lines by Rittmeister von Rauffenstein (Erich von
Stroheim), a German aristocrat. They survive the crash, but are captured. Upon
returning to base, Rauffenstein sends a subordinate to invite the French flyers to
lunch. During the meal, Rauffenstein and Boeldieu discover they inhabit the same
aristocratic social circles. Boeldieu and Maréchal are then taken to a POW camp
138 G R A N D I L L U S I O N [ F REN C H : L A G R A N D E I L L U S I O N ]

Erich von Stroheim (left), as German fighter ace Rittmeister von Rauffenstein, greets
captured World War I French aviators Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay, right) and
Lieutenant Maréchal (Jean Gabin, m­ iddle) just a­ fter shooting them down, in an early
scene from Jean Renoir’s La grande illusion (1937). (Photofest)

at Hallbach, where they meet a raucous group of French POWs who stage an
impromptu vaudeville-­type per­for­m ance, complete with cross-­dressing, ­after
German soldiers take over Fort Douaumont at the beginning of the B ­ attle of
Verdun. As the POWs perform, news spreads that the French have taken back
the fort. Maréchal shuts down the per­for­mance, and the French prisoners sing
“La Marseillaise.” Boeldieu and Maréchal oversee the creation of an escape tun-
nel, but before they can complete their work, the prisoners are transferred to sepa-
rate camps. Unable to speak En­glish, Maréchal cannot share information about
the escape route, and Boeldieu and Maréchal are consistently moved around from
one camp to the next. A­ fter a series of escape attempts, they fi­nally arrive in Win-
tersborn, a supposedly escape-­proof mountain fortress-­prison commanded by
Rauffenstein, who has been hurt during ­battle, promoted, and given a post-
ing away from the front—­much to his chagrin. At Wintersborn, Boeldieu and
Maréchal are re­united with Rosenthal (Marcel Dalio), a wealthy naturalized
French Jew who offers food to his compatriots. Boeldieu comes up with an escape
idea; he volunteers to create a diversion to distract the guards so that Maréchal
and Rosenthal can escape. ­After the POWs stage a ruckus, the guards order them
to move to the courtyard. The guards realize that Boeldieu is absent from the
G R A N D I L L U S I O N [ F REN C H : L A G R A N D E I L L U S I O N ] 139

group during a roll call, but he suddenly reveals himself overhead in the fortress,
which c­ auses the German guards to pursue him in a fury. During this diversion,
Maréchal and Rosenthal escape through a win­dow. Rauffenstein begs Boeldieu
to turn himself in, but Boeldieu refuses. Rauffenstein is forced to shoot his fellow
aristocrat, sending him to his death. Having escaped the fortress, Maréchal and
Rosenthal travel on foot across Germany ­towards the Swiss border. The pair rest
in a nearby German farm­house and become friendly with the owner, Elsa (Dita
Parlo), who has suffered many losses as a result of the war. Elsa keeps the men
safe, even when a German patrol passes through. Maréchal and Elsa fall in love,
but he is forced to move on once Rosenthal recovers from his injury. Maréchal
tells Elsa that he ­w ill return for her and her d
­ aughter when the war ends. A Ger-
man patrol spots Maréchal and Rosenthal en route to the Swiss border, but the
pair crosses the border before the Germans reach them. A final long shot shows
Maréchal and Rosenthal trudging through deep snow—to freedom and an uncer-
tain ­future.

Reception
Released in France on 8 June 1937, La grande illusion proved to be a huge box office
hit. Estimates vary, but the film likely sold 10 to 12 million tickets between 1937
and 1939. France’s population was 42 million during this period, so it is likely that
roughly one out of ­every four French ­people saw the film. Screened at the 5th Ven-
ice Biennial [Film] Exposition in August 1937, La grande illusion was widely hailed
as a masterpiece of progressive humanism and a superlative anti-­war film at a time
when the Spanish Civil War was raging and the threat of fascism was menacing
Eu­rope. Naturally, Hitler’s Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels hated the film—­
despite the fact that it offers a highly sympathetic portrait of a German officer.
Declaring the movie “Cinematic Public ­Enemy Number One,” Goebbels tried to
intervene with Mussolini to prevent La grande illusion from winning a prize at Ven-
ice, but the festival jury gave it a special award for “Best Artistic Ensemble.” An
English-­subtitled version premiered in the United States on 12 September 1938,
produced solid box office returns, and was warmly received by American film crit-
ics. A favorite of FDR, who recommended that “­every demo­cratic person in the
world should see this film,” La grande illusion won the award for Best Foreign Film
at the 1938 New York Film Critics Circle Awards. But Germany and Italy banned
the film in November 1938, and ­after World War II broke out, French authorities
also banned the movie “for the duration of hostilities,” fearing it would adversely
affect fighting morale. In August 1999, Rialto Pictures re-­released the film in the
United States, based on the Cinémathèque negative. In 1998 the print was restored
and released as the inaugural DVD of the Criterion Collection. A new 4K digital
restoration was released in 2012 to mark the 75th anniversary of the film’s release.

Reel History Versus Real History


The film’s depiction of POW life is a mostly accurate repre­sen­ta­tion of Offizierlagers
(officers’ camps), of which t­ here w
­ ere 73 in Germany by the end of WWI. Living
conditions for captured Allied officers w ­ ere less harsh than t­hose endured by
140 ­GREAT ESCAPE, TH

regular troops. Offizierlagers w ­ ere usually located in requisitioned buildings


(e.g., ­castles, barracks, or ­hotels), rather than in tents and huts. Officers had more
space per man than other ranks, beds instead of straw-­filled paillasses, and din-
ing facilities. They w ­ ere exempt from work and w ­ ere allowed recreational activi-
ties like theatricals. Rauffenstein is fairly typical of camp commandants, who
tended to be older, sometimes disabled officers. On the other hand, the movie’s
depiction of the food situation at Offizierlagers is somewhat unrealistic. Even at
­these elite camps the diet of the prisoners was inadequate and malnutrition was
widespread. Furthermore, it is highly unlikely that Boeldieu and Maréchal would
have ended up at Wintersborn. Per­sis­tent escapers ­were usually consigned to
Ingolstadt Fortress in Bavaria (the WWI equivalent to Colditz ­Castle). Though the
story La grande illusion tells is fictional, Jean Renoir and Charles Spaak always
maintained that it was an embellished version of the war­time experiences of
Armand Pinsard. However, a­ fter the movie came out, another former aviator and
POW named Jean des Vallières sued Renoir and Spaak for plagiarizing his book,
Kavalier Scharnhorst, Tender Germany (Albin Michel, Paris, 1931). In des Vallières’
book ­there’s also a scene with cross-­dressing prisoners, the same use of the song,
“It Was a Small Ship,” the word “verboten” (forbidden) used as a leitmotif, and
a number of other exact coincidences. The case was settled out of court for an
undisclosed amount.

­G R E AT E S C A P E , T H E ( 1 9 6 3 )

Synopsis
The G
­ reat Escape is an American World War II epic produced and directed by John
Sturges. It is loosely based on Paul Brickhill’s 1950 book of the same title: a first-
hand account of the mass escape of British prisoners of war (POWs) from Stalag
Luft III in the province of Lower Silesia, Nazi Germany, in 1944.

Background
During the night and early morning hours of 24–25 March 1944, 76 Allied POWs
used a 350-­foot tunnel to escape from Stalag Luft III, a German POW camp in
Lower Silesia near the town of Sagan (now Żagań, Poland), 100 miles southeast of
Berlin. Three made it all the way home, but the rest ­were soon recaptured, and 50
of the 73 escapees w­ ere subsequently executed on Hitler’s o­ rders. Paul Brickhill
(1916–1991), an Australian-­born Spitfire pi­lot shot down in Tunisia and impris-
oned at Stalag Luft III, was involved in the mass escape, but the Germans discov-
ered the tunnel before Brickhill had a chance to make his own attempt—­a
happenstance that prob­ably saved his life. A ­ fter the war, Brickhill wrote The ­Great
Escape (1950), a well-­researched account of the large and complex escape opera-
tion and its aftermath that brought the incident to wide public attention. Over the
next de­cade, Brickhill received lots of offers to sell the film rights but resisted ­until
American film director John Sturges (Bad Day at Black Rock) eventually persuaded
Brickhill that he would make a film true to the history. Sturges had trou­ble
­GREAT ESCAPE, TH 141

­ ntil he made The Magnificent Seven (1960), a hit


in­ter­est­ing a Hollywood studio u
Western based on Akira Kurasawa’s The Seven Samurai and produced by the
Mirisch Com­pany. On the strength of that picture, the Mirisch ­brothers—­Walter,
Marvin, and Harold—­agreed to back Sturges’s escape movie, and United Artists
signed on to distribute the picture. Sturges hired novelist-­screenwriter W. R.
Burnett (The Asphalt Jungle) to adapt Brickhill’s novel to the screen and ­later hired
James Clavell (King Rat), a former POW in the Pacific, to make script revisions. The
original plan was to film The ­Great Escape at a POW camp set constructed in the
San Gabriel Mountains near Big Bear Lake, 100 miles east of Hollywood, but Stur-
ges ultimately opted to film in Germany to achieve greater verisimilitude, but also
­because the cost of hiring lots of extras at union-­mandated rates in California
proved prohibitive (Rubin, 2011, pp.  132–135). Most of the principal cast was
signed by the spring of 1962, with one impor­tant change. Richard Harris was sup-
posed to play role of Roger Bartlett, aka “Big X,” the chief escape or­ga­nizer based
on RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bushell (1910–1944), but dropped out due to
scheduling conflicts and was replaced by Richard Attenborough.

Production
The four-­month ­Great Escape shoot at Geiselgasteig Studios outside Munich, Bavaria,
started on 4 June 1962, but rainy weather forced Sturges to alter the schedule and
shoot interior scenes from the ­middle part of the picture first. By mid-­July, a­ fter
six weeks of rushes, Steve McQueen became unhappy with his part, which he
deemed too small and sketchy. Headstrong and intensely ambitious, McQueen
­really wanted to be first among equals in what was supposed to be another Stur-
ges ensemble production. He badgered Sturges and W. R. Burnett but did not get
the script rewrites he wanted, so he went on strike for six weeks. Actually fired at
the end of August, McQueen stayed in the picture ­after negotiations with Sturges
and United Artists, mediated by his agent Stan Kamen, resolved the situation, and
screenwriter Ivan Moffett was brought in to beef up McQueen’s role. A ­ fter chal-
lenging and dangerous stunt work with motorcycles and airplanes was completed
in October, the long and arduous shoot fi­nally wrapped.

Plot Summary
It is 1943 and the Germans have moved their most escape-­prone POWs to a new
high-­security POW camp. The commandant, Luftwaffe Col. von Luger (Hannes
Messemer), tells the se­nior British officer, Group Captain Ramsey (James Donald),
“­There ­w ill be no escapes from this camp.” The POWs try and fail a number of
times when they first arrive, but eventually accept their fate and fall into a routine.
Meanwhile, Gestapo agents Kuhn (Hans Reiser) and Preissen (Ulrich Beiger) and
SS Lieutenant Dietrich (George Mikell) deliver RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bartlett,
aka “Big X” (Richard Attenborough), a master escape or­ga­nizer, to the camp. Bartlett
is warned that if he escapes the camp again, he ­w ill be killed. Undaunted, Bartlett
immediately begins to plan the greatest escape ever attempted—250 to 300 pris-
oners scattered all over Germany so that massive numbers of German soldiers ­w ill
be relegated to searching for escapees rather than being deployed at the front. The
142 ­GREAT ESCAPE, TH

POWs duly or­ga­nize themselves into teams, each specializing in a dif­fer­ent aspect
of the escape attempt. Flight Lieutenant Robert Hendley (James Garner) is “the
scrounger” who obtains needed materials. Australian Flying Officer Louis Sedg-
wick (James Coburn), “the manufacturer,” makes tools for digging and bellows for
pumping air into the tunnels. Flight Lieutenants Danny Valinski (Charles Bron-
son) and William “Willie” Dickes (John Leyton) are “the tunnel kings” in charge
of the a­ ctual digging. Flight Lieutenant Andrew MacDonald (Gordon Jackson) acts
as intelligence officer, and Bartlett’s second-­i n-­command. Royal Navy Lt. Com-
mander Eric Ashley-­Pitt (David McCallum) is in charge of dispersal, that is, spread-
ing the soil from the tunnels over the camp grounds, undetected. Flight Lieutenant
Griffith (Robert Desmond) acts as “the tailor,” creating civilian outfits out of mili-
tary uniforms. Flight Lieutenant Colin Blythe (Donald Pleasence), in charge of
forging German identity documents, almost goes blind from the strain on his eyes
from all of his detailed work by candlelight (Hendley becomes Blythe’s guide). To
ensure a reasonable chance of success, the prisoners work on a trio of tunnels all at
once, naming them “Tom,” “Dick,” and “Harry.” USAAF Captain Virgil Hilts (Steve
McQueen), the “Cooler King,” persists in badgering the guards by trying to escape
again and again while displaying an uncooperative attitude. Hilts and RAF Flying
Officer Archibald Ives (Angus Lennie) devise a plan to flee through a shorter tunnel
near the edge of camp, one that Bartlett agrees to with the knowledge that he c­ an’t
shoot down all individual escape attempts if he hopes for his g­ rand scheme to suc-
ceed. Hilts and Ives are promptly caught and punished. When Hilt is released from
“the cooler,” Bartlett asks him to use his next escape attempt to reconnoiter the area
around the camp. Hilts turns Bartlett down, but helps the collective escape effort by
becoming a scrounger. Hendley becomes friendly with a German patrolman named
Werner (Robert Graf) and steals his ID documents in order to blackmail the hapless
guard into securing materials necessary to the prisoners’ escape. As “Tom” nears
completion, Bartlett shuts down “Dick” and “Harry.” While the POWs celebrate the
July Fourth holiday, the guards find “Tom”—­a major, morale-­crushing setback.
Ives, driven mad by isolation in “the cooler,” attempts to climb the camp’s barbed
wire fence in full view of the guards. He is killed as a result. Not to be deterred, the
POWs set back to work on “Harry.” Hilts agrees to do some reconnaissance outside
of the camp grounds, be recaptured, and then report on his findings so that the
group can make maps to guide escapees. The final section of the tunnel is fin-
ished on time, but it ends up being 20 feet short of the woods, which ­were meant
to provide cover. Bartlett proceeds with the escape, and Hilt devises a system for
signaling the prisoners so that they can leave the tunnel between patrol sweeps.
Danny, who has spent a lengthy amount of time in the tunnels, now suffers from
severe claustrophobia and almost refuses to leave. In all, 76 prisoners manage to
escape before the Germans catch on, but a­ fter attempts to reach neutral coun-
tries, almost all the POWs are recaptured or killed. Hendley and Blythe steal a
plane to fly over the Swiss border, but the engine fails and they crash. Hendley sur-
renders, but Blythe, now blind, does not put his hands up and is shot dead. Bartlett
is discovered at a busy railway station, but Ashely-­Pitt overpowers the Gestapo
agent and shoots him, only to be killed while attempting his own escape. In the
­GREAT ESCAPE, TH 143

commotion, Bartlett and MacDonald manage to escape, but are captured getting
on a bus, when MacDonald mistakenly replies to a Gestapo agent in En­glish. Mac-
Donald is quickly arrested but Bartlett manages to escape, though he is soon rec-
ognized and arrested by SS Lieutenant Steinach (Karl-­Otto Alberty). Hilts steals a
motorcycle and is subsequently chased by a large contingent of German soldiers.
He passes over the German-­Swiss border and gets into the Neutral Zone, but then
gets tangled in barbed wire and is arrested. Three trucks containing POWs go down
a road and then split in dif­fer­ent directions. The first vehicle, carry­ing, MacDon-
ald, Cavendish, Haynes, and o­ thers, stops in a field, and the d ­ rivers ask the cap-
tives to exit the truck to “stretch their legs.” They are killed. In total, 50 prisoners
are killed and only Hendley and 9 fellow captives are brought back to the camp.
Von Luger has been discharged. Only three POWs make it out of Nazi Germany.
Danny and Willie row a boat to the Baltic coast and then stow away on a Swedish
vessel. Sedgwick pilfers a bicycle and hides on a freight train that takes him to
France, where he is brought to Spain by the French Re­sis­tance. Hilts is brought
back to the camp alone in handcuffs and ends up in the cooler. USAAF Lt. Goff
(Jud Taylor) grabs Hilts’ baseball and glove, tossing them his way when Hilt walks
by with the German guards. The guard locks Hilts in, and we hear the prisoner
throwing his ball against the cell wall.

Reception
The G­ reat Escape had its world premiere at the Odeon in Leicester Square, London,
on 20 June 1963 and went into wide release in North Amer­i­ca on the Fourth of July
weekend. The movie did respectably well at the box office, grossing $11.7 million;
almost ­triple its $4 million production bud­get, making it the 17th highest-­grossing
American film of 1963. The movie also earned a Golden Globe nomination for Best
Picture and a Writers Guild of Amer­i­ca Award nomination for Best Written Ameri-
can Drama (Screenplay Adaptation). Less demanding critics, like Judith Crist, found
The ­Great Escape exhilarating: “A first-­rate adventure film, fascinating in its detail,
suspenseful in its plot, stirring in its climax and excellent in per­for­mance . . . ​Steve
McQueen takes the honors” (Crist, 1963). As was often the case, Bosley Crowther
voiced his dissent, panning the film as puerile, unrealistic, and manipulative:
“Nobody is ­going to con me . . . ​into believing that the spirit of defiance in any
prisoner-­of-­war camp anywhere was as arrogant, romantic and Rover Boyish as it is
made to appear in this film. And nobody’s ­going to induce me with shameless Hol-
lywood cliffhanging tricks . . . ​to surrender my reason and my emotions to the sort
of fiction fabricated ­here . . . ​It’s strictly a mechanical adventure with make-­believe
men” (Crowther, 1963). Four years ­after its theatrical release CBS aired The ­Great
Escape on TV (in two parts) in September 1967, exposing the film to a much wider
viewing audience and cementing its stature as a classic of the POW war film genre.

Reel History Versus Real History


The G
­ reat Escape is a reasonably accurate rendition of POW life at Stalag Luft III,
though living conditions ­were more wretched than the film suggests. The look of the
camp and its environs, the tunnels, the escape organ­ization and all its specialized
144 GUADALCANAL DIARY

functions, the a­ ctual (interrupted) escape, and its grim aftermath—­all are faith-
fully shown. In many other ways, however, the movie is grossly inaccurate. As
detailed in Brickhill’s book, the ­actual escape operation involved some 600
POWs in specialized tasks. For narrative clarity, the film features about a dozen
composite characters representing all ­these men: an understandable but mislead-
ing bit of streamlining. Commercial imperatives forced the filmmakers to depart
from history in even more significant ways. An American-­made film for an Ameri-
can market, The ­Great Escape numbers four A-­list American movie stars—­Steve
McQueen, James Garner (playing a Canadian), James Coburn (playing an Austra-
lian), and Charles Bronson (playing a Pole)—­among its top-­billed roles. Further-
more, all the characters portrayed by the Americans survive, whereas many of the
British POWs die. Captured American aviators did work on the construction of
the tunnels, but by the time of the escape, all of them had been moved to a sepa-
rate compound. The film’s portrayal of McQueen’s Virgil Hilts escaping along with
his British counter­parts is therefore a Hollywood fabrication, along with Hilts’
motorcycle heroics, which w ­ ere inserted at McQueen’s request—­rousing action cin-
ema but bad history. Hilts’ unflappable insouciance defined Steve McQueen’s star
persona, but as Bosley Crowther suggests earlier, it owed more to Hollywood than
to history, though Hilts’ “Cooler King” character was based on Flight Lieutenant
Jackson Barrett “Barry” Mahon (1920–1999), an American-­born RAF pi­lot who
served as a technical advisor on the film. (Mahon was shot down in August 1942
and sent to Stalag Luft III. In “the cooler” a­ fter his second escape, he could not
participate in the mass escape, which likely saved his life. During the film shoot
McQueen took a liking to Mahon—­who also once served as Errol Flynn’s pilot—­
and asked to have Mahon’s background written into the Hilts’s character.) Another
example of dramatic license: the film shows the retaliatory murders of the 50 recap-
tured escapers—­but not in the manner in which they occurred. Most of the vic-
tims ­were actually driven to isolated spots in small groups, told to get out and
stretch their legs, and ­were then shot through the back of the head, not machine-­
gunned en masse, as depicted in the film (though the Germans did that too, at
Malmedy, Belgium, on 17 December 1944, when SS troopers murdered 84 Ameri-
can POWs during the B ­ attle of the Bulge).

G U A D A L C A N A L D I A RY ( 1 9 4 3 )

Synopsis
Guadalcanal Diary is a World War II war film directed by Lewis Seiler, featuring
Preston Foster, Lloyd Nolan, William Bendix, Richard Conte, Anthony Quinn, and
Richard Jaeckel. Based on the best-­selling book of the same title by Richard Tre-
gaskis, the film recounts the fight of the United States Marines in the B
­ attle of Gua-
dalcanal in 1942.

Background
Richard Tregaskis (1916–1973), a 25-­year-­old war correspondent for International
News Ser­v ice, was with U.S. Marine Corps troops when they hit the beach at
GUADALCANAL DIARY 145

Guadalcanal Island (in the Solomon Island chain) on 7 August 1942. Tregaskis


stayed on to cover the first three months of their increasingly bloody strug­gle to
wrest control of the island from Japa­nese forces. On 18 November Tregaskis
signed a deal with Random House to publish a book culled from his newspaper
dispatches entitled Guadalcanal Diary. In early December, 20th ­Century Fox pur-
chased the film rights, winning a bidding war with the other major studios. By
March 1943 Lewis Seiler had signed on as director. By early April it was announced
that William Bendix would appear in the picture and that Victor McLaglen
would play “­Father Donnelly” and Preston Foster would take the role of “Capt.
Cross.” Ultimately Foster played the Donnelly character and McLaglen was given
the “Col. Grayson” role but was ­later replaced by Minor Watson. Anthony Quinn,
of Mexican Irish extraction, was cast in the heroic role of “Soose Alvarez” in order
to help improve the public image of the United States in Latin American coun-
tries. An added selling point for Quinn is that he closely resembled Sgt. Frank
Few from Buckeye, Arizona, who was one of the heroes of Guadalcanal. Eddie
Acuff’s character, “Tex Mcllvoy,” was based on Gunnery Sgt. Charles E. Angus, a
Marine rifleman famous for his marksmanship on Guadalcanal. The studio won
the crucial cooperation of the War Department on the condition that the script,
based on “Marines in the Pacific,” a treatment by George Bricker and Herman
Ruby, be completely revised for historical accuracy. The studio complied, assign-
ing Lamar Trotti and Jerome Cady, with uncredited contributions by Kenneth
Gamet and Waldo Salt, to rewrite the film so that it faithfully followed Tregaskis’s
book. The only major departure was to focus the narrative on a single unit of
Marines instead of depicting the entire campaign. For its part, the U.S. military sup-
plied 5,000 Marines, 1,000 soldiers, 300 sailors, a transport ship, landing craft,
tanks, planes, guns, ­etc. (Stanley, 1943).

Production
The beach landing scenes in Guadalcanal Diary ­were shot at Catalina Island off
the California coast, but most of the movie was filmed at Camp Pendleton, near
Ocean­side, California (about 90 miles south of Los Angeles), between mid-­May and
late July 1943—­less than a year a­ fter the events it depicts. Many of the Marines
stationed t­here ­were filmed while on maneuvers, and many of them appeared in
the picture in small speaking parts or as extras. The shoot was overseen by two
(uncredited) technical advisors: Lt. James W. Hurlbut, a Marine Corps war corre-
spondent who was at Guadalcanal with Tregaskis, and Capt. Clarence Martin, who
fought at Guadalcanal with the first detachment of Marines.

Plot Summary
Throughout the film, voice-­over narration is supplied by Reed Hadley (the war cor-
respondent based on Richard Tregaskis), who describes the action and gives
impor­tant dates. On 26 July 1942, a transport ship carry­ing a large contingent of
Marines sails through the South Pacific. Sailing ­under sealed o­ rders, the men make
the most of the 11 days they have left at sea by singing, writing letters, and con-
versing with the war correspondent traveling with them. The men include ­Father
Donnelly (Preston Foster), Col. Wallace E. Grayson (Minor Watson), Capt. Jim Cross
146 GUADALCANAL DIARY

(Roy Roberts), Capt. Davis (Richard Conte), Sgt. Hook Malone (Lloyd Nolan),
Corp. Aloysius “Taxi” Potts (William Bendix), Pvt. Jesus “Soose” Alvarez (Anthony
Quinn), and Pvt. Johnny “Chicken” Anderson (Richard Jaeckel). Grayson discovers
that the men are being sent to Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands (northwest of
Australia) and that other troops are being deployed to Tulagi. Cross and Davis
or­ga­nize the upcoming landings, and Donnelly bolsters the troops. While Cross
and Davis plan the landing of the first two companies, Donnelly goes below to
encourage the men. On 7 August 1942, the Marines land on Tulagi against stiff
­enemy re­sis­tance but land on Guadalcanal uncontested. ­There they quickly secure
the airfield, make camp, and post lookouts for the ­enemy, but Japa­nese snipers,
lurking in the jungle, soon pick off American soldiers one by one. Davis falls ill,
and Capt. Cross commands a group of soldiers to look into a native’s tip that a
unit of Japa­nese soldiers is prepared to surrender. As the troops proceed, they are
assaulted in the w­ ater by a Japa­nese submarine and the survivors are pinned down
by machine-­gun fire once they land on the beach. The men dig in and form a defen-
sive perimeter but are soon decimated. Only Soose survives, a­ fter jumping into
the ocean and swimming back to the main camp. Seeking vengeance, Col. Gray-
son leads a successful attack on Matanikau in force. Thereafter, the soldiers are
engaged in a series of skirmishes and subjected to constant aerial attacks. Hender-
son airfield is rebuilt over the next few weeks, allowing supplies and reinforcements
in to the region. On 10 November 1942, several units of Marines u ­ nder the com-
mand of Col. Grayson begin a major offensive with the aim of destabilizing Japa­
nese soldiers. Soose dies in ­battle, but Johnny Anderson is able to kill the men who
attack him, leaving the Marines victorious. On 10 December 1942 U.S. Army troops
relieve the Marines.

Reception
Released on 17 November 1943, Guadalcanal Diary earned $3 million at the box
office: 20th ­Century Fox’s second highest-­grossing movie (­after Sweet Rosie O’Grady)
of the 17 films the studio released in 1943. Most reviews commended the film as
an honest and entertaining paean to the soldiers who fought at Guadalcanal, but
film critic David Lardner castigated the movie as exhibiting “­every cliché known
to man” and for the Marines being depicted as having “altogether too soft a time”
as compared to what the Marines r­ eally experienced (Lardner, 1943).

Reel History Versus Real History


Capt. Cross’s ill-­fated patrol is based on an ­actual 25-­man recon patrol led by Lt.
Col. Frank B. Goettge on 12 August 1942 that landed near the Matanikau River
estuary, on the northwest part of the island, in a Higgins boat. The patrol was sub-
sequently ambushed and virtually wiped out by a larger Japa­nese force. In the movie
only “Soose” Alvarez survives, but actually three men (Sgt. Frank L. Few, Sgt.
Charles C. Arndt, and Cpl. Joseph Spaul­ding) survived by swimming down the
coast to their base at Kukum. The film inaccurately depicts the Japa­nese as having
lured the Americans into a trap by trickery; the massacre was more the result of
Goettge’s poor planning. The movie also sanitizes the engagement by omitting the
G U N S O F N AVA R O N E , T H E 147

aftermath in which the Japa­nese hacked the dead and ­dying Marines to pieces
with swords. In his review of the film published in the New York Times the day
­after it was released, film critic Bosley Crowther pointed up other aspects of the
movie’s shortcomings with regard to historical accuracy: “The clear weakness of
this picture is that Lamar Trotti and Jerry Cady, who prepared the script, have all
too freely rigged up a patent fiction to fit the pattern of a film. Baldly, they have
made the implication that air support did not reach Henderson Field ­until Oct. 14
[1942] although the fact is that we had fighters ­there by mid-­August. Also, they
have skipped completely the ­battles of the Tenaru River [21 August 1942] and “The
[Edson] Ridge” [12–14 September 1942] and have saved their heavy fire and fury
for the big advance against the ­enemy on Nov. 10. And the historic episode of Cap-
tain Torge[r]son tossing dynamite into caves on Tulagi has been ­here attributed to
a heroic sergeant and geo­graph­i­cally transplanted to Guadalcanal” (Crowther, 18
Nov. 1943).

G U N S O F N AVA R O N E , T H E ( 1 9 6 1 )

Synopsis
The Guns of Navarone is a British-­American war film/adventure epic directed by J.
Lee Thompson; produced and written by Carl Foreman; and starring Gregory Peck,
David Niven, Stanley Baker, and Anthony Quinn. Based on Alistair MacLean’s 1957
novel, The Guns of Navarone, the film is about an Allied commando unit on a peril-
ous mission to destroy two outsized German cannons that threaten Allied naval
ships in the Aegean Sea.

Background
­After the spectacular sales success of HMS Ulysses (Collins, 1955), a novel based
on his war experiences, Scotsman Alistair MacLean (1922–1987), a WWII British
Royal Navy veteran, went on to publish another 27 adventure-­thrillers over the
next 31 years. His second novel was The Guns of Navarone (Collins, 1957), another
bestseller, inspired by the B
­ attle of Leros (26 September–16 November 1943) dur-
ing the Dodecanese Campaign in the Aegean Sea that resulted in a German vic-
tory over Allied forces. Blacklisted screenwriter-­producer Carl Foreman acquired
the film rights for his own production com­pany (Open Road Films), wrote the first
draft of a screen adaptation in 1958, and secured a production deal with Colum-
bia Pictures. Foreman hoped to sign William Holden (The Bridge on the River Kwai)
in the lead role of Capt. Mallory but Holden wanted $750,000 and 10 ­percent of
the gross, and so he was not hired. A ­ fter a raft of “A-­list” actors passed on the part,
it fi­nally went to Gregory Peck. Ironically, Peck secured the exact same deal that
the studio refused Holden. By March 1960 the rest of the principal roles went to a
distinguished cast: Anthony Quinn, David Niven, Anthony Quail, and Stanley
Baker. Teen idol James Darren (Gidget) was cast for youth audience appeal. Like-
wise, two Greek re­sis­tance fighters who ­were male in the novel became ­women in
the movie version in order to lend the picture more sex appeal. Foreman initially
148 G U N S O F N AVA R O N E , T H E

signed Greek opera star Maria Callas and Roger Vadim’s then-­w ife, Danish actress
Annette Stroyberg, to t­ hese roles but both soon dropped out and w ­ ere replaced by
Gia Scala and Irene Papas. At 24, 26, and 34, respectively, Darren, Scala, and Papas
­were the only major cast members plausibly young enough to have been low-­
ranking combatants in WWII. Most of the other principal characters w ­ ere in their
mid-­to-­late 40s (Niven was 50)—­really too old to be members of a crack com-
mando unit. Indeed, the British press cheekily dubbed The Guns of Navarone
“El­derly Gang Goes Off to War.” Foreman signed Alexander Mackendrick (The
Ladykillers) to direct but fired him a­ fter a quarrel “over creative differences” and
replaced him with J. Lee Thompson in June 1960.

Production
Carl Foreman wanted to shoot the picture’s outdoor scenes on location in Cyprus,
but rumors of an impending civil war prompted him to opt for the Greek Isle of
Rhodes. Initially bud­geted at $2 million, the production ended up costing t­riple
that amount due to logistical challenges: remote locations, simulated b ­ attles on land
and sea, elaborate studio sets (including a mock German fortress that covered an
acre and a half and stood 140 feet high), a faux shipwreck during a violent storm,
complicated combat pyrotechnics with real explosives, and the need to hire a dozen
U.S.-­built destroyers from the Greek navy and 1,000 Greek soldiers to imperson-
ate a German Wehrmacht regiment. The production lasted seven and a half months
(March–­October  1960), during which cinematographer Oswald Morris shot
67 hours of raw color footage for a film with a final cut of 2.6 hours duration—­a
38-­to-1 shooting ratio that was about four times the industry average in that era. The
shoot on Rhodes lasted three months and was a rugged experience for all involved,
but the remainder of the shoot at Shepperton Studios outside London proved to be
unexpectedly grueling as well. To stage the storm-­induced wreck of the comman-
do’s fishing boat u­ nder properly controlled conditions required the use of an enor-
mous w ­ ater tank (120 ft. × 100 ft. that held 250,000 gallons) inside Eu­rope’s largest
sound stage at Shepperton. An adjacent supply tank held another 75,000 gallons.
Over 4,200 gallons (16 tons) of ­water hurtled down four ­giant chutes onto the actors
and the set while ­giant fans blew spray around ­every time Foreman yelled “Action!”
(­Meade, 1961, pp. E1, E5). On 26 June Peck and Quinn ­were injured when they
­were swept across the set too forcefully by one of Foreman’s artificial waves. On
8 September the German fortress set that took five months to build at a cost of
$280,000 partially collapsed and had to be rebuilt, causing further delays. While
shooting a climactic scene in the German fortress, David Niven contracted a near-­
fatal case of septicemia through a cut lip while standing for hours in a flooded
elevator shaft. He spent weeks in the hospital but recovered enough to shoot his
remaining scenes.

Plot Summary
In 1943, the Axis powers coordinate an attack on Leros, an island where 2,000
British soldiers are stranded, to convince Turkey to join the fight. The Royal Navy
is unable to retrieve the soldiers due to the radar-­directed cannons situated in
G U N S O F N AVA R O N E , T H E 149

bomb-­proof caves on Navarone. The Allied forces then bring together a group of
six operatives to land on Navarone and neutralize the weapons. Major Roy Frank-
lin (Anthony Quayle) leads the team, made up of Franklin’s best friend, Corporal
Miller (David Niven), a bomb expert; Captain Keith Mallory (Gregory Peck), a spy
and mountaineer; Greek Col. Andrea Stavrou (Anthony Quinn); Greco-­American
Spyros Pappadimos (James Darren), a native of Navarone; and “Butcher” Brown
(Stanley Baker), an engineer and knife expert. Posing as fishermen from Greece
aboard the Maria, a small fishing boat, they make their way across the Aegean Sea
to Navarone, killing the sailors on a German patrol vessel when it attempts to board
their vessel. During the sea voyage, Mallory tells Franklin that Stavrou plans to
murder him a­ fter the war is over as retribution for mistakenly killing Stavrou’s
spouse and ­children. The soldiers shipwreck on the island of Navarone during a
tempest, and Mallory brings the crew up a steep cliff to safety. Franklin falls dur-
ing the climb and injures his leg, which eventually becomes gangrenous. Once in
the mountains, Franklin resolves to commit suicide so as not to be a burden on
his comrades but Mallory saves Franklin by telling him a lie, claiming that their
­orders have changed and the Navy ­w ill attack the Navarone coastline, far from the
gun emplacements. The unit meets up with some local re­sis­tance combatants: Spy-
ros’s ­sister Maria (Irene Papas) and her friend Anna (Gia Scala), who became mute
­after being tortured by the Germans. The troops are then taken prisoner while look-
ing for a doctor to assist Franklin. Stavrou makes a scene during their interroga-
tion, giving his comrades time to overtake their enemies. They get away using
German uniforms, moving on without Franklin in the hopes that he w ­ ill be treated
for his injuries. The Germans soon inject Franklin with scopolamine (aka “Dev­il’s
Breath,” a mind control drug) and he tells them the incorrect information supplied
by Mallory, as anticipated; the main fort is emptied to prepare for the assault. ­After
invading Navarone, Miller finds that the majority of his bombs have been com-
promised, possibly by Anna. The unit questions Anna, and she admits that she is
not mute, but is actually a German in­for­mant working ­towards her own release.
Mallory goes to kill her, but Maria beats him to it. The team splits up. Mallory and
Miller make a move ­towards the weapons while Stavrou and Spyros come up with
diversions throughout the town and Marian and Brown procure a boat to aid their
escape. As the mission proceeds, Spyros and Brown are killed. Mallory and Miller
are able to break into the gun emplacement, but mistakenly trip an alarm as they
close the doors to the cave area. Miller rigs the guns with explosive devices and
places even more explosives below the weapons on an ammunition hoist, with a
trigger device set into the hoist’s wheels. German soldiers force their way into the
gun emplacement, but Miller and Mallory are able to escape by swimming to the
boat stolen by Marian and Brown. Stavrou, badly injured, is lifted onto the boat by
Mallory, which erases all ill ­will between them. The Germans notice the explosives
on their weapons and choose to send their shells ­towards the Allied forces, but as
the guns fire, the ammunition hoist falls low enough to trip the hidden explosives.
The fortress blows up, along with all of the weapons ­housed within it. Mallory’s unit
meets up with the other British forces, but Stavrou opts to go back to Navarone with
Maria. Miller and Mallory go back home, glad of their successful mission.
150 G U N S O F N AVA R O N E , T H E

Reception
The Guns of Navarone had its world premiere as a Royal Command Per­for­mance on
27 April 1961 at the Odeon, Leicester Square, in London’s West End, with Queen
Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh in attendance. Opening in the United States
in June, the film went on to gross $28.9 million in international ticket sales. A
­ fter
West Side Story, it was the second top-­grossing film of 1961, earning a net profit of
$18.5 million. Guns won two Golden Globe awards (for Best Picture and for Best
Original Score) and garnered six Oscar nominations, winning for Best Special
Effects. Notices w­ ere mostly favorable, but the anonymous reviewer who was at
the movie’s London premiere astutely noted that the film was short on meaningful
characterization: “The lesson to be learned from The Guns of Navarone is that a well-­
told and exciting story does not require too many characters; nor does it need
psychological undertones. It can even dispense with w ­ omen. All it needs is pace
and credibility” (1961, p. 18). Bosley Crowther voiced a similar judgment: “One
simply won­ders why Mr. Foreman, who contributed to the screen play of The Bridge
on the River Kwai, d ­ idn’t aim for more complex ­human drama, while setting his
sights on ­those guns” (Crowther, 1961).

Reel History Versus Real History


­There is no island called Navarone. Though perhaps inspired by the B ­ attle of Leros,
the story told by The Guns of Navarone is entirely fictional and more than a l­ittle
far-­fetched. Nonetheless, another source of inspiration for novel and film might
have been Operation Brassard, the Allied invasion and capture of the island of Elba,
off the west coast of Italy (17–19 June  1944). Part of that operation involved
87 men from the ­Free French Bataillion de Choc Commando landing at Cape Enfola
in rubber dinghies, scaling the crest of the 1,300-­foot Monte Tambone Ridge, and
successfully taking out four gun batteries. The superguns depicted in the movie
are fictional, but the Germans did possess two superguns that ­were used to destroy
Rus­sian fortifications during Operation Barbarossa: “Schwerer Gustav” (“Heavy
Gustav”) and “Dora.” T ­ hese ­were massive Krupp-­made railway guns—­almost twice
the size of the biggest guns on WWII battleships—­weighed nearly 1,350 tons, and
could fire projectiles 800 mm (31.5 inches) in dia­meter, each weighing 7 tons, to
a range of 47 kilo­meters (29 miles). In the movie the fictional superguns have been
installed in a capacious mountain cave on a small Greek island. Their size is hard
to gauge, but if they w­ ere anywhere near as huge as “Schwerer Gustav” and “Dora,”
such an installation would have been a logistical nightmare, if not altogether
impossible.
H
H A C K S AW R I D G E ( 2 0 1 6 )

Synopsis
Hacksaw Ridge is a biopic/war film written by Andrew Knight and Robert Schenk-
kan and directed by Mel Gibson. Based on the 2004 documentary The Conscien-
tious Objector and other sources, the film focuses on Desmond Doss (played by
Andrew Garfield), a Seventh Day Adventist conscientious objector turned combat
medic who was awarded the Medal of Honor for his heroic actions during the World
War II B
­ attle of Okinawa.

Background
During the ­Battle of Okinawa (1 April–22 June 1945), Pfc. Desmond T. Doss (1919–
2006), a combat medic assigned with the 77th Infantry Division, risked his life to
save dozens of wounded comrades, carry­ing them from the battlefield u ­ nder heavy
fire and lowering them by a rope sling down the 400-­foot-­high cliff face of the
Maeda Escarpment (aka “Hacksaw Ridge”). During this engagement Doss was him-
self badly wounded. Doss’s incredibly heroic actions earned him the Medal of
Honor, making him the first conscientious objector to be so honored. In the 1950s
Hollywood producers Darryl Zanuck and Hal B. Wallis tried to get Doss to sell them
his story, but to no avail. Years ­later a non-­Adventist named Booton Herndon wrote
The Unlikeliest Hero (1967), a Doss biography read in 1974 by Stan Jensen, commu-
nications director for the Seventh Day Adventist Church in Canada. Convinced that
Doss’s saga would make a g­ reat movie, Jensen moved to Los Angeles in 1996 to be
closer to the Hollywood film industry in hopes of persuading a producer to make
a film about Doss. In 2001 Jensen met screenwriter-­producer Gregory Crosby
(grand­son of Bing Crosby) during a special event at Jensen’s bookstore. ­After read-
ing the book Crosby agreed that it should be made into a movie. Next, Jensen and
Crosby traveled to rural Georgia to convince Doss, then 82, to let them make the
film. Desmond Doss had not altered his views on Hollywood; he feared that a
movie would sensationalize his life and disparage his religious beliefs, but Jen-
sen and Crosby ­were ultimately able to convince Doss to give his assent. Crosby
wrote a treatment and he and a close friend, stunt coordinator Joel Kramer, pitched
Doss’s story to film producer David Permut of Permut Pre­sen­ta­tions. Permut com-
mitted to the proj­ect but it then entered a 14-­year period of “development hell.”
The film rights changed hands several times, moving from director Terry Bene-
dict to producer Bill Mechanic to Walden Media and then back to Bill Mechanic.
Mechanic was determined to get Mel Gibson to direct the film version of Doss’s
152 H A C K S AW R I D G E

story, and although he turned it down twice (as he had when approached about
directing Braveheart in 1995), he eventually agreed in November 2014. Si­mul­ta­
neously, Andrew Garfield agreed to play the main role of Desmond Doss.

Production
The filming of Hacksaw Ridge took place in and around Sydney, New South Wales,
Australia, over 59 shooting days (29 September–17 December 2015). Properly set-­
dressed with period signs and cars, a street in the town of Richmond, northwest
of Sydney, stood in for a street in Doss’s hometown of Lynchburg, ­Virginia, in the
1940s. A cemetery scene was filmed at Sydney’s Centennial Park. Doss’s basic train-
ing scenes at Fort Jackson in 1942 w ­ ere shot at Newington Armory in Sydney’s
Olympic Park. Some of the battlefield scenes ­were shot at Fox Studios’ backlot in
Sydney, but most ­were shot at a dairy farm in Bringelly, about 20 miles west of
Sydney, a set that included a partial mock-up of Hacksaw Ridge. Transforming a
cow pasture in Bringelly into a facsimile of the Okinawa battlefield required clear-­
cutting and bulldozing a 1,200-­acre parcel of land, but the producers won gov-
ernment approval on the proviso that part of the land be rehabilitated ­after the
shoot ended, a deal that mollified local environmentalists. For wide-­angle shots of
Hacksaw Ridge the filmmakers filmed cliffs near Goulburn, 120 miles southwest
of Sydney. Gibson was against using computer-­generated imagery (CGI) during the
­battle scenes, so special effects w
­ ere kept at a minimum.

Plot Summary
The film opens with a young Desmond Doss (Darcy Bryce) nearly killing his ­brother
Hal (Roman Guerriero). This experience, along with an upbringing in the church,
sets Desmond on a course of nonviolence. As he becomes a young man, Doss
(Andrew Garfield) charitably brings a wounded man to a nearby hospital and
encounters Nurse Dorothy Schutte (Teresa Palmer). As the pair start dating, Doss
voices an interest in the medical profession. A ­ fter Pearl Harbor, Doss enlists in the
Army. His f­ ather Tom (Hugo Weaving), an embittered alcoholic who is also a World
War I veteran, is repulsed by his son’s decision. Before leaving for Fort Jackson
(South Carolina), Doss becomes engaged to Dorothy. U ­ nder the command of Sgt.
Howell (Vince Vaughn), Doss excels in his training but becomes a pariah among
the troops for steering clear of weapons and refusing to complete training on
Saturdays (the Seventh-­d ay Adventist Sabbath). Howell and Capt. Glover (Sam
Worthington) try to have Doss discharged on psychiatric grounds but fail so they
proceed to make Doss’s life miserable so h ­ e’ll quit. A
­ fter finishing basic training,
Doss goes on leave. While he aims to return home and marry Dorothy, he is instead
arrested for refusing to carry a r­ ifle. Dorothy pleads with Doss during her visits to
prison, asking him to admit guilt so that he can be released to her without pen-
alty. However, Doss stays true to his religious beliefs and pleads not guilty at his
trial. Before Doss can be sentenced, his ­father, wearing his soldier’s uniform, inter-
rupts the tribunal with a letter confirming that his son’s decision not to carry a
gun is protected by the law. The charges are dropped, and Doss and Dorothy
proceed with their marriage. Soon thereafter Doss’s unit is assigned to the
H A C K S AW R I D G E 153

77th Infantry Division and deployed to the Pacific theater. During the ­Battle of Oki-
nawa, the 77th is ordered to relieve the 96th Infantry Division, whose mission is
to scale and secure the Maeda Escarpment (“Hacksaw Ridge”). Although many sol-
diers are killed during the b ­ attle, Doss is able to save some members of his unit.
­A fter a night spent in a foxhole with a fellow soldier, Smitty (Luke Bracey), Doss
and his unit face a Japanese counterattack. Smitty dies in the attack, and a number
of Doss’s fellow soldiers are left injured on the field. Doss comes up with a creative
solution for rescuing his injured squad mates: he carries them to the edge of a cliff
and lowers them to safety using a rope sling. Doss successfully saves dozens of
wounded soldiers. At dawn, Doss saves Howell, and the two somehow escape from
Hacksaw Ridge despite e­ nemy fire. Capt. Glover lauds Doss for his brave efforts and
confirms that the men w ­ ill not move forward to their next mission without him.
Doss sustains injuries from a grenade, but his unit wins their b­ attle, and Doss makes
it down the cliff with his Bible in hand. Archival footage confirms that Doss saved
75 soldiers at Hacksaw Ridge and was subsequently awarded the Medal of Honor
by Pres. Harry S. Truman (12 October 1945).

Reception
Hacksaw Ridge opened on 4 November 2016 and ran ­until 9 March 2017 (widest
release: 2,971 theaters). In ­those 18 weeks the movie grossed $67.2 million in North
Amer­i­ca and another $108.2 million in foreign markets, for a worldwide total of
$175.3 million against a production bud­get of $40 million. Reviews of Hacksaw
Ridge ­were overwhelmingly positive, though not without misgivings. Film critic
Richard Brody found its moral sobriety superior to the patriotic naiveté of Saving
Private Ryan but also detected troubling contradictions at its core: “When Steven
Spielberg depicted the gory horrors of war in Saving Private Ryan, its effect was to
assert that, in effect, we—­their descendants—­were the ­children of demigods, of
virtual superheroes who had been through Hell on Earth to keep us safe; the idea
meshes with his career-­long cinematic theme and tone of filial piety. Gibson shows
the same horrors with an irrepressible sense of excitement; with the best of inten-
tions, an overt revulsion at war, and the honoring of Doss’s actions, Gibson has
made a movie that’s nearly pathological in its love of vio­lence—­but he nonetheless
counterbalances its amoral pleasures with an understanding of the psychological
devastation that war wreaks” (Brody, 2016).

Reel History Versus Real History


Though Doss was nine years dead when Hacksaw Ridge was made, the filmmakers
respected his wishes regarding authenticity and made a movie that is mostly accu-
rate historically. With regard to Doss’s motivation to eschew vio­lence, screenwrit-
ers Robert Schenkkan, Randall Wallace (uncredited), and Andrew Knight made it
more personal than religious for wider audience appeal. Schenkkan and Knight
also took some liberties with the story of Doss’s courtship of Dorothy Schutte and,
for streamlining purposes, they omitted Doss’s prior combat ser­v ice in the B­ attle
of Guam (21 July–10 August 1944) and the ­Battle of Leyte Gulf (17 October–26
December  1944). The movie also gives the impression that Doss’s actions on
154 HAMBURGER HILL

Okinawa took place during one engagement, whereas Doss’s Medal of Honor cita-
tion describes his actions as taking place over three separate engagements over a
23-­day period (29 April, 2 May, and 21 May 1945).

HAMBURGER HILL (1987)

Synopsis
Written and co-­produced by James Carabatsos and directed by John Irvin, Ham-
burger Hill is an American war film about the siege of Ap Bia Mountain (aka “Hill
937” or “Hamburger Hill”) near the Laotian border in May  1969 by U.S. forces.
Though ultimately successful, the assault came at a high cost in American casualties,
and the conquered position was soon abandoned b ­ ecause it had no strategic value.

Background
At the height of the Vietnam War, 1,800 soldiers from the U.S. Army’s 3rd Bat-
talion, 187th Infantry Regiment (part of the 3rd Brigade, 101st Airborne Division)
conducted an assault on Dong Ap Bia: a 3,074-­foot-­high mountain situated a mile
east of the Laotian border in northwestern South Vietnam. Designated Hill 937,
Ap Bia was a heavi­ly fortified e­ nemy stronghold on steep, rugged, densely wooded
terrain, defended by two North Viet­nam­ese Army (NVA) battalions numbering at
least 1,000 men. What ensued was a grueling 11-­day siege (10–20 May 1969),
punctuated by torrential rains, that came to be known as the B ­ attle of Hamburger
Hill. The Americans took Hill 937 but not before expending 1,000 tons of bombs,
42 tons of napalm, and 19,000 artillery rounds—­and sustaining heavy casualties
(70 killed; 372 wounded). Confirmed ­enemy dead numbered 633. Just 16 days ­later
(5 June 1969) the U.S. Army abandoned Hill 937 b ­ ecause it held no strategic value:
a move that generated public outrage. Screenwriter James Carabatsos served in Viet-
nam in 1968–1969 but was not at Hamburger Hill (he was in a military police
platoon with the 1st Air Calvary Division at Quan Loi near the Cambodian bor-
der). Offended by films like Apocalypse Now that depicted U.S. soldiers in Vietnam
as deranged war criminals or renegades, Carabatsos set out to write a film script
that would highlight the extreme tenacity and valor exhibited by troops at Ham-
burger Hill as the best way to c­ ounter demeaning ste­reo­types and recuperate the
Vietnam-­era soldier’s reputation with the American public. To ensure authentic-
ity, Carabatsos spent years interviewing dozens of veterans who fought at Hill 937
as he developed his screenplay, which was completed in 1981. It would take Cara-
batsos and his co-­producer, Marcia Nasatir (The Big Chill), another five years to find
the financing that would bring his script to the screen. In the meantime British
director John Irvin agreed to direct the film; Irvin had been in Vietnam in 1969,
making a BBC documentary, so Carabatsos’s script resonated with him.

Production
Before securing a production deal with RKO Pictures in 1986, the filmmakers
hired Col. Joseph B. Covey, Jr. (U.S. Army, Retired), the ­actual commander of the
HAMBURGER HILL 155

3rd Brigade, 101st Airborne at Hamburger Hill, as the film’s technical advisor and


also submitted the script to the Pentagon for vetting. Army officials suggested a
series of changes for the sake of historical accuracy—­and to put the U.S. mili-
tary in a better light (e.g., less emphasis on soldiers patronizing prostitutes and a
more upbeat ending). The filmmakers agreed and won the Department of Defense’s
(DOD) full support: a three-­week training camp at Subic Bay Naval Base for the
actors (11 then-­unknowns), the use of Chinook C-47 he­li­cop­ters for six days, sim-
ulated airstrikes by F-4 Phantom jets, and 30 days’ availability of a UH-1 Huey
he­li­cop­ter (Suid, 2001, pp. 530–531). The 11-­week shoot took place on the island
of Luzon in the Philippines (October–­December 1986)—­but not before extensive
site preparation. A 1,800-­foot hill had to be dressed with 1,000 planted trees, five
off-­camera stairways ­were installed for access, and a large pool holding sanitized
mud was constructed to ensure the actors’ health (Devine, 1999, p. 267).

Plot Summary
Footage of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., plays during the
opening credit sequence. An opening prologue states: “On 10 May 1969 Troops of
the 101st Airborne Division engaged the e­ nemy at the base of Hill 937 in the A
Shau Valley. Ten days and eleven bloody assaults ­later, the troops who fought ­there
called it . . . ​H AMBURGER HILL.” The film proper begins with a platoon of sol-
diers in combat in Vietnam in 1969, and the sequence ends with a badly wounded
soldier ­dying on a he­li­cop­ter. A platoon from B Com­pany, 3rd Battalion, 187th Infan-
try receives five FNGs (“F—ing New Guys”) as replacements: Joseph Beletsky
(Tim Quill), who worries that he ­won’t remember every­thing he has been taught;
Vincent “Alphabet” Languilli (Anthony Barrile), a sex-­obsessed recruit annoyed
when p ­ eople mispronounce his last name; David Washburn (Don Cheadle), an
unassuming African American soldier; Martin Bienstock (Tommy Swerdlow), an
out­going volunteer; and Paul Galvan (Michael A. Nickles), the quiet­est but most
capable of the new soldiers. The recruits spend their first days “in country” filling
sand bags and receiving hygiene lessons before being placed in a squad commanded
by Sgt. Adam Frantz (Dylan McDermott), a seasoned combat veteran who provides
a crash course in combat skills. The platoon also has a new commander, Lt. Terry
Eden (Tegan West), sarcastically described by Platoon Sergeant Dennis Worcester
(Steven Weber) as “Palmolive f—ing soap.” The platoon’s machine-­gun team con-
sists of the brawny Pvt. Michael Duffy (Harry O’Reilly) and his small, bespecta-
cled companion, Pvt. Frank “Gaigs” Gaigin (Daniel O’Shea). T ­ here are also three
African American veterans in the unit: Ray Motown (Michael Boatman), Abraham
“Doc” Johnson (Courtney B. Vance), and Sgt. Elliott McDaniel (Don James), a “short-­
timer” with less than a month left on his tour of duty. The FNGs first experience
combat during an ­enemy mortar barrage. Frantz o­ rders return fire that ends the
attack, but several civilians are killed and one of the FNG’s, Paul Galvan, is
decapitated by shrapnel. Soon thereafter the troops are flown to A Shau Valley. A ­ fter
their arrival, the men are almost immediately fired upon and McDaniel is killed, a
casualty that “Doc” Johnson bitterly blames on Frantz. The battalion is ordered
to lead an assault on Hill 937 (aka “Hamburger Hill”), a position defended by a
156 HAMBURGER HILL

well-­entrenched e­ nemy. Between infantry assaults American warplanes drop


bombs, napalm, and white phosphorus, cratering the mountain and denuding it of
all its fo­liage. In one assault, Duffy leading the charge, comes close to breaking the
enemy lines but he is killed by misdirected “friendly fire” from Huey gunships.
During lulls in the fighting, members of the platoon discuss opposition to the war
back home. Day ­after day, the shrinking platoon continues its assault on Hill 937
but cannot take the hill. The 10th assault happens during heavy rains, turning the
hillside into a slippery sea of mud. Gaigin and “Doc” are shot dead, and Beletsky is
injured but returns to his unit anyway. An 11th and final assault is mounted, and
the remaining e­ nemy positions near the summit are overrun but casualties soar.
Murphy, Worcester, Motown, Bienstock, and Languilli are all killed and Lt. Eden is
seriously wounded. Stunned by the deaths of most of his friends and comrades, a
dazed Frantz is wounded during the ­battle. Beletsky pushes through his injuries
­towards the summit. Frantz also makes it to the summit and rests alongside Beletsky
and Washburn as b ­ attle draws to a close. The final image is of Beletsky’s haunted
face as he gazes at the utter devastation below. ­There is constant radio chatter, but
no one replies.

Reception
Released on 28 August 1987—10 months a­ fter Oliver Stone’s Platoon and just a
day ­after Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket ended its nine-­week U.S. theatrical
run—­Hamburger Hill ran for a month (widest release: 814 theaters), earning $13.8
million at the box office, a fraction of what other ­those other two Vietnam War
films earned. The movie’s modest commercial per­for­m ance was likely due to a
number of f­actors: its being overshadowed by its power­ful pre­de­ces­sors; its lack-
ing a famous director or big-­name stars; its unfashionable center-­right po­liti­cal ori-
entation; its restrained quasi-­documentary style (devoid of allegorical flourishes
or surrealism); and its bleak, brutally realistic depiction of unremitting combat end-
ing in a Pyrrhic victory a­ fter most of the film’s protagonists die. In his review for
the New York Times, Vincent Canby focused on the movie’s resolute refusal to
put the ­battle for Hill 937 in any larger context: “It could have been made a week
­after the conclusion of the operation it recalls, which is both its strength and weak-
ness, depending on how you look at it . . . ​The film leaves it up to the audience to
decide if the war was, from the start, disastrous and futile, or if it was sabotaged
by ­those same bleeding-­heart liberals who figure so prominently in the oeuvre of
Sylvester Stallone” (Canby, 28 August 1987). In his review Hal Hinson credited
Hamburger Hill for offering “a power­ful repre­sen­ta­tion of the fighting” from the
infantryman’s point of view, but Hinson also detected “hawkish, macho posturing”
in the scene where the soldiers discuss hostile attitudes ­toward them stateside and
in another scene where Frantz castigates a film crew (‘You h ­ aven’t earned the right
to be on this hill’).” In the end, Hinson expressed grudging re­spect for Hamburger
Hill: “It’s a violent movie, but it ­doesn’t have the self-­satisfied, aestheticized brutality
of Full Metal Jacket. ­There’s a purpose to it—­a sense of values. The prob­lem is that it’s
tough but not tough-­minded. If it had been it might have been ­great. Still, t­here’s a
kind of greatness in it. It takes a piece out of you” (Hinson, 1987).
H E AV E N K N O W S , M R .   A L L I S O N 157

Reel History Versus Real History


­Because it recounts an a­ ctual ­battle and was painstakingly researched and written
by a Vietnam veteran, Hamburger Hill achieves a high degree of historical accuracy.
Indeed, Hamburger Hill has been lauded by historians and other Vietnam veterans
as one of the most accurate movies ever made about the Vietnam War.

H E AV E N K N O W S , M R .   A L L I S O N ( 1 9 5 7 )

Synopsis
Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison is a war film that tells the story of two ­people—­a tough
U.S. Marine played by Robert Mitchum and a nun played by Deborah Kerr—­stuck
on a Japanese-­occupied island in the Pacific Ocean in the midst of World War II.
The movie was adapted by John Huston and John Lee Mahin from the novel by
Charles Shaw and directed by Huston.

Background
In 1952 an Australian writer named Charles Herbert Shaw (1890–1955) brought
out Heaven Knows, Mister Allison, a novel about a tough U.S. Marine and a gentle
Catholic nun stranded together on a remote island in the South Pacific during World
War II who form an improbable bond and ally themselves against Japa­nese occu-
pying forces. Producer Eugene Frenke optioned the film rights but let his option
lapse in 1953, whereupon John Wayne and Robert Fellows tried to buy the rights,
but failed. In 1954, 20th ­Century Fox acquired the property and initially hired
William Wyler to direct and Kirk Douglas to star. A few months l­ater, Wyler and
Douglas ­were replaced by Anthony Mann and Clark Gable. Ultimately John Hus-
ton was hired to direct. Though the book became an international bestseller, direc-
tor John Huston thought it “a very bad novel which exploited all the obvious
sexual implications,” but screenwriter John Lee Mahin persuaded Huston to change
his mind and make a film version (Huston, 1980, p. 260). Huston and Mahin
repaired to Ensenada, Mexico, in the spring of 1956 and, trading off scenes, wrote
a taut screen adaptation in five or six weeks that avoided prurience and sentimen-
tality. John Huston tried to interest Marlon Brando in the role of Cpl. Allison but
Brando vacillated, so it ultimately went to Robert Mitchum, with Deborah Kerr
signing on to play S­ ister Angela.

Production
On 1 August 1956 80 20th ­Century Fox crew members arrived on the island of
Tobago, a southern Ca­rib­bean locale off the coast of Venezuela chosen for two rea-
sons: it was, according to Huston, a “dead ringer for a South Seas island” and was
also a location where the com­pany could use blocked UK funds, receive British
film financing, and qualify for the Eady Levy (a British tax on box office receipts
used to support the film industry) (Robertson, p. 139). Native workers w ­ ere hired
to build a thatched-­roofed village, a small church, and an elevated filming plat-
form. The script called for a com­pany of Japa­nese troops occupying the island, but
158 H E AV E N K N O W S , M R .   A L L I S O N

then film was shot in Trinidad and Tobago, and ­there ­were no Japa­nese inhabit-
ants. The filmmakers located six ­people who spoke Japa­nese in an emigrant neigh-
borhood in Brazil and hired them to play the Japa­nese officers in the film. Fifty or
so Chinese blue-­collar workers living on the island ­were hired to play the remain-
ing Japa­nese troops, which angered the locals b ­ ecause their ser­v ice industry was
disrupted as a result. A
­ ctual filming occurred between September and November.

Plot Summary
In the South Pacific in 1944, U.S. Marine Corporal Allison (Robert Mitchum)
and his recon party are disembarking from a U.S. Navy submarine when they are
spotted and fired upon by the Japa­nese. The submarine goes into a dive, aban-
doning the scouts. Allison drifts across the ocean in a raft for days on end and
fi­n ally comes ashore upon an island. He comes across a desolate chapel, empty
save for a single occupant: S­ ister Angela (Deborah Kerr), a new nun who has not
taken her vows. S­ ister Angela arrived with a priest four days prior to Allison, with
the aim of rescuing a fellow clergyman. However, they found the Japa­nese inhab-
iting the island, and the natives abandoned ­Sister Angela and her priest compan-
ion, who soon died. Marine and nun spend time alone in their spot on the island,
but Japa­nese troops arrive to set up a camp, and the two newer inhabitants flee to
a nearby cave. As night falls, ­Sister Angela and Allison witness the flashes of naval
gunfire at sea. A smitten Mr. Allison declares his love for ­Sister Angela. Overcome,
she goes out into a heavy rainstorm and becomes sick. Allison carries her back to
the cave to recover, just as the Japa­nese soldiers return to the island. As he is
retrieving blankets from the Japa­nese camp to warm ­Sister Angela, Allison is dis-
covered and pursued by a Japa­nese soldier. The soldier finds the cave that Allison
and ­Sister Angela have been hiding in and forces the pair to decide between sur-
render or death by grenade. Just as they are trying to find a way out of their pre-
dicament, Americans begin to bomb the island in preparation to land. Allison
decides to do what he can to assist the American troops by disabling the Japa­nese
artillery while the soldiers lie in wait in their bunkers. He successfully sabotages
the Japa­nese weaponry and saves a number of American soldiers as a result. As the
pair are rescued, Allison and S­ ister Angela bid each other farewell. Allison lets his
love go, recognizing S­ ister Angela’s dedication to her faith.

Reception
Released on 13 March 1957, Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison made $4.2 million at the
box office; bud­geted at $2.9 million, it was a modest financial success. Deborah
Kerr’s per­for­mance as S­ ister Angela drew Oscar and Golden Globe nominations
and won her the New York Film Critics Circle Award for Best Actress. Robert Mit-
chum received a BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Actor. The screenplay by John
Lee Mahin and John Huston garnered Oscar and WGA Award nominations, and
Huston also earned a Directors Guild Award. Reviews ­were good. Bosley Crowther
pronounced Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison “a film that is stirring and entertaining,”
called the Tobago location “exciting” and “drenched with atmosphere,” and noted
that the cast “while small, [is] excellent” (Crowther, 1957).
H E L L I N T H E PA C I F I C 159

Reel History Versus Real History


In the novel Cpl. Allison comes to the island ­after escaping from the ­Battle of Cor-
regidor (May 1942). The film is set two years l­ ater, in 1944, when the United States
was clearly winning the Pacific war—­a time frame adjustment necessary to make
the Marine capture of the island a more credible event. The likelihood that a U.S.
Marine and a Catholic nun would end up sharing a remote island cave in the Pacific
is slim to none but makes for a compelling story. Almost as unlikely is Robert Mit-
chum’s age. He was 39 when he made the film. The average age of a U.S. Marine
in WWII was about 20, and many enlisted men w ­ ere in their teens.

H E L L I N T H E PA C I F I C ( 1 9 6 8 )

Synopsis
Hell in the Pacific is a World War II film directed by John Boorman about an Amer-
ican soldier (Lee Marvin) stranded on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean with a
Japa­nese soldier (Toshirô Mifune)—­two sworn enemies who ­battle each other but
must reach an accord in order to survive.

Background
­After collaborating on Point Blank (1967) a now-­esteemed neo-­noir, director John
Boorman and actor Lee Marvin teamed up for another film immediately thereafter:
Hell in the Pacific, an offbeat tour de force about two soldiers—­one American, the
other Japanese—­who fight out World War II in miniature on a deserted island. Hell
in the Pacific (successive working titles: “The E
­ nemy Is War,” “Two Soldiers—­East
and West,” and “The E ­ nemy”) derives from an original story by producer Reuben
Bercovitch, turned into a screenplay by Alexander Jacobs and Eric Bercovici. Japa­
nese dialogue was polished by Shinobu Hashimoto, who turned the script into a
scene-­chewing farce, a gambit that initially caused some major headaches for John
Boorman, who c­ ouldn’t get his Japa­nese co-­star Toshirô Mifune to play his role
“straight” and not for broad comic effect.

Production
Logistical prob­lems loomed large. The movie was shot on location on Koror and
other Palau islands in the isolated Caroline Islands of Micronesia, 950 miles due
east of the Philippines, in spring of 1968. Cast and film crew lived aboard a ship
and went to work on a Palau beach e­ very day in a tank landing craft. Palau is near
the equator, and the four-­month-­long shoot in 90-­degree heat and high humidity
was a trying experience for all involved.

Plot Summary
In 1944, a­ fter his plane is shot down at sea, an unnamed U.S. Marine pi­lot (Lee
Marvin) lands his rubber dinghy on a remote Pacific atoll, only to discover that it
is already occupied by a lone Japa­nese naval officer (Toshirô Mifune). ­After becom-
ing aware of each other’s presence on the island, the men engage in a fierce
160 H E L L I N T H E PA C I F I C

cat-­and-­mouse game. Eventually, the Japa­nese officer overpowers the American,


brings him back to his camp, and ties his arms in a yoke-­like harness. The Ameri-
can soon escapes, however, captures his lone e­ nemy in turn, and holds him captive.
Unhappy with the idea of taking a prisoner, he lets his ­enemy go, signaling a
truce. When the Japa­nese officer begins building a small raft, his American coun-
terpart gets past his skepticism and offers to help. A ­ fter the raft is finished, the
two set off for a collection of islands, eventually reaching land. They find the
island empty, but discover a bombed Japa­nese camp with supplies. The two sol-
diers get along amiably u ­ ntil the Japa­nese soldier sees images in an old Life maga-
zine that depict his p­ eople wounded, suffering, and dead. The two men then part
on unhappy terms. The original version of the film’s ending had Mifune’s charac-
ter kill two Japa­nese soldiers who stumble upon Marvin’s character and decapitate
him. The idea was eventually scrapped, and Boorman shot an ending in which
Marvin and Mifune drop their truce and return to fighting each other. Executive
producer Henry “Hank” G. Saperstein found Boorman’s ending anti-­climactic, so
devised a more decisive finale that practically ruined the picture: an explosion
(borrowed from another film) destroys the building and both soldiers are appar-
ently killed. Both versions survive.

Reception
Although it features only two characters, Hell in the Pacific ran up $7.35 million in
production costs due to its highly remote Pacific island shooting location and many
work interruptions due to bad weather and the obstreperous be­hav­ior of Toshirô
Mifune. Poor timing—­released at the height of the Vietnam War—­coupled with
the film’s unusual premise, lack of subtitles translating the Japa­nese, and equally
unsatisfying alternate endings severely limited its appeal; it earned only $1.33
million in North Amer­i­c a and $1.9 million abroad for a total of $3.23 million in
worldwide box office receipts: a net loss of $4.1 million, making it one of the big-
gest bombs in the short history of ABC films, which soon went bankrupt.

Reel History Versus Real History


Though the one-­on-­one war scenario Hell in the Pacific depicts is highly improbable,
if not altogether preposterous, the men who enacted it brought authenticity to their
roles. Both co-­stars, Toshirô Mifune and Lee Marvin, served in the armed forces
of their respective countries during World War II. Mifune saw no action—he was
a quartermaster in charge of issuing saké to kamikaze pilots—­but Marvin was a
much-­decorated Marine combat veteran (“I” Com­pany, 3rd Battalion, 24th Marines,
4th Marine Division). He had not been back to the Pacific since his war days 23 years
earlier and was forced to face some horrific memories; Marvin’s platoon was
ambushed on Saipan on 18 June 1944 and nearly wiped out, and Marvin was badly
wounded.
HOPE AND GLORY 161

H O P E A N D G L O RY ( 1 9 8 7 )

Synopsis
Hope and Glory is a British comedy/drama/war film written, produced, and directed
by John Boorman and based on his own boyhood experiences during World War
II’s London Blitz (the film’s title is derived from the traditional British patriotic song
“Land of Hope and Glory”).

Background
Forty years a­ fter World War II British director John Boorman (Deliverance) wrote
Hope and Glory, a coming-­of-­age script based on his own memories of ­family life
in Surrey and l­ater in Shepperton (both London suburbs), from the ages of six to
nine (1939 to 1942), a period punctuated by The Blitz (7 September  1940–­
10  May  1941). Proposing an unconventional WWII film, Boorman had trou­ble
attracting Hollywood financing. He raised part of the bud­get by pre-­selling
Eu­ro­pean rights to some 20 distributors before securing principal backing
from Embassy Home Entertainment and Columbia Pictures, companies owned
by Coca-­Cola but sold to De Laurentiis Entertainment Group and Nelson Enter-
tainment during pre-­production—­a bumpy transition that nearly derailed the
proj­ect. Initially visualized as a $10 million movie, Hope and Glory had its studio
bud­get trimmed to $7.5 million. Consequently Boorman was forced to defer his
own fees as writer, producer, and director; cut salaries; and scale back the scope of
the film, for example, eliminating black and white sequences depicting Billy Rohan’s
fantasies about the war (Hoyle, 2012, pp. 151–161).

Production
Hope and Glory was filmed at vari­ous locations in the Greater London area over 55
shooting days (4 August–21 October 1986). For the film’s main set, crews u ­ nder
the direction of Boorman’s production designer Tony Pratt built a 200-­yard-­long
replica of Rosehill Ave­nue, Carshalton (Surrey), on the disused runway at the for-
mer Wisley Airfield, also in Surrey (10 miles southwest of the center of London).
The faux street—­constructed at a cost of £750,000—­featured the facades of six
pairs of facing semi-­detached h ­ ouses built on scaffolding, supplemented by cut-­
outs of more h­ ouses and of the London skyline in the distance. The h ­ ouse where
the Rohans lived was fully built of brick and wood ­because it had to be burned
down. The small backyard gardens typical of semi-­detached row ­houses ­were also
constructed, as w­ ere ruins of bombed buildings. The entire set covered 50 acres,
making it the largest movie set built in the UK since the early 1960s. Queen’s Manor
Primary School, Lysia Street, Fulham (London), served as Billy’s school, and The
Vine Inn, Hillingdon Hill, in Uxbridge was used as the setting for Billy’s f­ather’s
enlistment site. Other scenes by the river w ­ ere shot near Shepperton Lock.

Plot Summary
A black and white newsreel announces the start of the war, but six-­year-­old Billy
Rohan (Sebastian Rice Edwards) prefers Hopalong Cassidy Westerns. In a voice-­over
162 HOPE AND GLORY

(by Boorman himself) the adult Bill Rowan remembers playing in the f­amily gar-
den when war was declared (3 September 1939). Billy’s ­father, Clive (David Hay-
man), immediately enlists, but is assigned a desk job due to his age. Left at home
is Billy’s m
­ other, Grace (Sarah Miles); Billy; and his two s­ isters: Dawn (Sammi Davis)
and Sue (Geraldine Muir). For their safety, Billy’s m ­ other decides to send Billy and
Sue (ten and six years old, respectively) to live with an aunt in Australia, but at the
last minute she cannot bring herself to put them on the boat train. Mac (Derrick
O’Connor), Billy’s ­father’s best friend (and a former beau of Billy’s m ­ other), spends
a lot of time at the Rohans’ ­house a­ fter his own wife, Molly (Susan Wooldridge),
runs off with a Polish aviator. With their own spouses out of the picture, Grace
and Mac begin to fall in love again but do not act on their feelings. Meanwhile,
Dawn (a teenager) sneaks out of the ­house at night for trysts with Cpl. Bruce Car-
rey (Jean-­Marc Barr), a Canadian soldier, and soon finds herself pregnant. For his
part, Billy joins other boys his age happily playing in and around bombed-­out
buildings. One day, though, while Mac and the Rohans are at the seaside, their
­house burns down (from an ordinary fire, not the result of a bomb blast), forcing
them to go live with Grace’s curmudgeonly ­father, George (Ian Bannen), in his bun-
galow on the River Thames. Billy enjoys a halcyon summer ­there. Madly in love
with Dawn, Bruce goes absent without leave (AWOL) to marry her, but is arrested
by the military police right ­after the wedding. Soon thereafter, Dawn gives birth
to their child. At the end of the summer Billy has to return to his old school in
suburban London but joyfully discovers that it has been destroyed by a stray Nazi
bomb. Billy shouts, “Thank you, Adolf!” In voice-­over the adult Bill recalls, “In all
my life, nothing ever quite matched the perfect joy of that moment. My school lay
in ruins and the river beckoned with the promise of stolen days.”

Reception
Hope and Glory had its premiere on 21 August 1987 at the Montreal Film Festival.
In the weeks following the film’s UK premiere (3 September 1987: the 48th anni-
versary of the United Kingdom’s entry into World War II), it was screened at film
festivals in Spain, Japan, and Italy. On 17 September 1987, three weeks before Hope
and Glory was scheduled to premiere in the United States at the New York Film
Festival, Columbia CEO David Puttnam was forced to resign. Puttnam had been
a strong supporter of the movie so his departure adversely affected the U.S. roll-
out, which was anemic at best. Columbia opened Hope and Glory at two theaters
in New York City on 16 October 1987 and gradually expanded into a modest 100
theaters by December, but stinted on promotion and advertising (e.g., it ran no TV
ads). To make ­matters worse, Columbia then had a dispute with one of its major
distributors and the film was pulled from circulation before Christmas—­except
for a single theater in Greenwich Village. Luckily Columbia’s new CEO, Dawn Steel,
liked Hope and Glory and soon revived its fortunes. Just before the 1988 Oscar
nominations ­were announced, the movie was re-­released in the United States. Dur-
ing its second run (5 February–14 April  1988; widest release: 328 theaters), it
grossed a respectable $9.7 million at the box office for a total of $10 million (inter-
national box office totals are unknown, but reports indicate that the film had brisk
HURT LOCKER, THE 163

box office returns in the UK). Commercially successful a­ fter a slow start, Hope and
Glory was honored with numerous film awards. T ­ hese included 13 BAFTA nomi-
nations and 7 wins (for Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Susan Wooldridge; Best
Actor in a Supporting Role: Ian Bannen; Best Actress: Sarah Miles; Best Cinema-
tography: Philippe Rousselot; Best Costume Design: Shirley Russell; Best Direc-
tion: John Boorman; Best Editing: Ian Crafford); 5 Oscar nominations; and 3 Golden
Globe nominations and 1 win (Best Motion Picture—­Comedy or Musical). Reviews
­were uniformly strong.

Reel History Versus Real History


Like his fictional counterpart, Billy Rohan, John Boorman lived through The Blitz as
a small boy (the Rohans are a thinly disguised version of his own f­ amily). Intimately
familiar with life in suburban London during the war—­his own experience, the
look of the streets, the fashions, the mores, the routine war mea­sures (e.g., food
rationing, barrage balloons, air raid shelters, the effects of the bombings, etc.)—­
Boorman created a historically au­then­tic movie that resonated deeply with Britons
who had lived through that era. He also created a refreshingly revisionist narrative
that ran ­counter to Britain’s monolithic official history of World War II as a righ­
teous strug­gle against fascism, marked by resolute national fortitude and sacrifice.
As historian Geoff Eley astutely notes, “While deromanticizing the ­grand story of
‘the ­people’s war’ (‘according to folk memory . . . ​our last ­great collective achieve-
ment as a nation’), [Hope and Glory] also deploys a dif­fer­ent kind of romance, namely,
the private story of a young boy’s entry into experience, the opening of his expanded
horizons, via the interruption of ordinary life’s rhythms and repetitions. The film
tells this story by deliberately distancing the public script of the just and anti-­fascist
war, b ­ ecause for most ordinary experience (it implies), this was beside the point”
(Eley, 2001, p. 827).

HURT LOCKER, THE (2008)

Synopsis
The Hurt Locker is an American war film written by Mark Boal; directed by
Kathryn Bigelow; and starring Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty,
Christian Camargo, Ralph Fiennes, David Morse, and Guy Pearce. The film fol-
lows the exploits of an EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team charged with
finding and neutralizing IEDs (improvised explosive devices), that is, bombs,
during the Iraq War.

Background
In December 2004, ­after navigating a sea of Department of Defense (DOD) red
tape, freelance journalist Mark Boal spent two weeks embedded with the 788th Ord-
nance Com­pany, a U.S. Army EOD disposal unit based at Camp Victory in
Baghdad, Iraq. During that brief period Boal accompanied Staff Sergeant Jeffrey S.
Sarver and his two-­m an team to watch them do the incredibly dangerous job of
164 HURT LOCKER, THE

finding and disarming IEDs planted by Iraqi insurgents. Boal subsequently


published an article on the experience—­“The Man in the Bomb Suit” (Playboy, Sep-
tember 2005)—­and then worked with film director Kathryn Bigelow to make a
fiction film based on the events he had witnessed. Boal and Bigelow collaborated
on a script, originally titled “The Something Jacket,” and sought $20 million in
financing, but none of the major Hollywood studios w ­ ere interested in a movie
about an unpop­u­lar war. Instead, in the summer of 2006, they signed a $13 million
deal with Nicholas Chartier’s Voltage Pictures, an in­de­pen­dent production
com­pany. Bigelow then went about assembling a cast, hiring a few “name” actors
(Ralph Fiennes, David Morse, Evangeline Lilly, and Guy Pearce) but mostly cast-
ing unknowns so as not to distract viewers with famous ­faces and dilute verisi-
militude. Jeremy Renner, cast in the film’s lead role as Sgt. W
­ ill James, researched
his part by spending time with an EOD team at Fort Irwin National Training
Center in California. As for location, filming in Baghdad was simply too danger-
ous, so Amman, Jordan, was selected as its substitute. Production ran into a major
snag when the Jordanians would not clear the detonation equipment and supplies
needed by special effects supervisor Richard Stutsman. Just before the shoot was
scheduled to begin, Bigelow was able to get a customs official to authorize release
of most of the materials.

Production
Principal photography on The Hurt Locker took place in Amman, Jordan, over
44 days between late July and early September 2007. For cast and crew, discomfort
reigned; t­ here w
­ ere no air-­conditioned trailers or private bathrooms during a mid-­
summer shoot that saw temperatures often reach 120° F. Anxious to put viewers
into the thick of the action Bigelow and her British director of photography, Barry
Ackroyd (United 93), employed an intensified sort of cinema vérité style that fea-
tured lots of subjective camera, reaction shots, tight framing, slow motion, and rapid
switching between points of view. T ­ hese effects w­ ere made pos­si­ble by using a
high-­speed Phantom HD camera and up to four handheld Super 16-mm Aaton
XTR-­Prods to shoot the action from multiple ­angles si­mul­ta­neously: a technique
that produced over 200 hours of raw footage, edited by Chris Innis and Bob
Murawski over an eight-­month period down to 131 minutes (a 92:1 shooting ratio).
The film’s final firefight was filmed in a Palestinian refugee camp that the film-
makers ­were told was off limits as too dangerous, but Bigelow persisted and was
given permission to shoot ­there.

Plot Summary
The film opens with an on-­screen quotation from War Is a Force That Gives Us Mean-
ing, a best-­selling 2002 book by Chris Hedges, a New York Times war correspon-
dent and journalist: “The rush of ­battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for
war is a drug.” In the opening scene, in Baghdad during the Iraq War, a bomb-­
handling Talon robot breaks down, forcing Staff Sergeant Matthew Thompson (Guy
Pearce) to get close to an IED when it is remotely detonated by cell phone, killing
him. Sergeant First Class William “­Will” James (Jeremy Renner), a former U.S.
HURT LOCKER, THE 165

Anthony Mackie (left) and Jeremy Renner play U.S. Army bomb disposal specialists
during the Iraq War in Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker (2008). (Summit
Entertainment/­Photofest)

Army Ranger, arrives to replace Sgt. Thompson as the team leader of a U.S. Army
EOD unit. James’ team includes Sergeant J. T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Spe-
cialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty). James’ unorthodox bomb disposal meth-
ods are judged reckless by Sanborn and Eldridge, and tensions mount. Meanwhile,
James takes a liking to an Iraqi youth nicknamed “Beckham” (Christopher Sayegh),
who tries to sell him DVDs. When they are assigned a detonation job, Sanborn
thinks about murdering James by “accidentally” causing an explosion before the
team is ready, and upon hearing this thought pro­cess, Eldridge is put on edge. En
route to their camp, the soldiers come face to face with five gun-­toting men wear-
ing traditional Arab clothing who have gotten a flat tire. James’ squad has an
anxiety-­r idden conversation with their leader (Ralph Fiennes), who then admits
that he and his men are private contractors and British mercenaries. They also boast
about having captured men pictured on the most sought-­after Iraqi baseball cards.
All involved in the encounter are suddenly fired upon, and while the prisoners try
to escape, the mercenary leader recalls that the bounty on their heads reads “dead
or alive,” leading him to shoot the captives. Sanborn and James procure a borrowed
Barrett M82 .50-­caliber ­r ifle and shoot down three attackers, leaving Eldridge to
shoot a fourth. L­ ater that week, during a routine ware­house sweep, James discovers
the body of a young boy—­whom James identifies as Beckham—in which a live
bomb has been surgically implanted. During evacuation, Lt. Col. John Cambridge
(Christian Camargo), the camp’s kindly psychiatrist and a friend of Eldridge’s, dies
166 HURT LOCKER, THE

when an IED explodes. Eldridge takes on the blame for this loss. James is then
ordered to take care of a gas tanker denotation and decides to look for the respon-
sible party, assuming that they are still close at hand. Sanborn objects, but when
James leaves, he and Eldridge reluctantly follow. Iraqi insurgents end up catching
Eldridge and taking him prisoner, but James and Sanborn save his life. The next
day, Beckham walks up to James, seemingly alive, and passes by silently. Eldridge
blames James for his wounds. Sanborn and James’ team is commanded forth on
another mission, right at the final two days of their rotation. They arrive as instructed
to find a peaceful, Iraqi civilian with a suicide bomb taped to his chest. James
attempts to remove the bomb, but the man’s vest has too many locks and, with
time r­ unning out, James is forced to abandon the man to certain death. The bomb
detonates. Distraught by the man’s death, Sanborn tells James that he wants to go
home. ­A fter Bravo Com­pany’s rotation ends, James returns home to his ex-­w ife
Connie (Evangeline Lilly) and their infant son (they still live with him) but James
quickly tires of suburban life. One night, James tells his small child that ­there is
only a single t­hing that he can be sure that he loves. Soon a­ fter, James begins a
new tour with a 365-­day rotation.

Reception
The Hurt Locker was first screened at the Venice Film Festival on 4 September 2008.
The movie was then shown at 10 other American and international film festivals
over the next 10 months before its domestic wide release on 26 June 2009. The
Hurt Locker proved to be a solid box office hit, earning $17 million in North Amer­i­ca
and another $32.2 million in foreign markets, for a total gross of $49.2 million—­
more than four times its production bud­get. The movie also won a slew of awards,
including nine Acad­emy Award nominations and six Oscars: for Best Picture
(Kathryn Bigelow, Mark Boal, Nicolas Chartier, and Greg Shapiro); Best Director
(Kathryn Bigelow, the first ­woman to win an Oscar in this category); Best Writing,
Original Screenplay (Mark Boal); Best Editing (Bob Murawski and Chris Innis);
Best Sound Mixing (Paul N. J. Ottosson and Ray Beckett); and Best Sound Editing
(Paul N. J. Ottosson). Not surprisingly, reviews w ­ ere almost universally adulatory.
Roger Ebert gave it four out of four stars and wrote, “The Hurt Locker is a ­great film,
an intelligent film, a film shot clearly so that we know exactly who every­body is and
where they are and what t­ hey’re d ­ oing and why. The camera work is at the ser­v ice
of the story. Bigelow knows that you ­can’t build suspense with shots lasting one or
two seconds. And you ­can’t tell a story that way, ­either—­not one that deals with
the mystery of why a man like James seems to depend on risking his life” (Ebert,
8 July 2009). Mick LaSalle wrote, “The Hurt Locker has a fullness of understanding
that sets it apart. On the day of its release, this one enters the pantheon of ­great
American war films—­and puts Kathryn Bigelow into the top tier of American
directors” (LaSalle, 2009). Whereas the vast majority of film critics hailed the
movie’s technical virtuosity and lauded its apo­liti­cal emphasis on the soldier’s-­eye
view of the Iraq War, a few critics on the Left found ­these tendencies ideologically
suspect. In her review, Tara McElvey noted that “The Hurt Locker sets itself up as an
anti-­war film” but ­really functions as pro-­war propaganda ­because it makes war
HURT LOCKER, THE 167

an unbearably exciting and meaningful existentialist enterprise compared to


“the tedium of American life, with its grocery-­shopping, home repairs, and vapid
consumerism . . . ​For all the graphic vio­lence, bloody explosions and, literally,
­human butchery that is shown in the film, The Hurt Locker is one of the most effec-
tive recruiting vehicles for the U.S. Army that I have seen” (McElvey, 2009).

Reel History Versus Real History


Though it seems a convincing depiction of an EOD squad’s activities during the Sec-
ond Iraq War, veterans found the film rife with exaggerations and inaccuracies. In
an interview with James Clark for Task & Purpose, a news website for veterans, Kol-
lin Knight, an Af­ghan­i­stan War veteran and former EOD technician, detailed a
list of the film’s misrepre­sen­ta­tions, starting with a key scene where Sgt. ­Will
James uncovers six 155-mm artillery shells wired together into a massive IED.
Knight: “And he just lifts up six of them, all daisy-­chained together for no good
purpose . . . ​You’d never do that by hand, it’s amazing that he did . . . ​How the f—
is one arm that strong to just pick up all of ­these 155s?” Knight went on to note
that each shell can weigh between 70 and 100 pounds. Though it makes for grip-
ping cinema, Knight avers that a real EOD tech would never do what James did:
“You d ­ on’t know what y­ ou’re d­ oing, what’s in t­here, which is why you d­ on’t just
pick s— up by hand and toss it around. Which is why we stress using robots and
­doing ­things remotely and slowly and cautiously, instead of just ‘Oh s—, I just found
a bunch of them, I’m gonna pick them all up.’ ” By the same token, Knight finds
the film’s daredevil cowboy characterization of ­Will James patently absurd: “For
the s— that he does he could easily lose his certification, end up in prison, or get
completely removed from EOD. Realistically it w ­ ouldn’t happen. He would not
exist.” Knight also found fault with James’ nocturnal pursuit of the Iraqi professor:
“Nobody does this. It simply d ­ oesn’t happen. It makes no sense, and anyone who’s
ever served in a post-9/11 warzone prob­ably reacted to that scene the same way:
What the f—?” (Clark, 2016).
I
ICE COLD IN ALEX (1958)

Synopsis
Ice Cold in Alex is a British war film directed by J. Lee Thompson and starring John
Mills and Anthony Quayle. Based on a 1957 novel of the same title by British Des-
ert War veteran Christopher Landon, the film follows the perilous journey of a Brit-
ish military ambulance from eastern Libya to Alexandria, Egypt, ­after the fall of
Tobruk to Rommel’s Afrika Korps in May 1942.

Background
En­glishman Christopher Guy Landon (1911–1961) served with the 51st  Field
Ambulance and the 1st South African Division in North Africa during the Second
World War. ­After the war Landon became a novelist specializing in noir thrillers.
“Escape in the Desert,” a fictional story grounded in his war experiences, was seri-
alized in six consecutive issues of The Saturday Eve­ning Post (21 July–5 August 1956)
and then expanded into his fourth novel, entitled Ice Cold in Alex (Heinemann,
1957). Associated British Picture Corporation (ABPC) secured the film rights, then
hired Landon to work with staff screenwriter T. J. Morrison and script supervisor
Walter Mycroft to adapt the novel to the screen, a pro­cess that coincided with Land-
on’s turning his scenario into a full-­length novel—­though novel and script differ
markedly. W. A. Whitaker was brought in to produce and J. Lee Thompson (The
Dam Busters; Guns of Navarone) to direct. Initially the proj­ect had the support of
the British military, but once it became apparent that the film would have ­little
recruiting value, support evaporated.

Production
Ice Cold in Alex was shot mostly in Libya over a two-­month period in the fall of
1957; Egypt was ruled out b ­ ecause of the recent Suez Crisis. The shoot in Libya
was a difficult one, with cast and crew being plagued by weeks of temperatures
exceeding 100°, windblown sand, and swarms of flies that w ­ ere fought off with
DDT, a pesticide now banned as toxic to ­humans. The quicksand scene was actu-
ally filmed in an ice-­cold artificial bog at Elstree Studios in London—­a grueling
experience for Quayle and Mills. The brief love scene between Diana Murdoch and
Anson t­ oward the end of the film was originally eight minutes longer and far steam-
ier but was largely excised, per order of the British Board of Film Censors. The
famous bar scene in Alexandria at the end of the film, shot at Elstree just before
Christmas 1957, required John Mills to drink real beer ­because ginger ale and other
ICE COLD IN ALEX 169

substitutes d
­ idn’t look au­then­tic on film. By the 14th and final take, Mills was actu-
ally quite inebriated and had to go to his trailer and sleep it off. The film’s last
scene, outside the bar, was shot in the “Maidan Djzair” (Algeria Square) in Tripoli,
Libya.

Plot Summary
Capt. Anson (John Mills) is an officer commanding a British Royal Army Ser­v ice
Corps (RASC) motor ambulance com­pany in the Western Desert Campaign
during World War II. When it becomes obvious that Tobruk is about to fall to
Rommel’s Afrika Korps, Anson and most of his unit are ordered to evacuate to Alex-
andria, hundreds of miles to the east. Joining Anson, who is suffering from exhaus-
tion, b­ attle fatigue, and alcoholism, are Sgt. Major Tom Pugh (Harry Andrews) and
two young nurses: Diana Murdoch (Sylvia Syms) and a very panicky Denise Norton
(Diane Clare), who initially has to be restrained and sedated. The vehicle they drive
across the desert back to British lines is a worn-­out Austin K2/Y ambulance, nick-
named “Katy.” Anson loses his liquor supply at the outset; it is in the DDMS Briga-
dier’s (Liam Redmond) command vehicle, which takes a direct hit from a German
artillery shell, killing the brigadier and his staff officer (Allan Cuthbertson). When
the group stops at a refueling station they come across Capt. van der Poel (Anthony
Quayle), a tall and muscular Afrikaner South African Army officer carry­ing a large
backpack. A ­ fter van der Poel shows Anson three b ­ ottles of high-­quality gin, Anson
lets him join them. The journey proves to be extremely challenging. They have to
leave the main road ­after a bridge is blown and are forced to traverse a minefield,
with Anson and van der Poel tensely walking ahead of Katy to ferret out mines. As
soon as they cross safely, they encounter an Afrika Korps detachment. Anson, who
is now driving and slightly drunk, decides to try to outrun the Germans. The Ger-
mans open fire—­mortally wounding nurse Norton—­and soon catch up to Katy.
Van der Poel, who claims to have learned German while working in Southwest
Africa, is able to parlay with the e­ nemy, who inspect their vehicle and let them go.
­L ater, when Anson is informed that Norton has died, he is filled with remorse and
admits that he’s a drunk; still, he motivates himself by telling Diana Murdoch that
he w­ ill buy them all ice cold lagers when they fi­nally reach the safety of Alexan-
dria (the “Alex” of the title). ­After a night’s stopover, they fashion a makeshift grave
marker and bury Denise Norton in the desert. Just then a German light tank loaded
with infantry approaches. The Germans disarm them, inform them that Tobruk
has fallen, and let them go a­ fter their officer converses with van der Poel and inspects
his knapsack. Low on w ­ ater, they confer. Anson suggests they travel southeast, cut-
ting straight through the Qattara Depression in northwestern Egypt—­a ­giant
sinkhole 190 miles long that lies below sea level and is covered with salt pans,
sand dunes, and salt marshes. Fearing Katy w ­ ill sink in the mire, Pugh and van
der Poel overrule Anson so they start out on a more circuitous route. Soon one
of Katy’s rear springs breaks. During its replacement, van der Poel’s g­ reat strength
saves the group when he briefly supports Katy (which weighs two tons) on his back
when the jack collapses, averting damage that would have rendered the ambulance
useless. Just then an Allied plane passes over and drops a message, informing them
170 ICE COLD IN ALEX

that the Germans have advanced east along the coast road, all the way to El Daba,
100 miles west of Alexandria. They w ­ ill be intercepted and captured if they con-
tinue on their pres­ent course, so they decide to go through the Qattara Depression
­after all. Pugh, already troubled by van der Poel’s lack of knowledge of South Afri-
can Army customs, covertly follows him when he leaves the group and heads off
into the desert with his pack and a spade (supposedly to dig a latrine). Pugh reports
that he thinks he saw a radio antenna, but Anson cautions them against confront-
ing van der Poel just yet. They drive on and soon arrive at Siwa Oasis, where they
meet a British Long Range Desert Group (LRDG) officer (Peter Arne) disguised as
an Egyptian tribesman, who arranges to supply them with ­water and petrol. They
start driving through the Qattara Depression the next morning but have to pause
when Katy begins to overheat and Anson faints from thirst and exhaustion. L ­ ater,
at night, they decide to use the ambulance headlights to see what Van de Poel is
­really up to when he goes off with his spade and knapsack. Trying to evade the
light, van der Poel steps into quicksand and starts to go u ­ nder but he has the pres-
ence of mind to push his pack into the ooze—­though not before the o­ thers see
that it contains a radio set. They manage to save van der Poel by dragging him out
with a cable attached to Katy. Afterwards, Anson deliberately throws van der Poel’s
South African Army uniform shirt into the quicksand—­a move that puzzles Diana.
The ­others now realize that van der Poel is a Nazi spy but they decide not to con-
front him. The next night, Diana seduces Anson. During the final leg of the jour-
ney Katy and her crew face a steep, sandy escarpment as they try to exit the Qattara
Depression. The men take turns laboriously rotating Katy’s starter hand crank in
reverse in order to inch her up the slippery gradient. Almost near the top, Katy
slips out of gear and descends the slope again, and the grueling, Sisyphean pro­
cess must be repeated. This time, Van der Poel’s superior strength is again crucial
to achieving success. When they fi­nally reach Alexandria they repair to Anson’s
favorite bar, where he ­orders his coveted cold beer. Before they have all finished
their first round, a Corps of Military Police (CMP) lieutenant (Basil Hoskins) arrives
to arrest Van der Poel. Anson, who had prearranged the arrest with a CMP check-
point officer (Michael Nightingale) as they entered the city, ­orders him to wait ­until
the appointed time. Anson shows his gratitude to Van der Poel by offering him a
deal: if he tells Anson his name, then Anson ­w ill ensure that he is labeled as a
prisoner of war (POW) rather than a spy, thus escaping execution. Van der Poel
admits that his name is Hauptmann Otto Lutz and that he is an engineering offi-
cer with the 21st Panzer Division. Pugh removes Lutz’s fake dog tags to keep him
safe from the military police. Lutz finishes his beer, shakes hands all around, and
declares that they w ­ ere “all against the desert, the greater ­enemy. I’ve learned a lot
about the En­glish, so dif­fer­ent than what I’ve been taught.” He bids his erstwhile
comrades “Auf Wiedersehen” before being driven away into captivity.

Reception
Ice Cold in Alex premiered in London on 24 June 1958 to decent box office and
good reviews (e.g., the reviewer for The London Times called it “a realistic study of
­human resolution in the face of mounting adversities”). Entered into competition
IN WHICH WE SERVE 171

at the 8th  Annual Berlin Film Festival shortly thereafter, the movie won the
FIPRESCI Award, sharing it with Ingmar Bergman’s Smultronstället (Wild Strawber-
ries). It also received a Golden Bear nomination at the 1958 Berlin Film Festival
and three BAFTA nominations in 1959. Ice Cold in Alex was not released in the
United States u ­ ntil 22 March 1961—­unfortunately, ­under the misleading title,
Desert Attack, and in a radically truncated version (54 minutes shorter) that made
it an unwatchable travesty of the original movie.

Reel History Versus Real History


Like his fictional counter­parts, Anson and Pugh, author Christopher Landon was a
British ambulance officer in North Africa, well familiar with Austin K2/Ys and the
rigors of life in the North African desert, fighting Rommel’s Afrika Korps: intimate
knowledge that lent the novel and film authenticity. Nolan’s original story and novel
are pure fiction, but, according to Sue Harper and Vincent Porter, Nolan based
Sgt. Major Pugh on a longtime friend and made him the novel’s central protagonist
­father figure to Anson and the love interest of S­ ister Murdoch (Harper and Porter,
2007, p. 88). The movie makes Anson its protagonist and Diana Murdoch his love
interest. The film also elides most of the backstories of the four principal characters
that are provided in the novel, and both book and film contain some far-­fetched
thriller ele­ments. One feature hard to credit is the notion that a German spy would
attach himself to a solitary ambulance in retreat and radio back constant reports to
headquarters. Highly implausible from a physics standpoint is the scene showing
Katy being inched up a steep sand hill by hand cranking its starter gear in reverse
­after disconnecting the spark plugs. The technique could actually work on hard,
level ground but the steep gradient (perhaps 20 to 25 degrees), deep sand, and the
sheer weight of the ambulance (actually three tons, not two, as mentioned in the
film) would abet gravity in rendering the task physically impossible.

IN WHICH WE SERVE (1942)

Synopsis
In Which We Serve is a British war film written by Noël Coward and directed by
Coward and David Lean. A patriotic propaganda film made during the Second
World War with the full backing of the Ministry of Information, In Which We Serve
is a fictionalized recounting of the exploits of Lord Louis Mountbatten, commander
of the destroyer HMS Kelly, which was sunk during the B ­ attle of Crete (May 1941).
Coward composed the film’s musical score and also starred as the ship’s captain.

Background
During World War II Lord Louis “Dickie” Mountbatten (1900–1979), the second
cousin, once removed, of Queen Elizabeth II, commanded the British Royal Navy’s
5th Destroyer Flotilla aboard his flagship, HMS Kelly. A K-­class destroyer (1,695
tons) commissioned on 23 August 1939, Kelly’s ill-­fated time in ser­v ice lasted only
one year and nine months. On 23 May 1941, during the B ­ attle of Crete, the ship
172 IN WHICH WE SERVE

was bombed and sunk by German Stuka dive-­bombers. Out of a crew of 240 men,
81 lost their lives. Capt. Mountbatten and 158 other crew members survived. Back
in London six weeks ­later (3 July 1941) Mountbatten regaled his friend, the famed
playwright Noël Coward, with the tragic story of Kelly’s sinking. Coward was deeply
moved by Mountbatten’s account, which he found “absolutely heart-­breaking and
so magnificent” (Coward, 2000, pp. 7–9). Days l­ater Coward was approached by
film producer Anthony Havelock-­Allan of Two Cities Films. The com­pany’s founder,
Filippo Del Giudice, a fervent anti-­Fascist, wanted to make a propaganda film to
support the British war effort and needed a well-­known writer to pen the screen-
play. Coward took on the assignment with the proviso that it be “a naval propa-
ganda film” based on the Kelly saga, that he star in the film, and that he be given
complete creative control. Coward, being a man of the theater, knew nothing about
filmmaking so, at the suggestion of Carol Reed, he took on young David Lean as
his co-­director and hired Ronald Neame as his cinematographer. In the latter
months of 1941 Coward wrote an overlong, rambling screenplay (working title:
“White Ensign”) that was deemed unfilmable. Lean, Neame, and Havelock-­Allan
worked with Coward to revise the script (uncredited), with Lean suggesting they
use a flashback structure for purposes of narrative economy. Mountbatten, who
remained involved with the production throughout, also advised Coward to tone
down his depiction of Kinross as a wealthy landed aristocrat—­a figure too obvi-
ously suggestive of Mountbatten himself.

Production
Shooting of In Which We Serve began on 5 February 1942 at Denham Film Studios,
10 miles northwest of London. Other locations included the naval dockyard at
Plymouth (opening scene), Dunstable Downs in Bedfordshire (for a picnic scene),
and Smeaton’s Tower on the Plymouth Hoe seafront (for the shore leave scenes
between Shorty Blake and his wife Freda). HMAS Nepal, an N-­class Royal Austra-
lian destroyer based at Scapa Flow, “played” HMS Torrin. Though they w ­ ere offi-
cially “co-­directors,” Noël Coward let David Lean take charge of the production
while he focused on his own role as Capt. Kinross. A ­ fter six weeks on the set, Noël
Coward became bored with the mechanics of filmmaking and let Lean fully assume
the directorial duties. Thereafter Coward came to the studio only when scenes in
which he appeared w ­ ere being filmed. At one point Mountbatten and Coward
invited the royal f­amily to the set. Their visit, reported in newsreels, lent the film
valuable advance publicity. ­A fter five months of filming, principal photography
ended on 27 June 1942.

Plot Summary
The film opens with a line of narration by Leslie Howard (uncredited), “This is the
story of a ship,” followed by footage of shipbuilding in a British dockyard. A title
card reads “CRETE May 23rd 1941.” HMS Torrin and other British destroyers fire on
and sink German transports in a nighttime engagement during the B ­ attle of Crete.
The next morning Torrin comes u ­ nder heavy attack by a flight of German Junkers
88 twin-­engine bombers. ­After the ship takes two direct hits, it begins to sink
IN WHICH WE SERVE 173

rapidly, and Capt. Edward Kinross (Noël Coward) o­ rders his crew to abandon
ship. A group of sailors and their commanding officers find a life raft just as sur-
vivors are fired upon by German planes. The narrative moves to a series of flash-
backs of the men who have made it to the raft. It begins with Capt. Kinross, who
remembers a time in the summer of 1939 when a naval ship, the HMS Torrin, is
sent into ­battle off the coast of Norway. During the ­battle, a rattled stoker (Richard
Attenborough) flees from his station while Ordinary Seaman Shorty Blake (John
Mills) commits to his post even a­ fter his other crew members are torpedoed. Once
the ship safely harbors, Capt. Kinross lauds his crew’s bravery while cautioning the
sailor who abandoned his post. Back in the pres­ent, the men on the raft watch
the Torrin begin to sink. Blake is wounded by German fire. Blake then remembers
first meeting his soon-­to-be wife, Freda (Kay Walsh) during his leave. It turns out
that the Torrin’s Chief Petty Officer Walter Hardy (Bernard Miles) is her relative.
When Hardy and Blake return to their posts on the ­water, Freda goes to live with
Hardy’s wife and mother-­in-­law. The Torrin assists during the Dunkirk evacuation
of 1940. Meanwhile, the Luftwaffe’s nightly Blitz is decimating British towns and
cities. During his time at sea, Blake receives a letter with the news that Freda has
given birth to the c­ ouple’s son in the midst of an air raid. However, the letter also
reveals that Hardy’s wife and mother-­in-­law ­were killed during the very same raid.
Blake breaks the awful news to Harvey, and the flashback ends. The scene recom-
mences in the pres­ent just as the life raft survivors watch the sinking Torrin
get swallowed by the sea. The men give a last “three cheers” for the Torrin, but
German planes swoop overhead and shoot at the raft, resulting in more deaths and
injuries, when suddenly another German plane rakes the raft with machine-­gun
fire, killing and wounding more men. On board, Capt. Kinross collects addresses
from the d ­ ying sailors, and sends tele­grams to relatives, letting them know the sad
news about their loved ones. Kinross and his fellow survivors are ferried to a mili-
tary post in Alexandria, Egypt. Kinross gives an inspiring speech to his fellow sur-
vivors, stating that the deaths of their comrades and their ship should only spur
them on to fight all the harder in the next ­battles that they ­w ill face. Capt. Kinross
shakes the hand of each man as they collect their new assignments. An epilogue
in voice-­over praises Britain’s seamen and Capt. Kinross is shown in command of
a battleship, ordering its massive main guns to open fire on the ­enemy.

Reception
In Which We Serve premiered on 27 September 1942 in London as a benefit for
several naval charities. The movie then went into wide release throughout ­Great
Britain to critical accolades and strong box office results. It ultimately took in
2 million pounds—­more than double its production cost. Released in the United
States just before Christmas 1942, In Which We Serve was also popu­lar with Amer-
ican audiences and critics. Manny Farber pronounced it the movie of the year, and
Bosley Crowther was almost grandiloquent in his praise, calling it “one of the most
eloquent motion pictures of t­ hese or any other times . . . ​truly a picture in which
the British may take a w
­ holesome pride and we may regard as an excellent expres-
sion of British strength” (Crowther, 1942).
174 I VA N ’ S C H I L D H O O D [ RUSS I A N : I VA N O V O D E T S T V O ]

Reel History Versus Real History


Loosely based on Lord Mountbatten’s command of the HMS Kelly, In Which We
Serve is an impressively accurate repre­sen­ta­tion of life (and death) aboard a Royal
Navy destroyer during the Second World War. The movie also offers a realistic
depiction of life on the home front, with wives missing their husbands away at
war—­some never to return—­and with the civilian populace coping daily with the
terrors of the Nazi Blitz. For added verisimilitude Lord Louis Mountbatten insisted
that the film’s extras be replaced with real sailors. Similarly, the troops used in the
movie’s Dunkirk evacuation scene w ­ ere acted by real soldiers from the 5th Bat-
talion Coldstream Guards, some who had actually taken part in the Dunkirk evac-
uation. The scene that depicts the cowardly young stoker deserting his post was
based on a real incident that occurred on 14 December 1939 on HMS Kelly. A sailor
panicked and left his post ­after the Kelly struck a mine, sustaining damage to her
hull. A
­ fter the ship was towed in, Mountbatten rounded up his crew and delivered
a speech that Coward enacts almost verbatim in the film. In the scenes depicting
the sinking of the Torrin, the Royal Air Force (RAF) contributed captured German
planes flown by British pi­lots, normally used for b ­ attle training.

I VA N ’ S C H I L D H O O D [ R U S S I A N :
I VA N O V O D E T S T V O ] ( 1 9 6 2 )

Synopsis
Ivan’s Childhood is a Soviet war film directed by Andrei Tarkovsky. Based on Vladi-
mir Bogomolov’s 1957 short story, “Ivan,” the film features child actor Nikolai
Burlyayev in the title role as an orphan boy turned Red Army soldier who is moti-
vated by a desire for vengeance a­ fter the German invaders slaughter his f­amily.

Background
When Hitler’s Wehrmacht invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941 a 15-­year-­old
schoolboy named Vladimir Bogomolov (1926–2003) joined millions of his coun-
trymen in the desperate fight to defend his homeland. Bogomolov won medals for
bravery, somehow survived the war, and went on to become a writer who special-
ized in “­Great Patriotic War” fiction. One of his earliest stories was Иван [Ivan]
(1957), a first-­person Socialist Realist novella about a doomed 12-­year-­old orphan
who becomes a Soviet army scout to avenge the death of his f­ amily at the hands of
the Nazis. Commissioned by Mosfilm to write a film adaptation, screenwriter
Mikhail Papava made Ivan more heroic and even gave the story a happy ending.
In Papava’s screenplay, entitled Vtoraya Zhisn [A Second Life], Ivan is not executed
by the Germans—as he is in Bogomolov’s novel—­but sent to Majdanek extermi-
nation camp. Freed by the advancing Soviet army, Ivan l­ater marries and raises a
­family. When film director Eduard Abalov began shooting Papava’s screenplay in
1960, Bogomolov objected to Papava’s bastardization of his story and insisted that
the script by revised to more accurately reflect the source material. The Soviet Arts
Council agreed and terminated the proj­ ect in October  1960. In June  1961
I VA N ’ S C H I L D H O O D [ RUSS I A N : I VA N O V O D E T S T V O ] 175

Mosfilm revived the proj­ect and assigned it to Andrei Tarkovsky, a recent VGIK
(Gerasimov All-­Russian State Institute of Cinematography) film school gradu­ate,
who had applied to direct the film, ­after being told about Ivan by his friend, cine-
matographer Vadim Yusov, who would go on to shoot the picture.

Production
Shooting on location near the Dnieper River city of Kaniv, in central Ukraine, Tar-
kovsky had to work fast b ­ ecause much of the film’s bud­get had already been used
up by Eduard Abalov. From the start of the shoot to the assembly of a rough cut
(16 June 1960–30 January 1961), the film took less than eight months to make. It
also came in 24,000 rubles u ­ nder bud­get, partly b
­ ecause Tarkovsky edited as he
went along, not in post-­production (Johnson and Petrie, 1994, p. 67). Though they
stayed much closer to Bogomolov’s narrative than Papava and Abalov, Tarkovsky
and his uncredited co-­screenwriter, Andre Konchalovsky, added four dream
sequences and slightly surreal visual ele­ments to limn Ivan’s psychological trauma.
They also added a romance subplot. Such poetic license did not sit well with Bogo-
molov or with the Mosfilm bureaucrats supervising the proj­ect. Over the course of
the production they subjected Tarkovsky to 13 “editorial” sessions, presided over
by eminent Rus­sian literary artists and filmmakers. All sorts of changes, major and
minor, ­were suggested, but Tarkovsky’s mentor, director Mikhail Romm, was able
to argue against the cutting of any footage.

Plot Summary
The setting is Soviet Rus­sia during World War II. ­A fter a brief, idyllic dream
sequence, Ivan Bondarev (Nikolai Burlyaev), a young Rus­sian, startles awake inside
a windmill and runs across a decimated landscape. He continues on through a
swamp and across a sizable river. When he reaches the far bank, Rus­sian soldiers
capture him and hand him over to Lt. Galtsev (Evgeny Zharikov), who interro-
gates him. The boy adamantly demands that the lieutenant call “Number 51 at
Headquarters” to report him. Galtsev calls the headquarters and is informed by
Lt.-­Col. Grayaznov (Nikolai Grinko) that the boy is to be given writing materials
and left to compose a high-­priority report. Grayaznov also asks that the boy be
treated kindly while in Galtsev’s care. Cut-­together dream sequences reveal that
Ivan’s f­amily has been exterminated by the Germans. Ivan managed to run away
and linked up with a group of partisans, l­ater joining Grayaznov’s troops. Ivan’s
anger over the deaths of his ­family members has led him to fight on the frontline,
performing recon missions for his army unit. Grayaznov and the soldiers u ­ nder
his command take a liking to Ivan and try to convince him to enter a military acad­
emy. However, Ivan is dead set on avenging his ­family and the other poor souls
who died at extermination camps. With interspersed dream sequences, the film
spends the majority of its time in a cellar room where the soldiers wait for new
­orders and Ivan anticipates his next mission. The walls of the cellar are covered
with desperate messages from German prisoners. At long last, Galtsev and another
soldier bring Ivan back across the river ­under the cover of darkness. The remain-
ing soldiers return to the other shore. The scene shifts to Berlin ­after the fall of the
176 I VA N ’ S C H I L D H O O D [ RUSS I A N : I VA N O V O D E T S T V O ]

Third Reich. A brief montage derived from newsreel footage includes shots of the
ruined Reich Chancellery, the bodies of Joseph Goebbels and his c­ hildren, and
German General Alfred Jodl signing the surrender documents (8 May 1945). We
learn from Galtsev’s voice-­over narration that Capt. Kholin has been killed in
action. Galtsev also finds a dossier in the rubble of a Nazi government building
in Berlin showing that Ivan was captured and hanged by the Germans. In a final
flashback of Ivan’s childhood, he is shown playfully ­r unning a foot race against a
young girl on a sunny day at the beach. When he rushes up to a dead tree, the
film ends.

Reception
Released on 6 April 1962, Ivan’s Childhood sold 16.7 million tickets in the Soviet
Union, making it one of Andrei Tarkovsky’s most commercially successful films.
Highly praised by critics, the film shared the Golden Lion with Valerio Zurlini’s
Cronaca familiar [­Family Portrait] at the 23rd Venice Film Festival (May 1962) and
also won top director’s honors at the 6th San Francisco Film Festival (Novem-
ber 1962). A ­ fter it won the Golden Lion, Mario Alicata, the editor of L’Unità (the
official newspaper of the Italian Communist Party), denounced the film as display-
ing “petit-­bourgeois tendencies” whereupon Jean-­Paul Sartre wrote an open letter
to Alicata, defending Ivan’s Childhood as “one of the most beautiful films I have had
the privilege of seeing in the last few years” and noted that “Ivan is mad . . . ​is a
monster; that is a ­little hero; in real­ity, he is the most innocent and touching vic-
tim of the war: this boy, whom one cannot stop loving, has been forged by the
vio­lence he has internalized” (Sartre, 1965). Ingmar Bergman, who had already
made many of his greatest films, would ­later describe his discovery of Ivan’s Child-
hood as “like a miracle.” Filmmakers Krzysztof Kieślowski and Sergei Parajanov have
also praised the film and cited it as a major influence on their work.

Reel History Versus Real History


Though the story that Ivan’s Childhood tells is fictional, Vladimir Bogomolov based
it on his real-­life experiences as an underage combatant (he reached official recruit-
ment age in July 1944, a­ fter having already been in combat for three full years).
Bogomolov’s story was not unusual. A ­ fter the terrible defeats in the summer and
fall of 1941, the Red Army was desperate for manpower; many underage boys—­
known as “sons of the regiment”—­were allowed to join the army. Rus­sian war
orphans like the fictional Ivan Bondarev ­were supposed to be sent to orphanages
but sometimes unofficially joined the Red Army or partisan units. Like Ivan, they
­were usually used in reconnaissance roles.
J
JARHEAD (2005)

Synopsis
Jarhead is an American war film based on former U.S. Marine Anthony Swofford’s
2003 memoir of the same title. Directed by Sam Mendes and starring Jake Gyl-
lenhaal as Swofford, with Jamie Foxx, Peter Sarsgaard, and Chris Cooper, the film
recounts Swofford’s five-­month stint in the Persian Gulf before and during the First
Gulf War in 1990–1991.

Background
Anthony Swofford, the son of a Vietnam-­era Marine Corps veteran from Fair-
field, California, joined the Marines in 1989 at the age of 18. On 14 August 1990,
just ­after the start of the First Persian Gulf War (2 August  1990–28 Febru-
ary 1991), Swofford was deployed to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, as part of Operation
Desert Shield. He served as a scout sniper with the Surveillance and Target
Acquisition (STA) Platoon of 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Division, but was not in
combat during his deployment in the Persian Gulf. On 4 March 2003—16 days
before the start of “Operation Iraqi Freedom”—­Scribner’s published Swofford’s
memoir: Jarhead: A Marine Chronicle of the Gulf War and Other ­Battles (the WWII-­
era slang word “jarhead” derives from the “high and tight” Marine haircut that
gives the head a jar-­like appearance). Praised by critics for its vivid evocation of
a modern soldier’s life, Jarhead became a national bestseller. While the book was
still in galley form, Swofford sold the film rights for $2 million to producers
Douglas Wick and his wife, Lucy Fisher, and Universal bud­geted $70 million for
production. William Broyles Jr. (Apollo 13) was hired to write a script based on
the book and had a draft finished by early 2004. In May  2004 Sam Mendes
(American Beauty) was hired to direct. Christian Bale, Emile Hirsch, Leonardo
DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Shane West, Josh Hartnett, and Joshua Jackson w ­ ere
all considered for the role of Swofford, but in late October 2004, Jake Gyllenhaal
won the part. The filmmakers sought the assistance of the Department of Defense
(DOD), but Pentagon officials deci­ded the script was not a “feasible interpreta-
tion of military life.”

Production
Jarhead was shot in sequence between January and May 2005. Filming began on
the sound stages of Universal Studios. The first location work—­the Camp Pend-
leton scenes—­took place on George Air Force Base in Victorville, California, a
178 J A R H E A D

decommissioned but still partially active fa­cil­i­ty about 75 miles northeast of Los
Angeles. The Marine barracks scenes in Saudi Arabia w ­ ere filmed in and around
the ­Grand Salon at California State University, Channel Islands in Camarillo, Cali-
fornia. Principal photography ended almost exactly five months a­fter it began
with filming at the 200,000-­acre North Algodones Dunes Wilderness Area (aka
Imperial Sand Dunes or Glamis Dunes) in southeast California, 20 miles north of
the U.S.-­Mexico border. Ironically, at five months, the shoot took the same amount
of time that Swofford spent on the Arabian Peninsula.

Plot Summary
In 1989, Anthony “Swoff” Swofford (Jake Gyllenhaal) undergoes U.S. Marine Corps
training before being stationed at Camp Pendleton (Ocean­side, California). Swof-
ford pretends to be sick to get shirk his duties, but Staff Sergeant Sykes (Jamie Foxx)
sees some potential in the recruit and enrolls Swofford in his Scout Sniper course.
­After a grueling training regimen, the number of soldiers in the course is winnowed
down to eight candidates. Swofford makes the cut and becomes a sniper. His room-
mate, Cpl. Alan Troy (Peter Sarsgaard), serves as spotter. During the Iraqi invasion
of Kuwait, Swofford and his fellow troop members are sent to the Arabian Penin-
sula for Operation Desert Shield. The Marines are keyed up for b ­ attle, but are forced
to wait five long months before co­ali­tion forces are fully deployed in the area and
ready to attack Saddam’s Iraqi Army. In the meantime, life for Swofford and his
fellow Marines is monotonous. To relieve the tedium, Swofford throws a Christ-
mas party, complete with illegal alcohol, and has Pfc. Fergus O’Donnell (Brian Ger-
aghty) cover his watch. O’Donnell mistakenly sets off a crate of flares and wakes
up the entire crew. Sykes pieces together what has happened and demotes Swof-
ford from lance corporal to private. Demotion, humiliating duty, the intense des-
ert sun, the tedium of daily life at the camp, and Swofford’s suspicion that his
girlfriend is being unfaithful drive him ­toward a ­mental collapse. Swofford pulls a
­r ifle on O’Donnell and then makes a complete 180 and demands that O’Donnell
shoot him instead. Operation Desert Storm, the U.S. led-­coalition offensive to drive
Iraqi forces out of Kuwait, fi­nally begins (on 17 January 1991), and the Marines head
to the Saudi Arabia–­Kuwait border. Swofford discovers that Troy has a hidden crim-
inal rec­ord, one that w
­ ill get him discharged from the crew once they get home. The
Marines advance through the desert, encountering no ­enemy re­sis­tance, but are
mistakenly attacked by U.S. warplanes and sustain “friendly fire” casualties. ­Later,
the Marines encounter the infamous “Highway of Death,” a road between Kuwait
and Iraq that is littered with dead, mutilated Iraqi soldiers and burned vehicles—­a
grotesque sight that ­causes Wofford to vomit. The retreating Iraqis set fire to oil
wells, causing a rain of crude black oil droplets to fall from the sky. At long last,
Swofford and Troy are sent on a sniper mission. Lt. Col. Kazinski (Chris Cooper),
the leader of their unit, ­orders them to eliminate one of two Iraqi Republican Guard
officers in a nearby Iraqi airfield. As Swofford goes to shoot, Major Lincoln (Dennis
Haysbert) interrupts the mission and phones in an airstrike. Not wanting to see
their first real mission quashed, Swofford and Troy beg to proceed, but the two
are overruled and forced to watch bitterly as American warplanes bomb the Iraqi
JARHEAD 179

airfield. Iraqi re­sis­tance never materializes, and the First Gulf War ends a­ fter just
four days. Swofford goes home on leave and finds that his girlfriend, Kristina
(Brianne Davis), has moved on to a new boyfriend. We see snippets of other sol-
diers trying to reintegrate into civilian life, and also see Sykes serving as a first
sergeant in the Iraq War. ­Later, O’Donnell visits Swofford and informs him of Troy’s
death in a car accident. Swofford attends Troy’s funeral and sees some of the other
men from their unit. The film ends with the group reminiscing about the war.

Reception
Jarhead opened on the weekend of 4–6 November 2005 and closed on 19 Janu-
ary 2006 (widest release: 2,448 theaters)—­four years post-9/11, seven months ­after
the U.S. invasion of Iraq that toppled Saddam Hussein’s regime, and in the midst
of deadly and relentless al Qaeda insurgency, that is, the evolving military-­political
catastrophe known as the Second Gulf War, against which Jarhead was still topical
in a general sense but, at the same time, yesterday’s news. During its 14-­week run,
the movie grossed $62.6 million in domestic box office receipts. Foreign box office
receipts came in at $34.2 million, for a worldwide total of $96.8 million. A ­ fter the-
aters took their percentage of the gross, Universal made about $53.2 million, a
sum that left the studio at a considerable loss (overhead, i.e., production and world-
wide P&A bud­gets combined, prob­ably exceeded $100 million). Though it tanked
at the box office, Jarhead did well on the home video market, posting over $52 mil-
lion in retail sales, considerably mitigating Universal’s losses. Reviews ­were mixed.
For film critic Mick LaSalle, the movie’s ambivalent perspective “feels right. The
ambivalence runs deep. Jarhead, at least to a degree, blows the myth of the noble
warrior. Yet it also suggests that a nation depends on that myth and its appeal to
certain kinds of impressionable p ­ eople. So that at the end of his experience, Swof-
ford d­ oesn’t know if he’s been enhanced or played for a sucker. Neither do we”
(LaSalle, 2005). Writing from a radical Left perspective, Joanne Laurier criticized
both book and film for lacking any meaningful perspective beyond the nihilistic
machismo of young Marines: “Swofford’s work, however, remains extremely lim-
ited, and open to truly deplorable interpretation, ­because he has failed to make
any serious assessment, ­after more than a de­cade, of the Gulf War, its objective
origins and consequences . . . ​Both film and book fail to perceive that the deep
demoralization of the U.S. forces flows ultimately from their soul-­destroying assign-
ment to conquer the world on behalf of a bankrupt imperialism” (Laurier, 2005).

Reel History Versus Real History


When Jarhead was released, the U.S. Marine Corps Public Affairs office released a
memo warning that “the movie’s script is an inaccurate portrayal of Marines in
general and does not provide a reasonable interpretation of military life” (quoted
in Fick, 2005). Though he thought the Marines’ official condemnation “a bit much,”
ex-­Marine Fick took issue with some of the incidents depicted in Jarhead: “Could
a Marine ­really be shot and killed in training without any fallout whatsoever? Would
dozens of Marines celebrate the end of the war by dancing around a bonfire, glee-
fully firing their r­ ifles into the night sky? Could Swofford’s sniper team actually
180 JOHNNY GOT HIS GUN

get abandoned on the battlefield, alone and forgotten? Not in my Marine Corps.”
Interviewed by an L.A. Times staff writer a­ fter seeing the film at a theater near
Swofford’s home base, Camp Pendleton, active-­duty and retired Marines gave
Jarhead mixed reviews. A retired Marine thought that “too often, Jarhead shows
Swofford and his buddies acting “more like a college fraternity ­house than a
disciplined Marine unit.” However, Marines who saw the film praised it for its
accurate portrayal of “Semper Fi” comradery: kinship-­like bonds formed in a
combat zone that last a lifetime (Perry, 2005).

JOHNNY GOT HIS GUN (1971)

Synopsis
Johnny Got His Gun is an American anti-­war film written and directed by Dalton
Trumbo and starring Timothy Bottoms, Kathy Fields, Marsha Hunt, Jason Robards,
Donald Sutherland, and Diane Varsi. Based on Trumbo’s eponymous 1939 novel,
the film concerns an American World War I soldier who survives the loss of all
four limbs and most of his face in a shell blast and is subsequently consigned to a
living death in a military hospital.

Background
According to Dalton Trumbo, his searing anti-­war novel, Johnny Got His Gun was
inspired by newspaper accounts regarding two grievously wounded WWI soldiers,
one Canadian, the other British. On a trip to Canada in August 1927 the Prince of
Wales visited a military fa­cil­i­ty for soldiers and encountered a limbless and mostly
faceless soldier, with whom he could only communicate by kissing the man on
the forehead. The other case involved a British major who was “so torn up that he
was deliberately reported missing in action. It was not u ­ ntil years l­ater [1933]—­
after the victim had fi­nally died alone in a military hospital, that his ­family learned
the truth” (Flatley, p. 79). Haunted by images of intact minds trapped inside shat-
tered bodies, Trumbo wrote Johnny Got His Gun in 1938, a novel about an Ameri-
can soldier with his face and limbs blown off but still possessed of his full ­mental
faculties (the book’s title ironically references the popu­lar WWI recruitment song,
“Over ­There,” by George M. Cohan, which contains the opt-­repeated phrase, “John-
nie get your gun”). Ironically published on 3 September 1939—­just two days a­ fter
the start of World War II—­Johnny Got His Gun sold over 18,000 copies and won the
National Book Award (then called the American Book Sellers Award). In 1964
Trumbo and Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel collaborated on a screen adaptation
of Johnny in Mexico but by the time Trumbo had the script finished in Septem-
ber 1965, Buñuel’s producer, Gustavo Alatriste, had run out of money so the proj­
ect was scrapped. The escalating war in Vietnam once again made Johnny Got His
Gun topical and reignited Trumbo’s pacifist zeal; he pitched his script all over Hol-
lywood but it was rejected 17 times before a production deal was signed with
producer Bruce Campbell in April 1968. Though he was 63 and had never directed
a film, Trumbo deci­ded to direct. Though offered $800,000 in financing from Allied
JOHNNY GOT HIS GUN 181

Artists, Trumbo opted to accept a $750,000 financing package put together by a


group of 25 investors led by Simon Lazarus (producer of Herbert J. Biberman’s 1954
strike movie, Salt of the Earth) and Ben Margolis, trusted friends and associates.

Production
The shoot lasted 42 days (2 July 1970–26 August 1970), was filmed at 23 loca-
tions, and went over bud­get. According to an August 1971 article in American Cin-
ematographer, the hospital scenes ­were filmed at Producers Studio on Melrose
Ave­nue in Hollywood. A small, private lake near Lake Tahoe, California, was used
for some flashback sequences. Battlefield sequences w ­ ere shot in Chatsworth, Cal-
ifornia. The carnival barker scenes ­were filmed at El Mirage Dry Lake in the South-
ern Mojave Desert. The bakery was located in an abandoned factory in Culver
City, California. “Christ’s” carpentry shop was a shed in Highland Park, and the
­house in which Joe’s ­father died, located at 55th St. in Los Angeles, was the ­actual
­house where Trumbo’s f­ ather died in 1926. In post-­production the film was edited
down from a rough cut of over three hours to its original ­r unning time of 112 min-
utes, and then to 111 minutes, to qualify for a “GP” rating.

Plot Synopsis
During World War I, a badly wounded soldier is saved by a trio of surgeons
(Eduard Franz, Ben Hammer, and Robert Easton), although the chief surgeon,
Col. M. F. Tillery (Franz), declares that the young soldier has no higher brain
functions. Tillery is determined to study the soldier as a living specimen and insists
that if he had more than mere basal metabolic functions, he would not allow him to
live. Unknown to Tillery or the other medical personnel, the soldier, a 20-­year-­old
American named Joe Bonham (Timothy Bottoms), has his full m ­ ental faculties.
While he lies in the hospital, drugged and swathed in ban­dages, Joe won­ders where
he is and drifts into a reverie of the night before he left for the war, when he was
with his sweetheart, Kareen (Kathy Fields). Despite her pleading with him not to
enlist, Joe insists that he must, and the c­ ouple makes love for the first time. Back
at the hospital, Joe realizes that although he can feel his blood pumping, he can-
not hear his pulse, which means that he is deaf. In g­ reat pain and sensing that he
is covered with ban­dages, Joe surmises that he been critically wounded. Believing
that he can hear a telephone ringing, Joe then remembers the night that his f­ ather
(Jason Robards) died. When his mind returns to the pres­ent, Joe realizes that the
stinging sensation he feels is Tillery removing the stitches from his shoulder where
his right arm has been amputated. Tillery then o­ rders the staff to keep Joe in a
locked room, with the win­dows covered so that no one ­w ill be able to see him.
Still completely covered, except for his forehead, Joe floats in a drugged state and
imagines himself at the train station before he and his new buddies shipped out.
They play cards with Christ (Donald Sutherland), who instructs the ­others, who are
describing how they are ­going to die, to leave Joe alone when they protest that he
­will not actually be killed. In the hospital, Joe’s sutures are removed from his hips,
as both of his legs have also been amputated, and he shrieks in horror to himself. As
he is overwhelmed by his inability to communicate, Joe’s tenuous grasp on real­ity
182 JOHNNY GOT HIS GUN

slips even more. Recalling his bucolic boyhood in Colorado, before his ­family moved
to Los Angeles, Joe remembers his ­mother’s religious faith and his ­father’s love for
his fishing pole. Awake again, Joe forces himself to explore his face from the inside
and realizes he no longer has a tongue or teeth or even a jaw. To his horror, Joe
senses he has also lost his nose, eyes, and ears; that his face is cratered from his
forehead to his throat. Joe’s thrashing prompts the nurse to sedate him, and as he
drifts off, he has a nightmare about a rat chewing on his forehead. Unable to dis-
tinguish between dreams and real­ity, Joe imagines himself in Christ’s carpentry
shop, where he asks Christ for help. Each of Christ’s suggestions fail, as Joe cannot
brush the rat from his face if it is real, nor yell to awaken himself if he is having a
nightmare. Joe is awakened in the hospital by the footsteps of two nurses, and the
head nurse, angered that Joe is so isolated, insists that the shutters be opened so
that he can have sunshine and that his bed be properly made up with sheets. Joe
is thrilled by the sensory changes and constructs a scheme to track the passage of
time. A year ­later, Joe laments that he does not know exactly how old he is, nor
when the year he has counted began. Recalling the war, Joe relives the night he
was wounded. In a trench with some British soldiers, Joe is writing a letter to
Kareen when an officious British col­o­nel (Maurice Dallimore) ­orders Cpl. Tim-
lon (Eric Christmas) to remove the stinking corpse of an e­ nemy soldier entangled
in barbed wire nearby and give him a decent burial. Timlon and several men, Joe
included, go out that night to bury the German soldier but they come ­under heavy
artillery fire and Joe is hit by a shell. Pondering his fate, Joe then recalls his f­ amily’s
visit to a carnival freak show and imagines his ­father as a barker, advertising Joe
as “The Self-­Supporting Basket Case.” Joe’s reverie ends when a new young nurse
(Diane Varsi) enters the room. Exposing Joe’s chest, the sympathetic w ­ oman
begins to cry, and Joe is moved to feel her tears upon his skin. The nurse prompts
Joe to think of Kareen, who chastises him for leaving her pregnant and alone,
although Joe assures her that in his mind, she ­w ill stay young and beautiful for-
ever. L­ ater, on a wintry night, the nurse begins to trace letters with her fin­ger onto
Joe’s bare chest. He soon realizes that she is writing “Merry Christmas” and nods
his head in affirmation. Joe is overjoyed; he now has an exact date from which to
tell time. ­After hallucinating a Christmas cele­bration at the bakery at which he used
to work, Joe finds himself in a forest setting where he encounters his ­father, who
advises him to seek help by “sending a tele­gram” using the Morse code that he
and his friend Bill learned as c­ hildren, and Joe realizes he can tap out a message
by nodding his head. Excited, Joe begins tapping an SOS by a series of nods, and
the young nurse realizes that this is not merely an automatic muscular response.
The doctor sedates Joe, but when Tillery visits the hospital, the nurse brings
him to Joe’s bedside. One of the other officers pres­ent recognizes Joe’s SOS, and it
dawns on the shocked men that Joe is not brain dead but has been completely
conscious the ­whole time. The men, especially the chaplain, castigate Tillery for
condemning Joe to such a hellish existence. When asked what he wants, Joe
pleads to be exhibited to the public. The brigadier general refuses so Joe then
responds, “Kill me.” Although she has been ordered to sedate him, the nurse says
a prayer and then clamps shut Joe’s breathing tube to put him out of his misery.
JOHNNY GOT HIS GUN 183

Joe blesses her for releasing him from his agony, but before Joe dies, the brigadier
general returns, opens the air clamp, and o­ rders the nurse to leave. Feeling the
nurse’s footsteps fading away, Joe despairs. A
­ fter the doctor injects him, Joe weakly
continues tapping out his SOS, knowing that he is condemned to his private hell
­until death releases him in his old age.

Reception
­After it was accepted for “out-­of-­competition screening only” at the 24th Cannes
Film Festival (May 1971), the festival’s panel of critics unanimously declared that
Johnny Got His Gun deserved to be in the main festival. The film went on to win
the ­Grand Prix Spécial du Jury and the FIPRESCI Prize. Director Claude LeLouche
(A Man and a ­Woman), who was in attendance at its screening, wept and pronounced
Johnny “the greatest film I’ve ever seen” (Haber, p. 63). Also entered at the Atlanta
Film Festival five weeks ­later, the movie won the Golden Phoenix Award for “Best
of Festival” and the Golden Dove Peace Prize. Subsequent commercial exhibition,
however, was extremely limited and the film lost money. Reviews ­were likewise
mixed. Roger Ebert liked it: “Trumbo has taken the most difficult sort of material—­
the story of a soldier who lost his arms, his legs, and most of his face in a World
War I shell burst—­and handled it, strange to say, in a way that’s not so much anti-­
war as pro-­life. Perhaps that’s why I admire it” (Ebert, 1971). Film critic Walter
Lowe was more ambivalent. Though he termed it “excellent and highly recom-
mended,” Lowe felt that Trumbo “got carried away” with “overly surrealistic cam-
era work on the dream sequences,” an approach that “that tended to separate the
dream scenes from the memories, which is contrary to the intent of the novel, which
ran dreams and memories and real­ity together so they ­were barely distinguishable
from one other” (Lowe, 1971).

Reel History Versus Real History


For a soldier to lose all four limbs and his face in a bomb blast and still survive in
hospital sequestration was an extreme rarity but evidently did happen; as noted
earlier, the terrible injuries suffered by Joe Bonham ­were based on two or three
­actual cases. One might, however, take issue with Trumbo’s depiction of Joe’s med-
ical treatment—or lack thereof. Missing limbs ­were replaced with prosthetic ones,
and army doctors made heroic efforts to reconstruct war-­shattered f­aces through
plastic surgery. Failing that, prosthetic ­faces ­were devised. Still, it is plausible that
a so-­called “basket case” of the severity of Joe Bonham might have elicited the kind
of sequestration and non-­treatment shown in Johnny Got His Gun.
K
K A G E M U S H A [ T H E S H A D O W WA R R I O R ] ( 1 9 8 0 )

Synopsis
Kagemusha is an epic war film by Akira Kurosawa set in the Sengoku period of
Japa­nese history that tells the story of a petty criminal who is taught to imperson-
ate a d
­ ying daimyō (warlord) to dissuade his enemies from attacking his now-­
vulnerable clan. The daimyō is based on Takeda Shingen, and the film ends by
depicting the ­actual ­Battle of Nagashino in 1575.

Background
In the five years ­after the release of Dersu Uzala (1975), director Akira Kurosawa
(Seven Samurai) worked on developing three film proj­ects: a samurai version of
King Lear entitled Ran (Japa­nese for Chaos); Edgar Allan Poe’s “Masque of the Red
Death” (never filmed); and Kagemusha, a screenwriting collaboration with Masato
Ide about a petty thief who impersonates a feudal warlord. Kurosawa could not
secure funding for Kagemusha in Japan u ­ ntil the summer of 1978, when he met
with two of his greatest admirers: American directors George Lucas and Francis
Ford Coppola. ­A fter Lucas and Coppola persuaded 20th  ­Century Fox to pre-­
purchase foreign distribution rights for $1.5 million, Toho Co. Ltd. (Tokyo) put up
the bulk of the funding: 100 million yen ($5 million). With a $6.5 million bud­get,
Kagemusha was the most expensive film made in Japan up to that time. It was also
the most meticulously planned. In the years spent finding financing Kurosawa
made hundreds of story­board drawings and paintings mapping out the look of
­every shot and scene. Location scouting for a movie set in 16th-­century Japan
proved to be challenging; pervasive industrialization ­after World War II rendered
much of the country visually unsuitable for a period film. Kurosawa visited doz-
ens of medieval c­ astles before choosing Himeji C ­ astle (40 miles west of Kobe, on
Japan’s main island of Honshu), Iga-­Ueno ­Castle (40 miles southeast of Kyoto, also
on Honshu), and Kumamoto ­Castle (on Japan’s most southwesterly island of
Kyushu). ­Battle scenes w­ ere filmed on Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost and least
developed island, utilizing hundreds of hand-­picked extras and 200 specially
trained h
­ orses, flown in from the United States. Many of the riders w ­ ere female
members of vari­ous Japa­nese equestrian organ­izations whom Kurosawa preferred
­because he found them more daring than most men.

Production
As Kurosawa scholar Donald Richie notes, “Of all the films of Kurosawa, Kagemusha
was the most disaster-­ridden” (Richie, 1996, p. 205). Kurosawa’s cinematographer,
K A G E M U S H A [ T H E S H A D O W WA R R I O R ] 185

Kazuo Miyagawa, had to drop out due to failing eyesight brought on by diabe-
tes. He was replaced by Takao Saito and Masaharu Ueda (supervised by Asakazu
Nakai). Next, Kurosawa and his composer, Masaru Sato, parted ways a­ fter intrac-
table disagreements over the film’s score. Sato was replaced by Shinichiro Ikebe.
Then Shinaro Katsu, Japan’s leading comic actor for whom Kurosawa wrote the
starring roles of Shingen and the thief, quit or was fired (accounts vary) on the
first day of shooting. Stage actor Tatsuya Nakadai was hired to replace Katsu.
Though disrupted by a typhoon and by Nakadai falling off his h ­ orse and spend-
ing time in the hospital, the nine-­month shoot in 1979 went only a week or so
over schedule. For the climactic ­Battle of Nagashino, Kurosawa had to anaesthe-
tize dozens of ­horses to simulate their having been slain on the battlefield; he had
only a half-­hour to shoot the b ­ attle’s aftermath before the h
­ orses started to wake
up. Assembling a rough cut from daily rushes as he went along, Kurosawa com-
pleted the film’s final cut just three weeks a­ fter the shoot ended.

Plot Summary
During Japan’s Sengoku, or “Warring States,” period (c.1467–­c.1603), Takeda Shin-
gen (Tatsuya Nakadai), daimyō (i.e., feudal warlord) of the Takeda clan, meets
with his ­brother Nobukado (Tsutomu Yamazaki) and an unnamed thief (also played
by Tatsuya Nakadai) whom his ­brother has saved from certain death using the
thief’s remarkable resemblance to Shingen. The b ­ rothers decide that the thief could
be an asset, as he could be used as a double for security purposes or could prove use-
ful as a kagemusha (a po­liti­cal decoy). L
­ ater, Shingen’s army lays siege to a c­ astle of
rival warlord Tokugawa Ieyasu (Masayuki Yui). One eve­ning, on a visit to the battle-
field, Shingen is shot by a sniper who has been tracking him. Before d ­ ying from his
wound, he o­ rders his army to withdraw and tells his officers that his death must
remain a secret for three years. Meanwhile, unaware that he is dead, Shingen’s
rival warlords—­Oda Nobunaga (Daisuke Ryû), Tokugawa Ieyasu (Masayuki Yui),
and Uesugi Kenshin (Eiichi Kanakubo)—­ponder the meaning and consequences
of Shingen’s withdrawing his army. Nobukado brings the thief to Shingen’s offi-
cers, suggesting that the thief serve as a kagemusha and thus act as Shingen. How-
ever, Shingen’s officers feel that the thief cannot be trusted, so he is released. The
Takeda leaders dispose of Shingen’s remains in Lake Suwa. Tokugawa sees the
disposal of the remains and deduce that Shingen has perished. The thief overhears
the spies and offers to work as a kagemusha for the Takeda clan. They accept. The
spies follow the Takeda to their home, but are surprised to find the kagemusha
acting as Shingen. Mimicking Shingen’s ­every mannerism, the thief effectively fools
the spies, Shingen’s retinue, Takeda Katsuyori’s son, and even Shingen’s own grand­
son. During the clan council meeting, the kagemusha is instructed to listen to all
of the generals u­ ntil they reach an agreement and then simply agree with the gen-
erals’ recommended course of action and move to dismiss the council. Shingen’s
son, Katsuyori (Kenichi Hagiwara), is b ­ itter about his f­ ather’s lengthy, posthumous
deception, as it puts a hold on his own inheritance and rise in the clan leadership.
In 1573, the Tokugawa and Oda clans assault the Takeda lands, and Katsuyori
defies his general and initiates a counterattack. During the B ­ attle of Takatenjin
(1574), the kagemusha rallies the soldiers and leads them to success. Becoming
186 K A G E M U S H A [ T H E S H A D O W WA R R I O R ]

overconfident a­ fter his successes, the kagemusha tries to r­ ide Shingen’s excitable
­horse, but is thrown to the ground. As soldiers rush to his aid, they notice that he
is missing Shingen’s unique ­battle scars. The thief is shown to be an imposter, and
Katsuyori assumes his rightful place as leader of the clan. Meanwhile, Oda and
Tokugawa press onward in an effort to overtake the Takeda territory. Command-
ing his army, Katsuyori strikes against Nobunaga, culminating in the disastrous
­Battle of Nagashino (28 June 1575). Takeda cavalry and infantry attack in waves,
but are defeated by the Oda troops who have hidden ­behind stockades. The thief,
now exiled, witnesses the slaughter and makes a brave show of commitment to
his clan by ­r unning at the Oda frontlines with a spear. The kagemusha is badly
injured and dies while trying to pull the fūrinkazan from the river (the fūrinkazan
is Shingen’s ­battle standard inscribed with “Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain,” the four
phrases from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War: “as swift as wind, as gentle as forest, as fierce
as fire, as unshakable as mountain”).

Reception
Released in Japan on 26 April 1980, Kagemusha went on to become the country’s
most popu­lar film that year, grossing ¥2.7 billion at the box office (the equivalent
of $13.6 million in 1980). Screened in competition at the Cannes Film Festival in
May, Kagemusha won the Palme d’Or, sharing it with Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz. The
film premiered in the United States at the New York Film Festival on 1 October 1980
and then went into general release five days ­later but had poor box office returns;
a three-­hour epic about medieval Japan, Kagemusha had very limited appeal in
foreign markets. It did, however, garner lots of accolades, including two Oscar
nominations (for Best Foreign Language Film and Best Art Direction), a Golden
Globe nomination (Best Foreign Language Film), and four BAFTA nominations,
winning for Best Direction and Best Costume Design. Kagemusha also won
France’s César Award for Best Foreign Film. Critics often remarked upon the film’s
epic sweep, visual grandeur, and elaborate sense of pageantry but also noted its
essential pessimism. As Roger Ebert noted, “Kurosawa seems to be saying that
­great ­human endeavors . . . ​depend entirely on large numbers of men sharing the
same fantasies or beliefs. It is entirely unimportant, he seems to be suggesting,
­whether or not the beliefs are based on real­ity—­all that ­matters is that men accept
them. But when a belief is shattered, the result is confusion, destruction, and death”
(Ebert, 1980).

Reel History Versus Real History


Kurosawa anchored Kagemusha in Japan’s complex medieval history but also took
considerable artistic license with his source material. As portrayed in the film,
Takeda Shingen (1521–1573) was a power­ful feudal lord who waged war against
his rivals, Oda Nobunaga (1532–1584) and Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543–1616), for con-
trol of Kyoto, Japan’s capital at that time. In the movie, Shingen is shot by a sniper
and dies while laying siege to a Tokugawa clan stronghold (Noda ­Castle in Mikawa
Province). Though it is kept secret, Shingen’s death ­causes the Takeda clan to break
off the siege and retreat. In real­ity Shingen died on 13 May 1573, almost three
KANAŁ
187

months a­ fter Noda C ­ astle surrendered (16 February 1573), and accounts vary as
to the cause of death: a sniper wound sustained during the siege, or an old war
wound, or possibly from pneumonia. In the movie Shingen’s corpse is submersed
in Lake Suwa and his death is kept secret for three years. The historical real­ity is
that Shingen was interred at Erin-ji T ­ emple in what is now Kōshū, Yamanashi Pre-
fecture. T
­ here was no interregnum during which a kagemusha impersonated the
daimyō. Shingen’s son, Takeda Katsuyori (1546–1582), took over as leader of the
clan immediately ­after his ­father’s death and, as depicted the film, defeated
Tokugawa Ieyasu at the ­Battle of Takatenjin in 1574. As also depicted in the film,
Katsuyori was decisively defeated at the B ­ attle of Nagashino in 1575. Kurasawa’s
rendition of Nagashino is fairly accurate. When Katsuyori’s cavalry force (number-
ing about 4,000) attacked, 3,000 Nobunaga riflemen, protected b ­ ehind wooden
stockades, opened rotating volley fire with their Tanegashima (matchlock muskets)
and decimated the Takeda ­horse­men. When it was all over Katsuyori’s army of
15,000 had suffered some 10,000 casualties. Katsuyori also lost a dozen of his gen-
erals. Nobunaga’s skillful use of firearms to thwart Takeda’s cavalry is often cited
as a turning point in Japa­nese warfare, indeed the first “modern” ­battle. What is
inaccurate about the movie version: it omits the fact that the ­battle took place in
heavy rain—­which Katsuyori erroneously thought would wet the Nobunagas’
gunpowder and render their muskets useless. A ­ fter his devastating loss at
Nagashino, Katsuyori hung on for another seven years but his fortunes contin-
ued to decline. Katsuyori’s forces w ­ ere fi­nally destroyed by the combined armies
of Nobunaga and Tokugawa at the ­Battle of Temmokuzan in 1582. In the aftermath
Katsuyori, his wife, Hojo Masako, and Nobukatsu, one of his two sons, committed
ritual suicide (seppuku). Daimyōs did indeed use doubles for security purposes but
the story of the thief is pure fiction.

KANAŁ (1957)

Synopsis
Kanał is a Polish war film directed by Andrzej Wajda. The second installment in
Wajda’s War Trilogy—­preceded by A Generation (1954) and followed by Ashes and
Diamonds (1958)—­Kanał tells the story of a com­pany of Home Army re­sis­tance
fighters using the city’s sewers to evade capture by the Nazis as their defensive posi-
tion collapses during the 1944 Warsaw Uprising.

Background
In late July 1944, during World War II, the advancing Red Army had reached the
eastern suburbs of Warsaw, Poland’s capital city. The close proximity of the Rus­
sians prompted the Polish government in exile in London to order its Home Army
(Polish: Armia Krajowa or AK) of re­sis­tance fighters to mount an uprising against
the German occupation. By liberating Warsaw prior to full Rus­sian involvement,
the Poles hoped to bolster claims to national sovereignty before the Soviet-­backed
communist Polish Committee of National Liberation could assume po­liti­cal control
188 K A N A Ł

of the country. Stalin, of course, had other ideas. Avid to annex Poland a­ fter Hitler’s
defeat, he betrayed the Polish re­sis­tance by ordering his armies to halt on the east-
ern banks of the Vistula River and not advance into the city to aid the Poles. This
allowed the Germans time to regroup and destroy the Polish re­sis­tance, which
fought for 63 days with light arms and ­little outside support (1 August–2 October
1944). It is estimated that the AK suffered some 22,000 casualties (16,000 killed
and 6,000 wounded) and 150,000 to 200,000 civilians died. Arthur Koestler
called the Soviet refusal to support the uprising “one of the major infamies of this
war which ­w ill rank for the ­f uture historian on the same ethical level with [the
Nazi extermination of] Lidice” (Koestler, p. 374). A ­ fter the war Warsaw native
Jerzy Stefan Stawiński (1921–2010)—­who served as an AK com­pany commander
during the Uprising—­published “Kanał” (Polish for channel or sewer) in the Pol-
ish literary journal Twórczość [Creativity]: a story based on his own, ­bitter experi-
ences during the doomed strug­gle that he soon turned into a film script. A ­ fter Stalin
died in 1953, his successor, Nikita Khrushchev, relaxed censorship and other forms
of po­liti­cal repression. “Khrushchev’s Thaw” spilled over to Poland and the other
Soviet client states, making a film on the Warsaw Uprising po­liti­cally feasible. Even
though “Kanał” refrained from indicting Rus­sian complicity in the defeat of the
Uprising, Poland’s Soviet-­dominated po­liti­cal leadership did not want it made. In
the words of the film’s eventual director, Andrzej Wajda, “The authorities must have
realized that society would be against the movie, and would regard it as the com-
munist voice on the subject of the Warsaw uprising . . . ​It preferred not to make any
film on the subject of the Warsaw Uprising, even one with a point of view they
could accept as their own” (quoted by James Steffen, n.d.). Submitted to the govern-
ment for vetting, the script was also deemed insufficiently heroic. Eventually the
film was made ­because Tadeusz Konwicki, a member of the screenplay commission
and an official of Kadr, a new film studio, lobbied b­ ehind the scenes on its behalf.

Production
Kanał was made by P. P. Film Polski at Kadr Studios and on location in Warsaw in
1956. Some of the above-­ground scenes w ­ ere shot in the studio, but most w ­ ere
filmed on location at ruins that had not yet been demolished ­after the war. Scenes
that comprise the film’s first 45 minutes w ­ ere shot at Cecilia Sniegocka Street and
in an adjacent park in the Solec district, a mile northeast of Mokotów, and the
10-­minute closing sequence was shot beneath Kamienne Schodki [Street of Stone
Steps] and on Miadowa and Długa Streets in Warsaw’s Old Town. For the scenes
in the sewers, Wajda and his crew constructed an elaborate replica of the sewers,
and Wajda’s director of photography, Jerzy Lipman, provided the evocatively eerie
noir-­like chiaroscuro lighting for ­those episodes.

Plot Summary
During the final days of the Warsaw Uprising (late September 1944), Lt. Zadra
(Wieńczysław Gliński) leads a beleaguered platoon of 43 AK soldiers and Warsaw
civilians in retreat to south-­central Warsaw. The composer Michał (Vladek
KANAŁ
189

Sheybal) gets in touch with his f­amily, who are elsewhere in the city. Panicked,
she shares that the Germans are in her building and are coming to take her, and
then she is cut off. The next day, Officer Cadet Jacek “Korab” (Tadeusz Janczar)
happens upon the second-­in-­command, Lt. Mądry (Emil Karewicz), in bed with a
local messenger girl. ­A fter apologizing, the officers go to ­battle against the Ger-
mans. While they hold them off, Korab is shot and wounded while cutting the
guide wire of a Goliath tracked mine (a remote-­controlled miniature tank full of
explosives) with a shovel. With his platoon now down to 27 and covered on all
sides by the Germans, Zadra is commanded to take to the sewers in order to
retreat. Stokrotka (Polish for “Daisy”) (Teresa Izewska), their guide, asks Zadra to
permit her to help Korab. Zadra gives his consent but Stokrotka and Korab soon
get separated from the group. Korab’s injuries have weakened him, and he is
forced to rest before climbing up to the street. Stokrotka then directs them ­toward
the river, and they see rays of sunlight ahead. Korab, extremely weak and near
blind, is unable to see that the pair’s exit is blocked by metal bars. Stokrotka con-
fesses her love for Korab while they rest and regroup. Meanwhile, the rest of the
group gets lost, as they ­h aven’t had Stokrotka to guide them. Zadra attempts to
command Sgt. Kula (Tadeusz Gwiazdowski) to move the troops forward, but they
refuse. Zadra and Kula lose all of their men except the mechanic, Smukły (Stani-
slaw Mikulski). The men who have not followed Zadra and Kula get lost again and
eventually end up dead or captured. Zadra, Kula, and Smukły encounter a sewer
exit but it is booby-trapped by German grenades. Smukły is only able to disarm two
of the three grenades; the third one explodes, killing him. Zadra and Kula fi­nally
come up from the sewer to an abandoned and bombed-­out part of the city. When
Kula admits that he left the other men ­behind, Zadra kills him and returns to the
sewers to find them.

Reception
Released in Poland on 20 May 1957, Kanał was a punishing but ultimately cathar-
tic experience for ­those who had lived through the terrible, tragic events it depicts.
In the words of film critic and Warsaw Uprising survivor Stanislaw Grzelecki, “The
tragedy of the ­people who believed to the very end that the fight they had under-
taken [was] right has found disturbing expression in Wajda’s film. The drama
assumes a shape of a meta­phor, all the more meaningful b ­ ecause its ordinary heroes
have been, for many years, forced into the shadows, into silence, to endure the mud-
slinging, false accusations and slander” (Grzelecki, 1957). Other Polish critics, not
as understanding as Grzelecki, initially panned the film for its unheroic grimness.
Kanał was screened in competition at the 10th Cannes Film Festival (May 1957),
where it shared the Special Jury Prize with Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal and
received rave notices from French film critics, international recognition that
prompted a more positive reassessment at home. Released in the United States in
­ ouse cinemas. Bosley Crowther found Kanał
1961, the film briefly ran in a few art h
as “dismal, dark and depressing a drama of events in World War II as this reviewer
has yet witnessed” (Crowther, 1961).
190 KILLING FIELDS, THE

Reel History Versus Real History


The plot of Kanał is fictional but the general story it tells about the final days of the
Uprising is historically very accurate. As depicted in the film, by the end of Sep-
tember 1944, German forces had retaken most of the city. AK fighters ­were hold-
ing out in five isolated pockets, including an area within the suburb of Mokotów
that was less than a mile long and half a mile wide, defended by about 2,750 insur-
gents. On 24 September 1944 German forces mounted an offensive against the
Mokotów pocket from the south. Over the next three days of heavy fighting, the
Polish defense perimeter shrank to just a few blocks as advancing Germans exe-
cuted wounded soldiers, even hospital personnel. On 26 September 9,000 civil-
ians fled Mokotów during a two-­hour early after­noon cease fire. That eve­ning, as
depicted in the film, some 800 re­sis­tance fighters and civilians, many wounded,
started evacuating through the sewers and headed for the city center, about two
miles due north (Mokotów fell the next day and the Germans captured some 1,500
remaining fighters and 5,000 civilians). As also represented in the film, some AK
fighters (actually about 150) headed in the wrong direction and unwittingly climbed
out of the sewers at Dworkowa Street, in German-­held territory half a mile to the
southeast of Mokotów; 120 of them ­were captured and summarily executed.
A monument now stands t­here in their memory. A ­ ctual conditions in the sewers
­were e­ very bit horrific as the film shows. In his review of the film (cited earlier),
Stanislaw Grzelecki observed, “I followed the same underground road from Mokotów
to the centre of town as Jerzy Stawiński, and I, like he, spent seventeen hours in the
sewers. I saw and experienced enough to state that Wajda’s film is telling the truth.”

KILLING FIELDS, THE (1984)

Synopsis
The Killing Fields is a British war drama written by Bruce Robinson, directed by
Roland Joffé and produced by David Puttnam. Starring Sam Waterston, Haing S.
Ngor, Julian Sands, and John Malkovich, the film concerns the experiences of two
journalists who are close friends—­Cambodian Dith Pran and American Sydney
Schanberg—­after the Khmer Rouge take over Cambodia in the 1970s.

Background
In 1976 New York Times journalist Sydney Schanberg won a Pulitzer Prize for report-
ing on the fall of Cambodia to the genocidal Khmer Rouge in 1975. Four years
­later Schanberg published “The Death and Life of Dith Pran” (1980), a long article
about the astonishing survival of Dith Pran, a Cambodian friend and colleague of
Schanberg who managed to escape from the Khmer Rouge ­after a long captivity
and find safety in Thailand in October 1979. British producer David Puttnam
(Chariots of Fire) read the article and knew immediately he wanted to make a film
version of Pran’s story. Puttnam bought the film rights and eventually secured a
$16 million bud­get: $8 million from Goldcrest Films (London); $4 million from
foreign distributors, tax shelters, and a UK government fund; and $4 million
KILLING FIELDS, THE 191

from Warner Bros. Actor-­screenwriter Bruce Robinson (Withnail and I) wrote a


300-­page draft of a screen adaptation, which Puttnam showed to vari­ous directors
(including Louis Malle and Constantin Costa-­Gavras) but was particularly taken
by the reaction of British TV director Roland Joffé, who said that it w
­ asn’t a war
story but actually a love story between Dith Pran and Sydney Schanberg—­a remark
that won him his first assignment as a feature film director. Regarding the casting
of an actor to play Sydney Schanberg, Warner Bros. wanted a big star but Puttnam
settled on Sam Waterston. Equipped with the right ethnicity, looks, and Mas­sa­chu­
setts accent, Waterston happily lacked the distracting baggage of a famous star.
Though he had no formal acting training, Dr. Haing S. Ngor was cast as Dith
Pran. A native Cambodian just two years older than Pran, Ngor had also endured
and escaped from Khmer Rouge captivity; no ordinary actor could have brought
more authenticity to the role.

Production
The Killing Fields was shot in fits and starts between March 1983 and August 1984,
mostly on location in Thailand but also in Toronto, New York City, and California.
Shots involving large he­li­cop­ters in the scene where Pran’s ­family and other inter-
national diplomats are evacuated from Phnom Penh in 1975 ­were actually filmed
in San Diego in early 1984, almost seven months ­after principal photography in
Thailand.

Plot Summary
The setting is Cambodia’s capital, Phnom Penh, 6 August 1973. The Cambodian
army is fighting a civil war with the Khmer Rouge (Communist Party of Kampu-
chea), a conflict instigated by the war in neighboring Vietnam. Dith Pran (Haing
S. Ngor), a Cambodian photojournalist and newspaper interpreter, waits for reporter
Sydney Schanberg to arrive at the airport, but is called away unexpectedly. Schan-
berg goes to his h­ otel and meets up with Al Rockoff (John Malkovich). Pran l­ater
connects with Schanberg and reveals that an American B-52 has bombed the town
of Neak Leung, killing and wounding hundreds of civilians. Schanberg and Pran
then travel to Neak Leung and confirm that the town has been completely deci-
mated. Two years l­ater, in April 1975, Phnom Penh empties its embassies, know-
ing the Khmer Rouge is nearby and ruthless. Schanberg arranges to evacuate Pran,
his wife, and their four ­children; however, Pran demands to remain ­behind to assist
his friend. Khmer Rouge forces enter and occupy the capital. Schanberg encoun-
ters Rockoff at a city parade. Afterwards, a party of Khmer Rouge fighters finds
and arrests them, transporting them to a back alley in the city where captives are
being executed. They are l­ater met by a detachment of the Khmer Rouge, who
immediately arrest them and take them through the city to a back alley where
prisoners are being executed. Pran negotiates on behalf of his comrades and uses
his sway as a Cambodian civilian to secure their release. The men go to the French
Embassy for help, but the Khmer Rouge want all Cambodians handed over to them.
Concerned that Pran ­w ill fall victim to imprisonment or death ­after the embassy
is overtaken, Rockoff and British press photographer Jon Swain (Julian Sands) of
192 KILLING FIELDS, THE

The Sunday Times try to forge a British passport for Pran, but their forgery proves
in­effec­tive when Pran’s image on the passport photo fades away. Pran is handed to
the Khmer Rouge. Schanberg returns to New York City and rallies support for a
campaign to rescue Pran. Meanwhile, in Cambodia, Pran serves as a slave laborer
­under the Khmer Rouge’s “Year Zero” policy: an attempt to return to the agrarian
ways of the past. Pran also takes mandatory propaganda classes, getting by on his
ability to fake being simple-­minded. During an attempted escape, Pran comes
across a pile of muddy wreckage that turns out to be rotting ­human bodies—­part
of the “killing fields” u
­ nder Pol Pot, where nearly 2 million Cambodians w ­ ere ruth-
lessly murdered. In 1976, Schanberg receives a Pulitzer Prize for his coverage in
Cambodia. He assigns half of the award to Pran. At the ac­cep­tance dinner he tells
the audience that half the recognition for the award belongs to Pran. Rockoff ­later
incites Schanberg for not pursuing ­every pos­si­ble lead in the search for Pran. Schan-
berg feels incredibly guilty about his failed search attempts and admits that Pran
likely stayed in Cambodia b ­ ecause he “wanted him to stay.” In Cambodia, Pran is
assigned to Phat (Monirak Sisowath), the commander of a dif­fer­ent prison com-
pound, and charged with tending to Phat’s young son (Lambool Dtangpaibool).
Pran proceeds with acting like an uneducated peasant, refusing to show his captors
the true breadth of his knowledge. Phat even asks Pran to take charge of his son
in the event that he is killed in b ­ attle. By now, Khmer Rouge units are in the midst
of a border war with Vietnam. The conflict reaches Pran’s region, and a b ­ attle
ensues between the Khmer Rouge of the compound and two jet fighters sent to
destroy the camp. A ­ fter the fighting ends (momentarily), Pran is told that Phat’s
son has both American money and a map that w ­ ill lead the men to safety. Phat
attempts to stop the younger Khmer Rouge officers from ending the lives of his
friends, but he is killed in response. During the shooting, Pran and four fellow
prisoners get away. The group then starts a long journey through the wilderness
with Phat’s younger son. Pran and his companion follow Phat’s map, but the com-
panion unknowingly trips a landmine while holding the younger child. Pran begs
his companion to hand over the child, but the mine explodes, killing both man
and child. Pran grieves as he presses onward. Eventually he reaches the top of an
escarpment in the Dângrêk Mountains and spies a Red Cross camp near the bor-
der of Thailand. Informed of Pran’s miraculous survival, Schanberg calls Pran’s
­family with the news that Pran is alive and safe. Soon ­after, Schanberg travels to the
Red Cross camp, is re­united with Pran, and asks Pran to forgive him. Pran answers,
with a smile, “Nothing to forgive, Sydney. Nothing,” as the two embrace.

Reception
The Killing Fields enjoyed substantial success at the box office; by the end of its
22-­week domestic run (2 November 1984–7 April 1985) it had earned $34.6 million.
The movie also won numerous awards. Nominated for seven Oscars, it won three—­
for Best Supporting Actor (Haing S. Ngor), Best Cinematography (Chris Menges),
and Best Film Editing (Jim Clark). The Killing Fields also won a Golden Globe and
eight BAFTAs. Reviews w ­ ere mixed and not quite commensurate with the film’s
KILLING FIELDS, THE 193

box office and awards success. For example, Vincent Canby wrote, “The Killing Fields
is a faithful adaptation . . . ​Yet something vital is missing, and that’s the emotional
intensity of Mr. Schanberg’s first-­person prose. The movie is diffuse and wander-
ing. It’s someone telling a long, in­ter­est­ing story who ­can’t get to the point” (Canby,
1984). The film’s use of John Lennon’s utopian anthem “Imagine” as its closing
theme, underscoring the moment when Schanberg and Pran are re­united, also gen-
erated some controversy. Some commentators found the juxtaposition deeply
affecting or cleverly ironic, whereas o­ thers denounced it as nauseatingly sentimen-
tal and pretentious.

Real History Versus Real History


In general terms, The Killing Fields is a faithful adaptation of Sydney Schanberg’s
account of the fall of Cambodia, his relationship with Dith Pran, and Pran’s sub-
sequent survival odyssey. Yet the movie’s emphasis on the “love story” between
Schanberg and Dith Pran is problematic in several ways. First of all, it tends to
gloss over the po­liti­cal complexities that led to genocide in Cambodia. For exam-
ple, Lon Nol (1913–1985), the Cambodian general whose pro-­American military
government ruled his country for five years (1970–75) u ­ ntil it was overwhelmed
by the Khmer Rouge, is mentioned only once and in passing. Inexplicably, Pol Pot
(1925–1998), diabolical leader of the Khmer Rouge from 1963 u ­ ntil 1997, is not
mentioned at all. The film’s focus on the relationship between Schanberg and Pran
also has the effect of mostly casting them as passive victims of vague, sweeping
historical forces rather than depicting them as the hardworking, risk-­taking jour-
nalists that they w
­ ere. And, as some film critics have noted, the film’s central nar-
rative dynamic, the story of an enduring friendship, is not entirely effective on its
own terms. Furthermore, that story may be exaggerated or worse. American pho-
tojournalist Al Rockoff—­the only surviving principal in Schanberg’s Cambodia
chronicles who refused to be involved with the film’s production—­has gone on
rec­ord denouncing the late Sydney Schanberg as “a coward who put other ­people’s
lives in danger.” Rockoff also alleges that Schanberg “used and abused Dith Pran
and personally tried to have me thrown out of the safety of the French Embassy in
April 1975.” Rockoff also suspects that Schanberg destroyed his ­career as a photo-­
journalist by having him blacklisted: “Schanberg left on the first convoy out of the
French Embassy and asked me for the rolls of film that I’d shot. When I told him
that I was on day rate for Newsweek and that he could only have the pictures they
­didn’t want he said ‘See if the New York Times ever runs any of your stuff again.’ ”
In the end Newsweek only ran three of Rockoff’s photos. Upon his return to the
U.S. Rockoff was relegated to the journalistic margins, the vast majority of his work
unseen (Kyne and Rockoff, p. 5). In the scene depicting Schanberg’s Pulitzer Prize
award night, the movie does acknowledge Rockoff’s bitterly contrarian point of
view and even gives it some credence, but the overall thrust of the movie contra-
dicts Rockoff’s moral indictment as a minority opinion.
194 K I N G R AT

K I N G R AT ( 1 9 6 5 )

Synopsis
King Rat is an American war film directed by Bryan Forbes, which he adapted from
James Clavell’s 1962 novel of the same title—­which is, in turn, partly based on
Clavell’s own experiences as a prisoner of war (POW) at Changi Prison during the
Second World War. Starring George Segal in the title role and featuring James Fox,
John Mills, and Tom Courtenay, the film focuses on Cpl. King (aka “King Rat”), a
wheeler-­dealer American POW who incurs the enmity of Marlowe (Fox), a British
officer.

Background
During World War II James Clavell (1921–1994), a captain with the British Royal
Artillery, became a POW when Allied forces on the island of Java surrendered to
the Japa­nese on 12 March 1942. Clavell spent the rest of the war—­almost three
and a half brutal years of near-­starvation—at Changi, a notorious Japa­nese POW
camp on Singapore. In 1953 Clavell immigrated to Hollywood from ­England and
developed a successful ­career as a screenwriter but lingering war memories haunted
him. In a 12-­week period during the long Writers’ Guild strike of 1960, Clavell
wrote King Rat, a long fictional saga loosely based on his Changi POW ordeal
15 years earlier. ­After many rejections and judicious cutting and revising, King Rat
was published in 1962 and became a critically acclaimed international bestseller.
Sol Schwartz, a vice president at Columbia Pictures, purchased the film rights five
months before King Rat was published, and British filmmaker Bryan Forbes was
hired to write an adaptation and to direct the film. Columbia considered Vince
Edwards, Steve McQueen, Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando, Paul Newman, Tony Cur-
tis, and many o­ thers for the lead role of Cpl. King but ultimately signed newcomer
George Segal (Ship of Fools) in July 1964.

Production
Before shooting could commence, producer James Woolf had to build a realistic
replica of the Changi POW camp and environs. Over a seven-­week period in the
summer of 1964 some 200 carpenters, electricians, and other workers constructed
the concrete prison building (56 feet high and 60 feet wide), and 52 adjacent
thatched huts on a seven-­acre site near Westlake Village in the San Fernando Valley,
about 37 miles west of Los Angeles. A half-­million board feet of lumber was used, as
well as 45,000 square feet of Gunite (pneumatically sprayed concrete for the prison’s
walls), 4,000 gallons of paint, and six miles of barbed wire. The elaborate set cost
$375,000 ($2.9 million in 2017 dollars) to build. Attention to detail yielded superla-
tive results; James Clavell visited the set and was impressed at how much it looked
like the real camp at Changi. The filming of King Rat took place in the fall of 1964.

Plot Summary
Conditions at the Changi POW camp in Singapore are exceedingly harsh. Tropi-
cal heat and humidity, overcrowding, disease, starvation, and brutal guards
K I N G R AT 195

make survival a constant strug­gle for its 10,000 inmates. Yet  U.S. Army Cpl.
King (George Segal), one of only a handful of Americans among mostly British
and Australian POWs, maintains his own health and even thrives. He does so
by r­ unning lucrative black market schemes, one of which is to breed rats and
sell them as food to his fellow prisoners, hence his nickname, “King Rat.” King
recruits Flight Lt. Peter Marlowe (James Fox), an upper-­class British RAF officer,
to act as his translator (Marlowe knows Malay and can barter with the corrupt
camp guards). Marlowe grows fond of King, admiring his ruthless opportunism
and cunning. King seems to re­spect Marlowe, but it is unclear how he truly feels
about him. When Marlowe injures his arm, his new officer secures antibiotics in
order to keep Marlowe’s sickly limb from amputation. In contrast to Marlowe
the British Provost Marshal, Lt. Robin Grey (Tom Courtenay) considers King
aloathsome American renegade, immoral and conniving, and relentlessly tries
to engineer King’s downfall. But Grey has his own issues to resolve: one of his
officers is stealing from the food rations. The officer attempts to bribe Grey, but
he brings the issue to his superior, Col. George Smedley-­Taylor ( John Mills).
Smedley-­Taylor informs Grey that the officer in question has been discharged and
tells him to drop the allegations. An angry Grey accuses Smedley-­Taylor of col-
lusion, but he can no longer find the altered scale weight that originally tipped
him off to the corruption. Grey suspects a cover-up, but now has no proof. In an
attempt to placate Grey, Smedley-­Taylor offers him a promotion. The British offi-
cers are then informed that the Japa­nese have surrendered and that the war is
over. The stunned prisoners are jubilant, save for Cpl. King, who has suddenly
lost his celebrity in the camp and now must face a return to “normal” life as a civil-
ian. As King is evacuated with his fellow American prisoners, Marlowe attempts
to solidify his friendship with King. However, the two part on uncertain, unhope-
ful terms.

Reception
Premiering on 27 October 1965, King Rat reached #1 at the box office in the sec-
ond weekend of its release, but the movie did not enjoy sustained commercial
momentum. Though bud­get numbers for King Rat are unknown, the film made at
least $6.7 million in domestic ticket sales: only a modest success. Weaned on more
upbeat, patriotic POW movies (e.g., Stalag 17 and The ­Great Escape), the moviego-
ing public w­ asn’t ready for a film offering so much moral ambiguity. As for awards,
director Bryan Forbes received a BAFTA nomination, and the movie garnered two
Oscar nominations: one for Best Cinematography, Black-­and-­White (Burnett Guffey)
and Best Art Direction-­Set Decoration (Robert Emmet Smith and Frank Tuttle).
Reviews w ­ ere largely positive though many critics noted that the film was bleak
fare, not suitable for the faint of heart. Bosley Crowther termed King Rat a “grim
and lacerating picture” and declared that “anyone who can sit through it without
wincing is a better man than I am, Gunga Din” (Crowther, 1965). Since its initial
release King Rat’s critical reputation has risen dramatically, though it still remains
an undeservedly obscure cult movie.
196 K I N G R AT

Reel History Versus Real History


King Rat is a more or less accurate rendition of its source material, but Clavell always
claimed that his book was pure fiction. In the novel’s preface he states, “­There was
a war. Changi and Outram [Road] jails in Singapore do—or did—­exist. Obviously
the rest of the story is fiction and no similarity to anyone living or dead exists or
is intended.” American historian/biographer Stanley Weintraub begs to differ, pos-
tulating that King Rat’s title character is likely an amalgam of at least three POWs
that Clavell knew (or knew of) at Changi: Eddie MacArthur, a merchant seaman;
Robert  I. “Bob” Martin, a Navy crewman from the sunken USS Houston; and
Albert L. “Buttercup” Carpenter of Battery F of the New Mexico National Guard.
Of the three, Corporal King most closely resembles Buttercup Carpenter. Wein-
traub cites Sir Thomas Howell, RAF (Ret.), a former inmate with Clavell: “He was
by no means so sinister or selfish [as Cpl. King] but [Carpenter] became a ‘skillful
operator’ and as a result of using profits for the benefits of the prisoners he was an
instrument for saving many lives as risk” (Rusinko, 1998, pp. 198–199).
L
L A N D A N D F R E E D O M [ S PA N I S H : T I E R R A Y
L I B E R TA D ] ( 1 9 9 5 )

Synopsis
Land and Freedom (Tierra y libertad) is a film directed by Ken Loach and written by
Jim Allen. It follows the story of David Carr (played by Ian Hart), a member of the
Communist Party of ­Great Britain who travels to Spain to fight for the Republican
side in the Spanish Civil War (1936–1938). Joining a co­ali­tion of socialists, com-
munists, and anarchists waging a losing strug­gle against Francisco Franco’s fascist
forces, Carr experiences po­liti­cal disillusionment as factions of the Left ­battle each
other as well as the e­ nemy.

Background
When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, conservative pundits in the Western
democracies interpreted its demise as incontrovertible proof that capitalism was
the only ­v iable way to or­ga­nize modern socie­ties. As he recalled in a 1995 inter-
view for the World Socialist Website (Allen, 1995), Jim Allen (British film director
Ken Loach’s longtime screenwriter) found this view highly disingenuous: “With
the fall of Stalinism, the coming down of the Berlin Wall, the West said, ‘That’s it.
Communism ­doesn’t work. It’s finished!’ And the likes of Tony Blair and com­pany
jumped on the band wagon. ‘The God has failed. Go back to your factories, your
dole queues and forget it. It’s the f­ree market economy that works.’ We wanted to
show that communism and socialism never existed in the Soviet Union, that Sta-
lin was a monster.” ­After coming across a pamphlet by the International Brigades
Committee in Manchester, Jim Allen persuaded Ken Loach that a Spanish Civil
War film would be the most effective vehicle for debunking the myth of Stalinist
Rus­sia as a “communist” state. Over the next four years, while fundraising (from
British, German, French, and Spanish sources) was in pro­gress, Allen went to Spain
to interview dozens of former members of the POUM (Partido Obrero de Unifi-
cación Marxista [the anti-­Stalinist Workers’ Party of Marxist Unification]), read
every­thing he could find on the war, and frequently debated and developed ideas
with Loach (Anonymous, Teachers Notes, Film Education, n.d.). The script that
fi­nally emerged was based on a number of books: Mary Low and Juan Brea’s Red
Spanish Notebook (1937), Felix Morrow’s Revolution and Counter-­Revolution in Spain
(1938), Abel Paz’s The P ­ eople Armed (1976), Victor Alba and Stephen Schwartz’s
Spanish Marxism Versus Soviet Communism: A History of the P.O.U.M. (1988), and
Burnett Bolloten’s The Spanish Civil War (1991), but George Orwell’s Homage to Cat-
alonia (1938) was the most crucial and closely followed source.
198 LAND AND FREEDOM

Production
Utilizing British and Spanish actors, Land and Freedom was shot largely in sequence
on location during the summer of 1994. The film’s bookend scenes, which depict
David Carr’s death and funeral, w ­ ere shot in Liverpool but most of the film was
shot in the Maestrazgo region of Spain, a mountainous area that spans the border
of Aragón and Castellon 200 miles southwest of Barcelona. Specific locations
include the village of Mirambel in the Teruel province of Aragón, Morella in the
province of Castelló, and Barcelona. Due to severe bud­get constraints, some scenes
key to the history of the war originally earmarked for dramatization could only be
alluded to in conversation. Among t­hose who served as con­sul­tants to ensure
historical veracity ­were Andy Durgan (University of Barcelona), a noted Marxist
historian of the Spanish Civil War; Joan Rocabert, a POUM veteran; and Jesus Gar-
cia, an Abraham Lincoln Brigade veteran.

Plot Summary
Land and Freedom centers on Liverpudlian Dave Carr (Ian Hart), a young, unem-
ployed, and naïve member of the Communist Party of ­Great Britain (CPGB) who
goes to Spain to fight on the Loyalist side. The film actually begins almost 60 years
­later, in present-­day ­England. A ­ fter the el­derly Carr’s death from a heart attack,
his grand­daughter Kim (Suzanne Maddock) discovers a cache of letters in an old
suitcase that Carr wrote to his En­glish girlfriend, Kitty (Angela Clarke) while he
was fighting in Spain in 1936–1937. The film, mostly one extended flashback,
brings t­hose letters to dramatic life. Carr, like George Orwell, travels to Spain to
join the POUM militia in August 1936 and gets some decidedly amateur military
training in Barcelona. Also like Orwell, Carr is provided with an 1896 Mauser r­ ifle
(which ­later explodes in his face) and is sent to the stabilized Aragón front in east-
ern Spain where he fights lice and boredom and joins his comrades in exchanging
taunts with the ­enemy nearby. The action picks up as Carr’s militia unit captures
an ­enemy village, but Lawrence Coogan (Tom Gilroy), a beloved comrade, is killed
in the pro­cess, and a Catholic priest (Ricard Arilla) is executed for aiding the Falan-
gists. ­After a heated argument, Carr’s comrades decide to collectivize the estate
land they have seized. From that point on, though, complications set in as Spain’s
Stalinist-­controlled Loyalist government insists that the POUM militias integrate
into a unified Popu­lar Army—­which ­really means submitting to the po­liti­cal dis-
cipline of Stalin’s Comintern and betraying their revolutionary ideals. Carr’s unit
votes not to integrate, but Carr soon joins the Stalinists, much to the chagrin of
Blanca (Rosanna Pastor), his Spanish quasi-­love interest. ­After a brief stint in Bar-
celona fighting former comrades from the POUM and CNT (Confederación Nacio-
nal Del Trabajo, i.e., anarchists) over control of the city’s telephone exchange
(April–­May 1937), a disillusioned Carr rips up his CPGB membership card and
rejoins the POUM. The film concludes in mid-­June 1937 with Carr’s POUM mili-
tia unit having to retreat on the Huesca front due to lack of promised reinforcement
by Popu­lar Army regulars. To add insult to betrayal, Loyalist government troops
show up a­ fter the ­battle to disarm Carr’s militia unit, arresting its officers for po­liti­
cal apostasy, and shooting Blanca (the very embodiment of revolutionary idealism)
LAND AND FREEDOM 199

dead in the pro­cess. Blanca’s funeral in Spain morphs into Dave Carr’s funeral in
­England almost 60 years ­later. His grand­daughter eulogizes him with two lines
from William Morris’s 1885 poem, “The Day Is Coming”: “Come, join in the only
­battle wherein no man can fail,/Where whoso fadeth and dieth, yet his deed ­shall
still prevail.”

Reception
­After premiering in Spain on 7 April 1995, Land and Freedom was screened at the
50th Cannes Film Festival in May, where it won the Prize of the Ecumenical Jury,
shared the FIPRESCI Prize with Theodoros Angelopoulos’ Ulysses’ Gaze, and was
nominated for Palme d’Or. It also won France’s 1996 César Award for Best For-
eign Film. With distribution limited to art h ­ ouse cinemas, combined box office
gross receipts for Eu­rope, North Amer­i­ca, and other markets was predictably modest
(about £7 million) but the film still made a decent profit, considering that its
production bud­get was only £3 million ($4.47 million). Interestingly, Land and Free-
dom did its best business in France (in depoliticized Amer­i­ca, it ran in only 10
theaters and made a paltry $228,000). Reviews w ­ ere almost universally positive—­
some ­were adulatory. For example, film critic Philip French judged it “among the
finest films of the de­cade” (French, 1995). Although she criticized the land-­use
debate scene mid-­film as bringing the movie’s narrative to a standstill, Caryn James
nonetheless praised Land and Freedom “as admirable and intelligent as any film
around” (James, 1995, C23). German filmmaker Wim Wenders (whose com­pany,
Road Movies, was one of the co-­producers of a number of Loach films, including
Land and Freedom) confessed that he cried “his heart out” by the end of the movie
(Wenders, 2003).

Reel History Versus Real History


An inherently po­liti­cal war film, Land and Freedom rekindled the sorts of fierce par-
tisan debates over the conduct and meaning of the Spanish Civil War that raged
during the 1930s. Arguments flared over the movie’s implicit premise (which is
also George Orwell’s central premise in Homage to Catalonia): that Soviet commu-
nist influence hamstrung the International Brigades and fractured and debilitated
the Loyalist war effort overall, handing victory to Franco in the name of Stalinist
party discipline. John Dunlop, a British International Brigade volunteer from
May 1937 to December 1938, denounced Land and Freedom as historically inaccurate
in small and large ways. A ­ fter taking issue with costume anachronisms (e.g., blue
jeans and Doc Martins) in the movie, Dunlop found fault with Dave Carr join-
ing the POUM on arrival in Spain: “By November 1936 all volunteers crossing the
frontier ­were [eventually] taken . . . ​to Albacete, where they ­were documented and
received into the International Brigades. So the naive depiction of how the young
Liverpool Communist Party member was persuaded by complete strangers to join
the POUM militia was a virtual impossibility.” Yet Dunlop’s assertion is contradicted
by George Orwell’s experience as a British anti-­fascist volunteer who joined POUM
upon his arrival in Spain in December 1936. Modeled on Orwell’s story, Dave Carr’s
POUM affiliation is used as a plot device meant to provide him (and viewers)
200 LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE

with a critical perspective on Stalinist influence on the International Brigades. A


departure from Orwell’s book, which the film other­w ise closely follows, has Carr
temporarily joining the communists against POUM and the anarchists during the
street fighting in Barcelona and then regretting his apostasy in order to dramatize
the Stalinist betrayal of true revolutionary ideals. But what Orwell, Jim Allen,
and Ken Loach see as totalitarian treachery that foiled hopes for a truly egalitarian
society, Dunlop sees as a pragmatic closing of the ranks against a power­ful fascist
­enemy. In Dunlop’s view, “The Government with the support of the Communists
[was] determined to create a unified command. This was opposed by the Anar-
chists and the POUM” (Dunlop, n.d.). The two views remain irreconcilable.

LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE (1992)

Synopsis
The Last of the Mohicans is an American war epic mostly based on George B. Seitz’s
1936 film adaptation of James Fenimore Cooper’s eponymous 1826 novel. Directed,
co-­produced, and co-­w ritten by Michael Mann, the film stars Daniel Day-­Lewis,
Madeleine Stowe, Jodhi May, Russell Means, and Wes Studi and follows the fate of
a group of British American colonials during the French and Indian War (1757).

Background
James Fenimore Cooper’s novel, The Last of the Mohicans (1826), the second of his
Leatherstocking Tales, was an improbable and turgidly written frontier adventure
set in the Adirondacks during the second year of the French and Indian War (1757)
that nonetheless proved to be Cooper’s most popu­lar and iconic work. Indeed, The
Last of the Mohicans defined the image of the early American settler and Native
American in the popu­lar imagination and spawned no fewer than nine film adap-
tations, four TV versions, a radio version, an opera version, and three comics ver-
sions in the 20th and early 21st centuries. The best of ­these renditions is director
Michael Mann’s 1992 film version, a movie with an exceptionally long gestation
period of 40 years. When Mann was a preschooler in Chicago c.1949, he saw the
1936 film version of Last of the Mohicans starring Randolph Scott as Hawkeye—an
experience that sparked a lifelong interest in the saga. A ­ fter making five feature
films in the 1970s and 1980s, mostly neo-­noir, Mann acquired the rights to Philip
Dunne’s 1936 Last of the Mohicans script in 1990, easily won funding approval from
20th Century-­Fox, and then undertook a new adaptation, co-­w ritten with Cristo-
pher Crowe, using Dunne’s script as their template, not Cooper’s novel. Mann cast
Daniel Day-­Lewis (who had just won an Oscar for My Left Foot) in the lead role as
Hawkeye and then sent him to U.S. Army Col. David Webster, an officer at Fort
Bragg who taught pi­lots wilderness survival skills. Webster took Day-­Lewis to Many
Hawks Special Operations Center in Pittsview, Alabama, and had him work with
wilderness expert Mark A. Baker, who put him through a rigorous training program
in marksmanship, hunting, trapping, and all the other proficiencies involved in liv-
ing off the land—­a skill set that Hawkeye would have had. Being the consummate
LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE 201

Method actor, Day-­Lewis bulked up and worked hard to master it all, then stayed
in character on set by avoiding modern technology, rolling his own cigarettes, trav-
eling by canoe, and keeping his muzzle-­loading .40-­caliber Pennsylvania flintlock
­rifle close at hand at all times. Dale Dye of Warriors, Inc., the military advisor for
Platoon, Casualties of War, and many other war films, provided technical assistance
on set.

Production
For the shoot (which ran 15 weeks, from 17 June–10 October 1991), Michael Mann
was a stickler for authenticity in the reproduction of period hairstyles, tattoos,
beadwork, costumes, uniforms, flags, canoes, weapons, fortifications, ­etc. He also
insisted on hiring hundreds of Native Americans to portray their colonial-­era breth-
ren, most notably Russell Means (1939–2012), an Oglala/Lakota Sioux Indian and
first national director of the American Indian Movement (AIM), who portrays
Hawkeye’s close friend, Chingachgook, in the movie. Dennis Banks, a Chippewa
Indian and a close associate of Russell Means in AIM, plays Hawkeye’s friend, Onge-
wasgone. Wes Studi (Dances with Wolves), the actor who portrays the villainous
Magua, is a member of the Cherokee tribe. Though Cooper’s novel is set in the
vicinity of Lake George, Michael Mann chose to film in the Blue Ridge Mountains
near Ashville, North Carolina (900 miles to the southwest), in order to better rep-
licate 18th-­century New York State ­because the area around Asheville more closely
resembles the untouched old-­growth forests of 1757. Some scenes ­were shot at Bilt-
more, George Vanderbilt’s North Carolina estate south of Asheville, while other
scenes ­were shot in nearby DuPont State Recreational Forest. The real Fort Wil-
liam Henry was located on the southern end of Lake George in New York’s Adiron-
dack Mountains, but for the movie, a full-­scale facsimile of the fort was built at the
northern end of Lake James, in Lake James State Park, about 40 miles east of Ashe-
ville. Another set built for the movie was the Indian village where Magua takes his
captives (Major Heyward and the Munro s­ isters). The location is 30 miles south-
west of Lake James, in Chimney Rock Park. In the movie the cascading ­waters of
Hickory Nut Falls can be seen overlooking the Indian village. It was at the top of
­these falls where the final fight scene between Chingachgook and Magua was
filmed.

Plot Summary
It is 1757 and the French and Indian War is raging in the Adirondack Mountains.
British Army Major Duncan Heyward (Steven Waddington) arrives in Albany to
serve u­ nder Col. Edmund Munro (Maurice Roëves), the commander of Fort Wil-
liam Henry on Lake George, 60 miles due north. Heyward is ordered to bring the
col­o­nel’s two ­daughters, Cora (Madeleine Stowe) and Alice (Jodhi May), to their
waiting ­father. An old friend of the Munro’s, Heyward professes his love to Cora
and proposes to her. She leaves him without an answer. Major Heyward, the two
­women, and a small detachment of British soldiers march through the forest, guided
by Magua (Wes Studi), a Huron warrior employed by the British as a scout, but
the treacherous Magua soon leads the party into an ambush in the deep woods.
202 LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE

The soldiers are all killed or injured, and Heyward and the w ­ omen in his care are
saved by a Mohican chief named Chingachgook (Russell Means), his son Uncas
(Eric Schweig), and his white, ­adopted son “Hawkeye” (Daniel Day-­Lewis). All who
ambushed the group are eliminated, excepting Magua, who escapes. The trio agrees
to escort the w ­ omen and Heyward to the fort. En route through the forest, Cora
and Hawkeye form an attraction, as do Uncas and Alice. When they arrive near
the fort, they find that it is ­under siege by the French and their Huron allies. The
small party evades ­enemy soldiers and enters the fort where they are greeted by
Col. Munro, who asks Major Heyward about the reinforcements he has requested
but is disappointed to discover that his plea for help never made it to Fort Edward.
Cora and Hawkeye sneak away for a private embrace, and Cora is forced to tell a
jealous Heyward that she ­w ill not be able to become his wife. Munro denies his
soldiers leave to defend their families during the fighting, but Hawkeye sets up their
return journeys anyway. Hawkeye himself stays to be close to Cora and, though
sentenced to death, is saved by a stroke of fate. During a parlay, French General
Louis-­Joseph de Montcalm (Patrice Chéreau) gives the British soldiers a chance to
leave their fort honorably and return home without their guns. Munro assents to
Montcalm’s terms, but Magua rails against the decision. The following day, Col.
Munro, his soldiers, and their w ­ omen and c­ hildren leave the fort and march away
in a long column when Magua and his Huron warriors ambush them from the sur-
rounding woods. Magua kills Munro and cuts out his heart. Hawkeye and the
Mohicans ­battle through, leading Cora, Alice, and Heyward to temporary safety.
­L ater, however, Magua and his braves capture the major and the w ­ omen in a cave
­behind a waterfall (Hawkeye, Chingachgook, and Uncas escape by diving into the
rushing waterfall—­a feat of toughness and athleticism that is too much for their
British companions—­but Hawkeye vows to come back for them). Magua brings
his captives to a Huron settlement and asks its sachem (Mike Phillips) to dictate
their fates—­and is interrupted by Hawkeye, who has come in alone to plead for
their lives. The sachem rules that Heyward must be returned to the British, Alice
given to Magua, and Cora burned alive. Hawkeye’s bravery allows him to leave
unscathed. However, Hawkeye tells translator Heyward to beg the sachem to let
him (Hawkeye) take Cora’s place. But instead, Heyward swaps his own life for Cora’s
life. ­After Cora and Hawkeye are at a safe distance, Hawkeye shoots Heyward to
put him out of his misery as he burns at the stake. Chingachgook, Uncas, and
Hawkeye then go a­ fter Magua’s party to try and f­ree Alice. Uncas fights Magua,
but is killed by his e­ nemy. Alice chooses to step off the cliff in an act of suicide.
While Hawkeye holds Magua’s remaining men at bay, Chingachgook slays Magua
and avenges his son. With Hawkeye and Cora by his side, Chingachgook prays to
the ­Great Spirit to receive Uncas, calling himself “the last of the Mohicans.”

Reception
The world premiere of The Last of the Mohicans was in Paris (where James Feni-
more Cooper lived from 1826–1833) on 26 August 1992. The film had its U.S.
premiere in Los Angeles on 24 September 1992. ­A fter a 12-­week theatrical run
LAST OF THE MOHICANS, THE 203

(widest release: 1,856 theaters), Mohicans grossed $70 million in domestic box office
receipts; the foreign market gross totaled $5.5 million, so overall ticket receipts
came in at $75.5 million. The movie cost $35 to $40 million to make and another
$15 to $20 million to market (considered high by industry standards). In the end,
20th ­Century Fox earned about $15 million in initial profits on a film that cost
$50 to $60 million: a moderate financial success but still impressive for a period
piece (and brisk video rentals ­later added another $25 to $30 million to the studio
coffers). Reviews ­were mostly positive but critics did express some reservations.
For example, Desson Howe wrote: “This is the MTV version of gothic romance, a
glam-­opera of rugged, pretty p ­ eople from long ago. Yet, by its own glossy, Miami
Vice rules, the movie is stirring. Besides, novelist Cooper’s vividly drawn savages
and frontiersmen ­were hardly the stuff of hard-­nosed realism. This movie is the
Cooper pulp of its day” (Howe, 1992).

Reel History Versus Real History


The Last of the Mohicans is historical fiction; it superimposes a fictional plot onto
an a­ ctual historical setting, intermingling fictional characters and events with real
persons and real events. The main characters in the book and all other media ver-
sions (including Michael Mann’s film) are Cooper’s creations. The French and
Indian War—­including the siege and fall of Fort William Henry and the subse-
quent massacre of its evacuees—­are, of course, historical realities. The movie’s
depiction of ­these events is, however, not entirely accurate. In 1757, with hostili-
ties flaring up between Britain and France, Lt. Col. George Monro (sometimes
spelled ‘Munro,’ 1700–1757) was placed in command of 1,500 troops and 850 colo-
nial militiamen at Fort William Henry on Lake George in the British Province of
New York. On 3 August 1757 Louis-­Joseph de Montcalm, Marquis de Saint-­Veran
(1712–1759), leading an 8,000-­man force of French Army regulars and Indian allies,
began to lay siege to Fort William Henry by crossfire artillery bombardment. Effec-
tively cut off from Gen. Daniel Webb’s main British force ­after Webb refused to
send reinforcements, Monro’s small garrison stood l­ ittle chance against a foe more
than four times its size and with many more guns. As depicted in the film, a­ fter a
week of steady battering and mounting casualties, Monro was forced to open nego-
tiations with Montcalm on 9 August. Monro’s stout defense won him generous
surrender terms; he was able to negotiate safe passage for his troops (who ­were
allowed to keep their weapons but no ammunition) to Fort Edward, about 16 miles
to the south. However, Montcalm’s Indian allies did not honor the terms of sur-
render. As Monro led his defeated troops away from Fort William Henry, the Indi-
ans attacked his column, leaving an estimated 185 dead. In the movie, Montcalm
secretly meets with Magua and gives him tacit permission to massacre Monro’s
soldiers—­a massacre that is on a much greater and deadlier scale than the a­ ctual
one—­and Magua personally murders Monro. Actually, ­there’s no firm evidence that
Montcalm colluded with his Indian allies to permit or abet the massacre of
Monro’s retreating troops, though the issue continues to be hotly debated by his-
torians. Furthermore, Monro actually survived the massacre but died suddenly
204 LAST SAMURAI, THE

of apoplexy three months ­later, on 3 November  1757, at Albany. For dramatic


purposes, Cooper gave Monro two d ­ aughters. In real­ity, he never married and had
no ­children.

LAST SAMURAI, THE (2003)

Synopsis
The Last Samurai is an American period war epic directed and co-­produced by
Edward Zwick, who also co-­w rote the screenplay with John Logan and Marshall
Herskovitz. Tom Cruise portrays a U.S. 7th Cavalry Regiment officer who becomes
a mercenary soldier battling samurai warriors in the wake of the Meiji Restoration
in late 19th-­century Japan.

Background
In 1992 screenwriter Michael Alan Eddy completed “West of the Rising Sun,” a
script about an American Civil War veteran who joins up with a samurai and helps
him lead a c­ attle drive to a starving city in Japan. Eddy sold his script to producer
Scott Kroopf of Radar Pictures in 1995. A ­ fter several rewrites, Kroopf hired New
Zealand–­born screenwriter Vincent Ward to write another draft and co-­produce
the film. Both Kroopf and Ward bowed out in 1997 to pursue other proj­ects, so
Edward Zwick (Glory; Courage ­Under Fire) took over as director. Zwick had seen
Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai (1954) when he was a teenager in Illinois and
had been fascinated by Japa­nese culture ever since; he saw Eddy’s script as the
vehicle for a Japan-­themed movie he had long envisioned. Zwick spent the next
two years developing “West of the Rising Sun,” which went through further rewrites
by Garner Simmons and Robert Schenkkan before Zwick dropped the “Rising Sun”
proj­ect in f­avor of collaborating on a related story about the end of the feudal era
in Japan with his longtime production partner Marshall Herskovitz and screen-
writer John Logan (Gladiator). Zwick did, however, retain involvement with Kroopf
and Ward at Radar Pictures. The new script that Zwick, Herskovitz, and Logan
began developing in late 1999 was inspired by the 1877 Satsuma Rebellion, a revolt
against Japan’s imperial government by disaffected samurai led by Saigō Takamori
(1828–1877). To a lesser extent Zwick and his co-­w riters ­were also influenced by
the stories of Jules Brunet (1838–1911), a French army captain who fought along-
side Enomoto Takeaki (1836–1908) in the Boshin War (aka Japa­nese Revolution,
1868–1869), a civil war between forces of the ruling Tokugawa shogunate and ­those
seeking to return po­liti­cal power to the Imperial Court during the period of the
Meiji Restoration. Another source was the story of Frederick Townsend Ward
(1831–1862), an American mercenary who helped Westernize the Chinese army
by forming and then leading the Ever Victorious Army during the Taiping Rebellion
(1850–1864) u ­ ntil he was killed in b
­ attle. In 2000 Tom Cruise, who shared an
interest in Japa­nese culture with Edward Zwick, signed on to play the lead role of
Capt. Algren and spent almost two years in preparation for the film, including his-
torical research, Japa­nese language lessons, and swordplay instruction.
LAST SAMURAI, THE 205

Production
Filming of The Last Samurai took place over a seven-­month period (10 Octo-
ber 2002–9 May 2003) in the United States, Japan, and New Zealand. The open-
ing scene, set in San Francisco, when Algren walks past cable cars, was actually
filmed on the “New York Street” set in the Warner Bros. Studios backlot in Bur-
bank, with the view of the bay added digitally. Another early scene, where Nathan
Algren is introduced to Omura, was filmed in the Moorish Room of the C ­ astle
Green Restaurant in Pasadena, California. Scenes at Katsumoto’s ­temple ­were filmed
at Sho-­sha-­zan Engyo-ji ­Temple in Himeji City, about 30 miles west of Kobe, Japan.
Scenes supposedly taking place at the Imperial Palace of the Emperor Meiji in Tokyo
­were actually shot at the 400-­year-­old Chion-­In ­Temple in Kyoto. The rest of the
film was shot in the Taranaki region on New Zealand’s North Island, a location
chosen ­because Mount Taranaki resembles Mount Fuji, also ­because of copious
forest and farmland resembling pre-­industrial Japan. Much of the filming took place
on the hillsides of the Uruti Valley, where Katsumoto’s village was constructed.
The port where Algren arrives in “Japan” was a set built at New Plymouth, New
Zealand, and the parade ground where Algren trains the Imperial Army conscripts
is at the Pukekura Sports Ground, also in New Plymouth. The “­battle in the fog”
was filmed in Mangamahoe Forest, just outside town. As is his custom, Tom Cruise
did his own stunts for the film. Supporting actor Ken Watanabe also trained
intensely and performed most of his stunts. Over 500 Japa­nese extras trained for
10 days at the Clifton Rugby Grounds in New Plymouth for the climactic ­battle
scenes. Oscar-­w inning New Zealand costume designer Ngila Dickson and her
80-­member team created the Meiji-­era costumes, which included military uniforms
and period dress for the American Indian wars, over 250 sets of samurai armor,
and traditional dress for Japa­nese rural village life and street scenes.

Plot Summary
Former U.S. Army 7th Cavalry Captain Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise) is a morose
alcoholic haunted by his participation in an Army massacre of Native American
men, ­women, and ­children at Washita River in the Oklahoma territory during the
American Indian Wars. ­A fter being fired from his job selling Winchester ­r ifles,
Algren is approached by his former commanding officer, Col. Bagley (Tony Gold-
wyn), with a job offer: to train the newly formed Imperial Japa­nese Army for
Japa­nese businessman Omura (Masato Harada), who requires an army to sup-
press a samurai-­led insurrection against Japan’s new emperor. Despite loathing
Bagley for his role in the Washita River massacre, Algren needs employment, so
he takes the new assignment and sails to Japan, accompanied by his old friend,
Sgt. Zebulon Gant (Billy Connolly). Upon arriving in Japan, Algren meets Simon
Graham (Timothy Spall), a British translator and samurai expert. Algren soon
discovers that the Imperial soldiers are not well trained and are instead conscripts
with no knowledge of firearms. Before he can adequately train his men, Algren
is told that samurai are staging an assault on one of Omura’s railroads. Omura sends
the army t­here, despite Algren’s protests. The b­ attle quickly turns into a rout when
the conscripts panic and Gant is killed. Algren kills at least eight samurai warriors
206 LAST SAMURAI, THE

before he is surrounded. Expecting to be killed, Algren is surprised when samu-


rai leader Katsumoto (Ken Watanabe) decides to capture him instead and take
him to his village. Deprived of alcohol in captivity, Algren is forced into sobriety.
Though he is initially treated with disdain, Algren eventually gains the re­spect of
the samurai—­and vice versa. As he integrates into samurai culture, Algren learns
Japa­nese and develops a strong identification with the samurai, who chafe at the
advent of modern technology, which has eroded traditional feudalism and ren-
dered them declassed anachronisms. Back at the village, ninjas sneak in and
attempt to kill Katsumoto, but Algren intervenes and saves him. In the ­battle that
follows, Algren defends Katsumoto’s ­family. Katsumoto meets with Emperor Meiji
(Shichinosuke Nakamura) in Tokyo, but is disappointed to see that the young
emperor is Omura’s puppet. During the meeting, Omura has Katsumoto arrested
for carry­ing his sword and suggests that Katsumoto perform ritual suicide to gain
back his honor. He refuses. Algren also refuses Omura’s offer to join his new army
and is set upon by Omura’s assassins. Algren makes quick work of them. Algren
and Katsumoto’s samurai arrive and find some success in their attempt to rescue
Katsumoto, but during the ­battle, Katsumoto’s son, Nobutada (Shin Koyamada),
is wounded and then sacrifices his own life to save his comrades. Pursued by
the Imperial Army, a mourning Katsumoto contemplates the ritual suicide of
seppuku, but is dissuaded by Algren. The samurai use the Imperial Army’s boastful
confidence to lure their soldiers into a trap that neutralizes the advantage of their
firearms. In the ensuing ­battle both sides suffer heavy casualties, but the Impe-
rial soldiers are forced to retreat. Knowing that the soldiers are facing defeat,
Katsumoto ­orders a suicidal charge on h ­ orse­back that breaks through Bagley’s
line. Algren kills Bagley in ­battle but as they rush through the line, they are mowed
down by Gatling guns. The Imperial captain, who had been trained by Algren, is
horrified by the mechanized slaughter; he disregards Omura’s o­ rders and o­ rders
all of the guns to cease firing. A ­dying Katsumoto fi­nally commits seppuku with
assistance from Algren, and the soldiers pres­ent kneel down in re­spect for the
fallen samurai. Days ­later, Algren interrupts trade negotiations at the Imperial Pal-
ace in order to pres­ent the emperor with Katsumoto’s sword, asking him to remem-
ber tradition in his dealings, as Katsumoto would have wanted. As a result, the
emperor turns down the trade offer. Omura protests, but the emperor takes all of
Omura’s wealth and hands it out to the poor.

Reception
The Last Samurai had its world premiere at Roppongi Hills multiplex in Tokyo on
22 November 2003 and its U.S. premiere at Mann Village Theater in Los Angeles
on 1 December 2003. During its 18-­week domestic run (widest release: 2,938 the-
aters), the movie grossed $111 million. Not surprisingly, given its setting and sub-
ject ­matter, The Last Samurai had higher box office receipts in Japan ($119 million)
than in the United States. Worldwide grosses totaled $345.6 million for a g­ rand
total of $456.7 million, versus a $140 million production bud­get: a bona fide block-
buster. The critical response in Japan was generally positive. Tomomi Katsuta of The
Mainichi Shimbun found the film “a vast improvement over previous American
LAST SAMURAI, THE 207

attempts to portray Japan,” praising director Edward Zwick for having “researched
Japa­nese history, cast well-­known Japa­nese actors and consulted dialogue coaches
to make sure he ­didn’t confuse the casual and formal categories of Japa­nese
speech.” Still, Katsuta observed that even “the samurai had some vulgar attri-
butes. Overall, the film [is] a story of an ‘Americanized’ or idealized version of
the samurai, a story of a utopia to Americans” (Katsuta, 2004). In the United States,
Roger Ebert gave the film three and a half stars out of four, saying it was “beauti-
fully designed, intelligently written, acted with conviction, it’s an uncommonly
thoughtful epic” (Ebert, 2003). More discerning critics found the ideological impli-
cations of the movie suspect. As Motoko Rich notes, “Reservations about The Last
Samurai started with reviews that castigated the movie for its stale portrayals of
Japa­nese culture, as well as the patronizing narrative of a white man teaching the
rapidly modernizing Japa­nese how to honor their past. Tom Long, of The Detroit
News, wrote that ‘The Last Samurai pretends to honor a culture, but all it’s ­really
interested in is cheap sentiment, big fights and, above all, star worship. It is a sham,
and further, a shame’ ” (quoted in Rich, 2004).

Reel History Versus Real History


As noted earlier, The Last Samurai draws on disparate events in 19th-­century Amer-
ican and Japa­nese history, making it a mish-­mash historically—­vaguely true in a
generalized way but inaccurate, false, or misleading in many particulars. It is most
certainly true that the U.S. Army committed atrocities against Native Americans
during the Indian Wars; the slaughter that Algren relives in flashback sequences
throughout the film is based on two a­ ctual massacres. The first of t­hese was the
Sand Creek massacre (29 November 1864), in which a 675-­m an force of Colo-
rado U.S. Volunteer Cavalry killed and mutilated an estimated 70 to 163 Native
Americans of the Cheyenne tribe, about two-­thirds of whom ­were ­women and
­children. The second, known as the Washita massacre (27 November  1868),
involved an attack by 574 soldiers of Gen. George Armstrong Custer’s 7th Cavalry
on the same tribe at the Washita River, just west of present-­day Cheyenne, Okla-
homa (350 miles southeast of the Sand Creek massacre site). Custer’s men killed
an estimated 100 to 150, an estimated 40 to 75 of whom w ­ ere ­women and c­ hildren.
Hereafter the history gets fuzzy ­because the film conflates ele­ments from Japan’s
Boshin War (1868–1869) and the Satsuma Rebellion (1877). The fictional Nathan
Algren is based on Jules Brunet, the French army captain who fought on the los-
ing side during the Boshin War (which was also a proxy war between Britain, which
backed the Imperial Court, and France, which backed the Shogunate, i.e., Japan’s
last feudal military government). The figure of Katsumoto, the samurai chieftain,
is anachronistically based on Saigō Takamori, who led the Satsuma Rebellion eight
years a­ fter the end of the Boshin War. Algren could have been at the Washita
massacre and in the Boshin War, but the chronology is tight. The Boshin War ended
27 June 1869—­seven months a­ fter the Washita massacre, but the film shows Algren
involved in the early stages of the war, which started on 27 January 1868—­exactly
10 months before Washita. Transforming the Brunet figure into an American was
obviously a sop to American audiences but not good history. Although it is true
208 L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A

that the United States’ Perry Expedition (1853–1854) forced Japan to abandon its
feudal ways and rapidly modernize—­developments that led to the Boshin War—­
the movie strongly implies that the United States was the primary impetus ­behind
Japan’s Westernization and elides the ­actual Eu­ro­pean imperialist nations that ­were
equally involved (Britain, the Netherlands, and France). As for Katsumoto’s real-­
life inspiration, Saigō Takamori, he ended up committing suicide on 24 Sep-
tember 1877 a­ fter defeat in ­battle, much like his fictional counterpart. The film
accurately portrays the emperor as having a reverential attitude t­oward Katsumoto,
the Takamori figure—an attitude in line with popu­lar sentiment; shortly a­ fter his
death a statue of Takamori was erected in Ueno in northeast Tokyo. It still stands
­today. However, the movie is grossly inaccurate in depicting the samurai as eschew-
ing firearms in f­ avor of traditional weapons (e.g., swords, bows, and lances). As Akira
Kurosawa shows in Kagemusha (1980) and Ran (1985), the samurai started using
tanegashima (the matchlock arquebus) in the ­middle of the 16th ­century—300 years
before the setting of The Last Samurai—­and used firearms into the modern era.

L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A ( 1 9 6 2 )

Synopsis
Lawrence of Arabia is a British-­American war epic co-­produced by Sam Spiegel and
David Lean and directed by Lean, with the screenplay written by Robert Bolt and
Michael Wilson. The film is based on the life of T. E. Lawrence, a British Army
officer who helped lead the successful Arab revolt against Ottoman Turkey during
World War I. Starring Peter O’Toole in the title role, Lawrence of Arabia is widely
regarded as one of the greatest and most influential films in world cinema.

Background
A brilliant and remarkably capable British liaison officer with the rebel forces in
the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Empire in World War I, Thomas Edward Law-
rence (1888–1935) became legendary as “Lawrence of Arabia” ­after his exploits
­were made famous by American journalist Lowell Thomas. The legend was fur-
ther enhanced by Lawrence’s epic autobiography, Seven Pillars of Wisdom, self-­
published in 1926, then published commercially in 1935. In January 1935 British
movie mogul Alexander Korda, who had begun plans for a movie about Lawrence,
met with him, but Lawrence dissuaded Korda from making his film while his sub-
ject was still alive. Ironically, T. E. Lawrence died five months ­later, but financial
constraints and po­liti­cal turmoil in the Mideast caused Korda to abort the film any-
way. Korda tried to revive the proj­ect in 1937, 1938, and 1949 but nothing mate-
rialized. Harry Cohn at Columbia tried again in 1952 but abandoned plans, unable
to satisfy Professor A. W. Lawrence (T. E.’s younger b ­ rother and literary executor),
who demanded script and casting approval. Around the same time playwright
Terence Rattigan approached David Lean with another Lawrence movie script enti-
tled “Ross” (a Lawrence alias) that focused on Lawrence’s alleged homo­sexuality—
an a­ ngle that did not meet with the approval of A. W. Lawrence. A few years ­later
L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A 209

British Captain T. E. Lawrence (Peter O’Toole) leads Arab forces against the Ottoman
Turks in David Lean’s World War I epic, Lawrence of Arabia (1962). (Columbia Pictures/
Photofest)

Rattigan revived his Lawrence proj­ect. This time he won backing from the Rank
Organisation, hired Anthony Asquith as director, and cast Dirk Bogarde in the lead
role, but the proj­ect was derailed in pre-­production by the Iraqi Revolution
(July 1958) that made filming in Iraq impossible. Having worked together on The
Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), producer Sam Spiegel (Columbia Pictures) and David
Lean deci­ded to collaborate again. ­After 25 years of unrealized hopes, a T. E. Law-
rence film proj­ect fi­nally got underway on 11 February 1960, when A. W. Lawrence
sold the rights to Seven Pillars of Wisdom to Sam Spiegel for £22,500 ($63,000). At a
press conference at Claridge’s six days l­ ater Spiegel launched the film and announced
that Marlon Brando would play Lawrence. Having written Bridge on the River Kwai
with Carl Foreman, blacklisted American screenwriter Michael Wilson was hired
(for $100,000) to adapt Seven Pillars to the screen but, unable to satisfy Lean, he
quit a year ­later. Playwright Beverley Cross did some uncredited revision work
­until Lean hired British TV writer Robert Bolt to rewrite the script as a character
study of Lawrence. Many of the characters and scenes w ­ ere contrived by Wilson
but virtually all of the dialogue in the film’s final cut was written by Bolt. Mean-
while, Marlon Brando changed his mind about playing Lawrence, opting instead
to go to Tahiti and play Fletcher Christian in Lewis Milestone’s Mutiny on the
Bounty (1962). Lean considered Anthony Perkins and Montgomery Clift but hired
210 L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A

Albert Finney to play Lawrence a­fter arranging a four-­day screen test in Octo-
ber 1960 that cost £100,000. Unwilling to sign a mandatory long-­term contract,
Finney quit and was replaced by Peter O’Toole, a virtual unknown who strongly
resembled Lawrence (Brownlow, 1996, p. 77). Spiegel’s first choice to play Law-
rence’s closest friend, Sherif Ali, was the French actor Alain Delon, but Delon could
not tolerate brown contact lenses, so the part ultimately went to Egyptian actor
Omar Sharif.

Production
With the completion of most of the casting and extensive location scouting and
preparation, shooting began at Jebel Tubeiq near the border of Jordan and Saudi
Arabia on 25 June 1961, a desolate spot in the Jordanian desert 150 miles from
the nearest oasis that required trucking in thousands of gallons of ­water per day
at 8¢ per gallon. The shoot was scheduled to last 6 months but ended up taking
14 months. Lean’s original intention was to shoot the entire film in Jordan, but
remote desert locations, windblown sand, flies, and extreme heat (up to 130°)
caused lots of cast and crew illnesses, and costs soared. A ­ fter five months in Jor-
dan, Columbia Pictures pressured Sam Spiegel to stem the financial hemorrhag-
ing by moving the production to Spain. The first three months (January–­March 1962)
in Spain w­ ere spent shooting city scenes and interiors in the distinctly Moorish
city of Seville. The Mudéjar pavilion of the Parque de María Luisa in Seville sub-
stituted for Jerusalem. The Plaza de España stood in for Britain’s Egyptian Expe-
ditionary Force Headquarters in Cairo. The Cairo officers’ club scene, where
Lawrence’s young companion is refused a drink ­after crossing the Nefud Desert,
was filmed at Palaçio Español, an arcaded building also in the Plaza de España.
Vari­ous other shots of Seville’s Casa de Pilatos and Alcázar w ­ ere used to represent
Cairo and Jerusalem. The climactic Arab council chamber scene in the town hall
of Damascus was filmed at El Casino, Avenida de María Luisa. In April 1962, a­ fter
three months shooting in Seville, the com­pany moved 250 miles southeast to the
port city of Almería, Andalusia, a region featuring desert terrain, and, on the coast
at Cabo de Gata (Cape of the Cat), the highest and most extensive sand dunes in
Eu­rope that closely resemble the Arabian deserts. The entire com­pany traveled to
Seville by train, along with their lodging trailers, and a 48-­truck convoy transported
the other set pieces, costumes, and equipment. Lean had planned to film at the real
Aqaba and the archaeological site at Petra, both in Jordan, but once the production
moved to Spain he had Aqaba painstakingly re-­created by hiring hundreds of locals
from the resort town of Carbonaras to construct more than 300 period building
fronts and a quarter-­mile-­long sea wall at a dried river bed on the Mediterranean
Sea known as the Playa del Algarrobico. Lawrence’s execution of Gasim, the attacks
on Turkish trains, and Deraa exteriors w ­ ere filmed at Genovese Beach, San Jose, on
Cabo de Gata. In July 1962, ­after three months in Almería and environs, the com­
pany moved on to Ouarzazate, Morocco, to film the Tafas massacre, with Moroccan
army troops substituting for the Turkish army. Location shooting wrapped on
17 August  1962, and the opening two scenes, shot on location in Dorset and at
L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A 211

St. Paul’s Cathedral, w ­ ere completed shortly thereafter. With regard to cinema-


tography, Lean’s director of photography, Freddie Young, shot Lawrence of Arabia in
Super Panavision, a 70-mm version of the Panavision pro­cess used on only three
previous films (The Big Fisherman, 1959; Exodus, 1960; West Side Story, 1961). The
wide-­screen format required Freddie Young to rely on longer and more fluid takes
that fit with Lean’s extensive use of extreme long shots, pans, and following/tracking
shots. Once the shoot wrapped in August 1962 Lean and his editor, Anne V.
Coates, managed to produce a final cut in four months.

Plot Summary
[Part I] The film opens on 19 May 1935 when T. E. Lawrence (Peter O’Toole), 46,
is killed in a motorcycle accident near his home in Dorset, E ­ ngland. At his memo-
rial ser­v ice at St. Paul’s Cathedral (London), a reporter (Jack Hedley) tries to gain
insight into Lawrence by questioning t­ hose who knew him. The story then flashes
back to Cairo during the First World War. Over the objections of General Murray
(Donald Wolfit), Mr. Dryden (Claude Rains) of the Arab Bureau sends Lt. Lawrence
to assess the prospects of Prince Faisal (Alec Guinness) in his revolt against the
Ottoman Turks. On the journey, Lawrence’s local guide drinks from a well when
he i­sn’t allowed and is killed by Sherif Ali (Omar Sharif). Col. Harry Brighton
(Anthony Quayle) tells Faisal that he should pull back once defeated, but Lawrence
suggests a dif­fer­ent tack: an unannounced assault on Aqaba. Although the coastal
town appears heavi­ly guarded against an attack from the sea, it has a much weaker
defense on its land borders. Sherif Ali, though unsure of Lawrence’s plan, is ordered
to lead a group of 50 of Faisal’s men to attack Aqaba. Lawrence’s troops cross the
Nefud Desert, traveling day and night, ­towards much needed rest and w ­ ater. One
of Ali’s men, Gasim (I. S. Johar), faints from exhaustion and falls to the ground,
unbeknownst to his com­pany, as they are traveling at night. Not wanting to leave
a man ­behind, Lawrence goes back for Gasim, gaining the re­spect of Sherif Ali.
Lawrence convinces the Howeitat tribal leader, Auda abu Tayi (Anthony Quinn),
to go against the Turks, but he almost loses the alliance when a personal m ­ atter
­causes one of Ali’s soldiers to murder one of Auda’s men. Lawrence saves the alli-
ance by offering to personally dispatch the killer, but is shocked to find that the
murderer is none other than Gasim, the man whom he doubled back to save. Law-
rence has no choice but to shoot him. The next morning, Lawrence and his Arab
cohort capture Aqaba. Lawrence shares news of the victory with Dryden and the
new commander, General Allenby (Jack Hawkins), and is promoted. A ­ fter an inter-
mission in the film, Lawrence initiates a guerrilla war against the Turks. Jackson
Bentley (Arthur Kennedy), an American journalist, publicizes Lawrence’s exploits,
making him internationally famous. When Lawrence scouts the enemy-­held city
of Daraa with Ali, he is arrested. Alongside other Arab citizens, Lawrence is taken
to the Turkish Bey (José Ferrer) where he is stripped, ogled, prodded, flogged for
defiance, and other­w ise tortured before being left in the street. Lawrence is deeply
affected by the experience. Soon ­after, in Jerusalem, General Allenby persuades
Lawrence to join the “big push” on Damascus. Lawrence recruits an army that is
212 L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A

monetarily motivated to fight. They come upon a column of retreating Turkish sol-
diers who have just massacred the residents of Tafas. One of Lawrence’s men from
Tafas demands “No prisoners!” He charges the Turks alone and is shot dead. Law-
rence takes up the dead man’s ­battle cry. The result is a gruesome slaughter in
which Lawrence himself gleefully participates. Lawrence’s men take Damascus
ahead of Allenby’s forces. The Arabs then set up a council to administer the city
but despite Lawrence’s diplomatic efforts, they bicker constantly and get nothing
done. As a result, the city is abandoned to the British. Lawrence attains the rank
of col­o­nel, but has outlived his usefulness to both Faisal and the British forces. He
is ordered to return to ­England. As he leaves Damascus in a British staff car, his
automobile is passed by a motorcycle, which kicks up a cloud of dust.

Reception
The world premiere of Lawrence of Arabia was a Royal Command Per­for­m ance
attended by Queen Elizabeth II at the Odeon, Leicester Square, London, on
10 December 1962. The movie went into wide release in the UK the next day and
then opened in the United States five days l­ater. Audience reaction was enthusias-
tic but reviews ­were mixed. Alexander Walker joined many other critics in offering
high praise: “Lawrence of Arabia is an unpre­ce­dented kind of multimillion-­dollar
spectacle. H­ ere is an epic with intellect b
­ ehind it. An unforgettable display of action
staged with artistry. A momentous story told with moral force. What on earth has
wrought this miracle?” (Walker, 1960). Bosley Crowther panned the movie alto-
gether: “Like the desert itself, in which most of the action in Lawrence of Arabia
takes place, this much-­heralded film about the famous British soldier-­adventurer . . . ​
is vast, awe-­inspiring, beautiful with ever-­changing hues, exhausting and barren
of humanity. It is such a laboriously large conveyance of eye-­filling outdoor
spectacle—­such a brilliant display of endless desert and camels and Arabs and
sheiks and skirmishes with Turks and explosions and arguments with British mil-
itary men—­that the possibly h ­ uman, moving T. E. Lawrence is lost in it. We know
­little more about this strange man when it is over than we did when it begins”
(Crowther, 1962). Despite widespread confusion and dismay over the film’s por-
trayal of T. E. Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia did well at the box office, grossing
$37.5 million in worldwide box office receipts versus a $15 million bud­get. It also
did extremely well in the awards department, with 10 Oscar nominations and 7 wins
for Best Picture (Sam Spiegel); Best Director (David Lean); Best Cinematography,
Color (Freddie Young); Best Art Direction-­Set Decoration, Color (John Box, John
Stoll, and Dario Simoni); Best Sound (John Cox); Best Film Editing (Anne V. Coates);
and Best ­Music, Score (Maurice Jarre). Nominated for Best Actor for a per­for­
mance often cited as the greatest of all time, Peter O’Toole lost to Gregory Peck
for his rendition of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. Lawrence of Arabia also
won four BAFTA Awards and six Golden Globes. Since its initial run in 1962–
1963, the film has since been restored and re-­released numerous times all over the
world; its stature as one of the greatest films is secure. It is worth noting, however,
that despite its epic length (227 minutes), the film has no w ­ omen in speaking
L AW R E N C E O F A R A B I A 213

roles: an odd feature that Molly Haskell aptly characterizes as “covert misogyny”
(Haskell, 2016, p. 330).

Reel History Versus Real History


A boldly revisionist cinematic portrait of T. E. Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia fea-
tures some au­then­tic content but is rife with glaring historical inaccuracies. The
website T. E. Lawrence Studies provides an exhaustive cata­log of the film’s myriad
misrepresentations—­too many to list ­here (www​.­telstudies​.­org ​/­discussion ​/­film​_­tv​
_­radio​/­lofa​_­or​_ ­sid​_ ­2​.­shtml). What follows is a discussion of some of the major
points of contention. Peter O’Toole resembled Lawrence but critics point out that
O’Toole was 6'2"—­almost nine inches taller than the man he portrayed. More prob-
lematic is the movie’s portrayal of Lawrence as a publicity seeker who had, in the
words of Lowell Thomas, “a genius for backing into the limelight.” This is debat-
able insofar as Lawrence assumed vari­ous aliases ­after the war to evade attention—­
yet he also wrote and published Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph, an enormously
ambitious memoir of his WWI ser­vice, albeit privately circulated during Lawrence’s
lifetime. In the movie, O’Toole’s extreme handsomeness, slightly effeminate man-
ner, and total absence of a female love interest strongly suggest that Lawrence is
homosexual—­a surmise also made by some Lawrence biographers but contradicted
by letters brought to light six years ­after the film came out, proving that Lawrence
was actually a masochist addicted to flagellation (cf. Bruce, 1968). Ironically, the
film portrays Lawrence as a sadist who took plea­sure in shooting Gasim and slaugh-
tering Turks at the Tafas Massacre. As depicted in the film, Lawrence did rescue
the Arab boy, Gasim, but did not shoot him ­later (the movie conflates two unre-
lated incidents). Though other­w ise quite accurate, the film’s depiction of the Tafas
Massacre misrepresents Lawrence’s bloodlust as singularly personal. In Seven Pil-
lars of Wisdom Lawrence describes a collective frenzy for vengeance: “In a madness
born of the horror of Tafas we killed and killed, even blowing in the heads of the
fallen and of the animals; as though their death and r­ unning blood could slake
our agony.” Beyond a skewed psychological portrait of Lawrence, the film heavi­ly
fictionalizes certain events, such as the attack on Aqaba. In real­ity, the taking of
Aqaba was a well-­planned joint land–­sea operation, not a surprise initiative by Law-
rence. In the movie Lawrence is made aware of and appalled by the Sykes-­Picot
Agreement in the late stages of the Arab Revolt. In real­ity Lawrence knew about
Sykes-­Picot—­a secret treaty between Rus­sia, France, and Britain that precluded
Arab self-­determination by proposing a carving up of the Ottoman Empire ­after
its defeat—­early on. His own hy­poc­risy in dealing with Faisal and the Arabs caused
him endless pangs of conscience. The culminating Arab Council scenes are also
wildly inaccurate. The council did not quickly dissolve into bickering and chaos;
it remained in power in Syria from 1 October 1918 ­until 24 July 1920, when France
deposed Faisal. When Michael Wilson’s script was replaced by Bolt’s character-­
driven version, much background material on the history of the region, the First
World War, and the Arab Revolt was lost.
214 L E T T E R S F R O M I W O J I M A [ J A PA NESE : I Ō J I M A K A R A N O T E G A M I ]

L E T T E R S F R O M I W O J I M A [ J A PA N E S E : I Ō J I M A
KARA NO TEGAMI] (2006)

Synopsis
Letters from Iwo Jima is a Japanese-­American war film directed and co-­produced
by Clint Eastwood, starring Ken Watanabe and Kazunari Ninomiya. The compan-
ion piece to Eastwood’s Flags of Our ­Fathers, this film depicts the World War II
­Battle of Iwo Jima from the Japa­nese perspective and is almost entirely in Japa­
nese, although it was produced by American companies DreamWorks, Malpaso
Productions, and Amblin Entertainment.

Background
A tiny Pacific island about 650 miles due south of Japan, Iwo Jima would have
remained inconspicuous except that the World War II ­battle over its control
(19 February–26 March 1945) turned out to be one of history’s most savage ­battles.
Before emerging victorious, the U.S. Marine Corps suffered 26,038 casualties (6,821
killed; 19,217 wounded) among some 70,000 soldiers deployed, whereas only 1,083
of the island’s 22,786 Japa­nese defenders survived to be captured: a fatality rate of
95 ­percent. Honored cinematically by two Hollywood docudramas—­Sands of Iwo
Jima (1949) and The Outsider (1961)—­the ­Battle of Iwo Jima received renewed atten-
tion with Clint Eastwood’s Flags of Our ­Fathers (2006). Eastwood’s original inten-
tion was to tell both the American and Japa­nese sides of the story, but as production
developed, it became obvious that t­here was simply too much disparate material
for one film so Eastwood deci­ded to split it into two films. The screenplay for Let-
ters, written by Paul Haggis and Iris Yamashita, was based on two sources: letters
left ­behind by Iwo Jima’s Japa­nese garrison commander, General Tadamichi Kurib-
ayashi (1890–1945), and Kumiko Kakehashi’s So Sad to Fall in B ­ attle: An Account of
War, also based on Gen. Kuribayashi’s letters. Letters from Iwo Jima was shot right
­after Flags, and almost entirely in Japa­nese, despite the fact that it was produced
by American film companies, as mentioned. Except for Ken Watanabe, the Japa­
nese cast members ­were selected through auditions in Japan.

Production
Originally entitled “Red Sun, Black Sand” and bud­geted at $19 million, Letters from
Iwo Jima was shot over a 32-­day period in the spring of 2006. Whereas Eastwood
shot the Iwo Jima beach landing scenes for Flags in Iceland (which features black
volcanic sand like Iwo Jima’s), he shot the Iwo Jima beach scenes for Letters at Leo
Carrillo State Beach in Malibu and had black sand trucked in from Pisgah Vol-
cano, a volcanic cinder cone 321 feet high and 1,600 feet across in the Mojave
Desert, about 30 miles from Barstow, California, a site also used for filming. The
scenes featuring Japanese-­dug caves and tunnels on Iwo Jima w ­ ere actually shot
in and around an old silver mine at Calico Ghost Town in Barstow. A flashback
scene that shows Gen. Kuribayashi receiving a gift of a Colt .45 from an American
friend at a farewell banquet at what is supposed to be the Fort Bliss Country Club
near El Paso, Texas, was actually shot at the club­house at the Griffith Park Golf
L E T T E R S F R O M I W O J I M A [ J A PA NESE : I Ō J I M A K A R A N O T E G A M I ] 215

Course in Los Angeles. The battleship USS Texas (BB-35), now a museum ship sta-
tioned in La Porte, Texas, was used for close-up shots of the fleet for both movies.
Location filming wrapped on 8 April, and the cast and crew then headed back to
Warner Bros.’ Burbank Studios, where more interior scenes ­were shot on Stage 21.
At the very end of the shoot, Eastwood, Watanabe, and a smaller group of crew
members went to Iwo Jima for a single day to capture the on-­location shots.

Plot Summary
In 2005, Japa­nese archaeologists exploring tunnels on Iwo Jima find something in
the dirt. The scene shifts back 61 years, to Iwo Jima in 1944. Pfc. Saigo (Kazunari
Ninomiya) and his crew dig trenches on the beach. Meanwhile, Lt. Gen. Tadamichi
Kuribayashi (Ken Watanabe) arrives to assume leadership and surveys the defenses
currently set up on the island [19 June 1944]. He saves Saigo and his friend Kashi-
wara (Takashi Yamaguchi) from a beating by Capt. Tanida (Takumi Bando) for
“unpatriotic speeches” and ­orders the men to start digging underground defenses
in Mount Suribachi. Kuribayashi and Lt. Col. Baron Takeichi Nishi (Tsuyoshi Ihara),
a famous Olympic gold medalist show jumper, clash with some of the other officers,
who do not agree with Kuribayashi’s defense-­in-­depth strategy. Kuribayashi posits
that the American troops w ­ ill have an easier time breaking through the beach
defenses and suggests that the mountain strongholds stand a better chance of keep-
ing them out. Unclean w ­ ater and malnutrition lead to multiple deaths by dysentery,
including the loss of Kashiwara (Takashi Yamaguchi). Kashiwara’s replacement,
Superior Private Shimizu (Ryô Kase), comes u ­ nder suspicion of being a Kempeitai
(Military Police Corps) spy dispatched to identify and track disloyal troops. Not
long after Shimizu’s arrival, the Americans arrive, overwhelm the island, and
attack Mount Suribachi. Ordered to retreat by Kuribayashi, the commander of the
Suribachi garrison orders his soldiers to kill themselves rather than concede.
However, Saigo flees with Shimizu, and the two decide to b ­ attle on. They come
upon other soldiers and try to flee the mountain with Lt. Oiso ­under the cover of
darkness. Marines discover them and kill all except Saigo and Shimizu. The Japa­
nese counterattack, but suffer major casualties. The surviving soldiers go to meet
up with Col. Nishi while Ito leaves for the U.S. lines with a trio of landmines and
a plan to detonate them beneath an American tank. As the ­battle continues, Nishi
is rendered blind by shrapnel and calls on his men to retreat. Nishi then goes into
a cave and a gunshot is heard, signaling his suicide. Shimizu surrenders to the
Americans, but is then shot by the man guarding him. Meanwhile, a starving Ito
succumbs to despair; when found by U.S. Marines, he surrenders. Okubo is killed,
but Saigo re­unites with Kuribayashi, who plans a final attack. That night, during
the attack, most of Kuribayashi’s men perish, and although Kuribayashi is badly
hurt, his aid, Fujita, carries him to safety. The following morning, to die with
honor, Kuribayashi commands his aid to behead him, but a Marine shoots Fujita
before he can proceed. Saigo, a­ fter burying some of the documents and letters that
he was ordered to burn, comes upon Kuribayashi and, a­ fter Kuribayashi commits
suicide, tearfully buries him. An American Marine discovers Kuribayashi’s gun
near Fujita’s body and tucks it into his ­belt. Saigo, recognizing the gun, flies into
216 L E T T E R S F R O M I W O J I M A [ J A PA NESE : I Ō J I M A K A R A N O T E G A M I ]

a rage and attacks the Marine and his fellow troop members with a shovel. He is
knocked out, and then awakens to see the sun setting. The film flashes forward to
2005, where archeologists finish their excavation and discover the bag of letters
that Saigo buried.

Reception
Letters from Iwo Jima had its world premiere at the Budokan Arena in Tokyo on 15
November 2006. The movie went into wide release in Japan three weeks l­ater
(9 December 2006), ran ­until 15 April 2007, and grossed the equivalent of $42.9
million: a bona fide box office hit. The film’s commercial (and critical) success in
Japan was due to the fact that it was in Japa­nese, used Japa­nese actors, and pre-
sented a refreshingly respectful depiction of WWII Japa­nese soldiers—­a far cry
from the crude racist propaganda of American World War II–­era war films or ­those
made in the de­cades that followed, which ­were less crude but continued to traffic
in ste­reo­types and often employed non-­Japanese actors using incorrect Japa­nese
grammar and non-­native accents to portray Japa­nese characters. Put into limited
release in the United States for the Christmas 2006 weekend, Letters from Iwo Jima
ran for 21 weeks but, not surprisingly, earned only $13.75 million—­a third of the
Japa­nese box office gross. Total foreign sales of $54.9 million, combined with
domestic returns, boosted the film’s final take to $68.7 million—­almost $50 mil-
lion more than it cost to make. ­After Flags of Our ­Fathers underperformed at the
box office, DreamWorks swapped the domestic distribution rights with Warner
Bros., which held the international rights. The critical response in the United States
matched the acclaim the film received in Japan, with many American film critics
naming Letters from Iwo Jima the best film of 2006. The movie also earned a Golden
Globe for Best Film in a Foreign Language and received four Acad­emy Award nom-
inations, winning an Oscar for Best Sound Editing.

Reel History Versus Real History


Noriko Manabe (a Japa­nese doctoral student in ethnomusicology at CUNY Gradu­
ate Center in 2007 who is now a m ­ usic professor at T­ emple University) offered a
summary of Letters from Iwo Jima’s inaccuracies, as cata­logued by Japa­nese blog-
gers. Acknowledging that Japa­nese viewers “appreciated the film for its anti-­war
message, its sentimental story, and its surprisingly sympathetic stance for an Amer-
ican director,” Manabe also noted that “an articulate minority” have taken issue
with the film’s historical inaccuracies, for example, all the scenes looked “too
clean—­those ­battles, let alone our cities, w
­ ere far more wretched . . . ​Some review-
ers commented that Kuribayashi’s assertion that t­here was ‘no support’ was not
accurate, as kamikazes (suicide pi­lots) had sunk several American warships . . . ​
Several commented about the unnaturalness of the characters’ be­hav­ior and dia-
logue (‘would a low-­ranking soldier like Saigo have used such rough language, in
that era?’) Another pointed out, ‘All the m
­ istakes in the customs of the period both-
ered us. Shoji screens w ­ ere never used for the front door—­how can you knock
on paper? And young ­people had been wearing Western clothing, not kimonos,
since the 1930s.” For Manabe, “The greatest concern is that the film fails to
LONE SURVIVOR 217

explain why the Japa­nese felt the need to defend a seemingly insignificant island
so fervently—­the fear that the firebombing of Japa­nese cities, already devastating
to civilians, would intensify w­ ere the Americans to gain Iwo Jima as a launching
pad for air strikes. In not explaining this background, viewers felt that the film
catered to the ste­reo­type of the Japa­nese as lemming-­like fanatics.” Manabe also
noted that “viewers raised objections that ‘good’ was being equated with being
America-­friendly. As one user stated, ‘Only officers who had been to the U.S. are
depicted as rational and smart, while all other Japa­nese officers are evil and bar-
baric, as per the American ste­reo­type’ (Manabe, 2007). Unaware of the film’s
many inaccuracies, most American viewers and film critics embraced Letters from
Iwo Jima as a laudably liberal-­m inded revisionist war film fi­n ally humanizing
an often-­demonized p ­ eople—­which it is, to a significant degree. However, as
Ms. Manabe points out, the subtle truth is that, despite its pretenses to the contrary,
Letters remains stubbornly Amerocentric in its cultural orientation and ideologi-
cal predilections.

LONE SURVIVOR (2013)

Synopsis
Lone Survivor is an American war film written and directed by Peter Berg. Based
on the 2007 nonfiction book of the same title by former Navy SEAL Marcus Lut-
trell (co-­authored with Patrick Robinson), the film dramatizes a failed U.S. Navy
SEALs counterinsurgency mission in Af­ghan­i­stan that turned into a desperate
strug­gle for survival.

Background
On 27 June 2005, in the fourth year of the U.S. war in Af­ghan­i­stan, the U.S. mili-
tary launched Operation Red Wings, an attempt to capture or neutralize Ahmad
Shah (1970–2008), a dangerous Taliban leader. The operation involved first insert-
ing a four-­man Navy SEAL reconnaissance and surveillance team into Shah’s
home territory, the Korangal Valley, to locate him. Unfortunately the mission
quickly went awry when the SEALs ran into local herdsmen, who alerted the Tali-
ban to their presence. The team was subsequently ambushed and all w ­ ere killed—­
except for USN Petty Officer 2nd  Class Marcus Luttrell, who was eventually
rescued, but not before another eight SEALs and eight Army Airborne SOAR troop-
ers died trying to reach the ­battle site when their he­li­cop­ter was shot down by the
Taliban. Avid to publish his own account of the disastrous mission, he hired a
­lawyer and searched for a ghost writer. Luttrell’s ­lawyer connected him with Ed
Victor, literary agent to the stars, who also represented Patrick Robinson, a
66-­year-­old British novelist specializing in maritime thrillers, including novels
about Navy SEALs. ­After Luttrell hired Robinson, the two men met four times at
Robinson’s summer home on Cape Cod to hash out Luttrell’s story. According to
Motoko Rich, “Between visits Mr. Robinson, who never used a taped recorder, typed
chapters on his computer, adding researched material and filling in facts that
218 LONE SURVIVOR

Mr. Luttrell c­ ouldn’t remember but that could be corroborated from other sources.
The core of the book—­the ­battle and the rescue—­relied entirely on Mr. Luttrell’s
memory” (Rich, 2007). Over a four-­month period Robinson produced a 135,000-­
word manuscript, the U.S. Navy reviewed and approved it as accurate, and then
Robinson and Luttrell met with five publishers in New York to pitch the book. In an
auction ­Little, Brown and Com­pany won the contract for a seven-­figure advance and
rushed the book into production. Meanwhile Luttrell returned to active duty
and shipped out to Iraq as part of Navy SEAL Team Five during Operation Iraqi
Freedom—­until further injuries forced his medical discharge from military ser­
vice on 7 June 2007. Five days ­later, ­Little, Brown and Com­pany published Lone
Survivor: The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing [sic] and the Lost Heroes of SEAL
Team 10. Showcased on NBC’s The T ­ oday Show and touted by right-­w ing media
pundits Glenn Beck and Michelle Malkin, Lone Survivor went on to become a
national bestseller. Motoko Rich’s aforementioned review was laudatory, but Rich
went on to note, “Along with the tragic story about how Mr. Luttrell lost his com-
rades, the book is spiked with unabashed braggadocio and patriotism, as well as
several polemical passages lashing out at the ‘liberal media’ for its role in sustain-
ing military rules of engagement that prevent soldiers from killing unarmed civil-
ians who may also be scouts or informers for terrorists.” A ­ fter it reached No. 1 on
bestseller charts, Lone Survivor touched off a second bidding war in August 2007,
this time between Universal, Warner Bros., DreamWorks, and Sony for the film
rights, which Universal won, buying the property for $2 million up front, plus
5 ­percent against adjusted gross in a deal brokered by Ed Victor and Hollywood
super-­lawyer Alan U. Schwartz of Greenberg Traurig. E ­ ager to make Lone Survivor,
Peter Berg (Friday Night Lights) secured a deal with Universal by agreeing to direct
Battleship (2012), a big bud­get sci-fi film that turned out to be a critically panned
box office bomb. Berg also agreed to direct Lone Survivor for the minimum fee
allowed by the Director’s Guild of Amer­i­ca (DGA) and convinced his principal
actors—­Mark Wahlberg, Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch, Ben Foster, and Eric Bana—
to work for reduced pay. Berg wrote the screen adaptation of Lone Survivor in close
consultation with Marcus Luttrell, whom he had cultivated early on.

Production
The 42-­day shoot on Lone Survivor took place in October and November 2012 in
New Mexico to take advantage of a 25 ­percent state tax credit. The initial eight
days of filming occurred at locations in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of Santa
Fe National Forest—­mountains ranging from 11,000 to 12,000 feet that doubled
for mountains in the Hindu Kush between Af­ghan­i­stan and Pakistan. Production
then moved to Chilili, New Mexico, for two weeks, where wooded areas w ­ ere used
to film several ­battle scenes. Berg’s art department built sets to simulate an Afghan
village occupied by Ahmad Shah’s Taliban insurgents, as well as the Pashtun vil-
lage where Luttrell is fi­nally rescued. The shoot then moved to Kirtland AFB in
Albuquerque, which doubled for scenes set at Bagram Airfield in Af­ghan­i­stan. The
shoot wrapped up on sound stages at I-25 Studios in Albuquerque for bluescreen
work and interior scenes (e.g., Gulab’s ­house and Bagram Airfield’s patrol base
LONE SURVIVOR 219

Camp Ouellette). Peter Berg’s director of photography, Tobias Schliessler, shot the
film using Red Epic digital cameras and Fujinon and Angénieux lenses. Marcus
Luttrell and several other Navy SEAL veterans ­were on set throughout the produc-
tion as technical advisors, while multiple branches of the U.S. military lent their
support.

Plot Summary
In Af­ghan­i­stan, Taliban leader Ahmad Shah (Yousuf Azami) is the man ­behind
the destruction of over 20 American Marines, along with villa­gers and refugees
who assisted the U.S. troops. A U.S. Navy SEAL team is tasked with capturing Shah.
Four SEALs are dispatched to locate their target: team leader Michael P. “Murph”
Murphy (Taylor Kitsch), snipers Marcus Luttrell (Mark Wahlberg) and Matthew
“Axe” Axelson (Ben Foster), and communications specialist Danny Dietz (Emile
Hirsch). The team is dropped into the Hindu Kush region of Af­ghan­i­stan but soon
encounters communications prob­lems, which ­w ill plague the mission. When they
arrive at their rendezvous point, the SEALs are spotted by a shepherd (Zarin Rahimi)
and two young goat herders (Rohan Chand and Daniel Arroyo). ­After talking it
over, the team decides not to kill the shepherd and herders and to abort their mis-
sion for the time being. However, as they turn back, Taliban fighters discover them
and open fire. The team kills some of the attackers, but is quickly outnumbered. All
four SEALs are wounded during the firefight, and they are forced to jump from a
cliff into a ravine to escape the insurgents. They survive and press on through the
woods in retreat. Dietz, near delirious due to his wounds, begins shouting and
gives away the unit’s position. The Taliban forces shoot and kill him. Murphy
attempts to scale the cliff to find a phone signal to radio for support, and he suc-
cessfully makes a call for backup before being killed by the Taliban fighters. ­After
receiving Murphy’s call, a rescue team is put in place and takes two CH-47 Chi-
nook he­li­cop­ters to the SEALs’ location. During the attempted rescue, Taliban fight-
ers gun down one of the he­li­cop­ters, killing all on board. The second he­li­cop­ter is
forced to turn back without Luttrell and Axelson. Axelson dies attempting to find
cover, and when the Taliban find Luttrell, a fighter fires a rocket-­propelled grenade
(RPG). Luttrell is blasted into a rock crevice, where he takes shelter. He submerges
himself in a small pond, and when he surfaces, he is greeted by a local Pashtun
villa­ger, Mohammad Gulab (Ali Suliman), who takes Luttrell in and hides him
while a fellow villa­ger travels to an American air base for help. In the meantime,
Taliban fighters come for Luttrell, but the villa­gers come to his aid. American troops
arrive in he­li­cop­ters, decimate the Taliban, and evacuate Luttrell back to base. The
film ends with a four-­minute montage, showing images of the real-­life Marcus Lut-
trell, Mohammad Gulab, and the 19 U.S. soldiers who died during the mission.
An epilogue states that the Pashtun locals assisted Luttrell as part of their code
of honor.

Reception
Lone Survivor premiered at the AFI Film Festival in Los Angeles on 12 Novem-
ber 2013 and went into wide release on 10 January 2014. The movie proved to a
220 LONE SURVIVOR

box office hit; during its 17-­week domestic run (widest release: 3,285 theaters), Lone
Survivor grossed $125 million. Foreign ticket sales totaled $29.7 million, making
for a total gross of $154.8 million. Reviews ­were, however, mixed, and some, like
David Edelstein’s, w ­ ere highly critical. Edelstein especially faulted Peter Berg for
not widening the geopo­liti­cal perspective: “The film ­doesn’t link the absence of air
support and the near-­total failure of communication in the mountains to an admin-
istration that diverted personnel and precious resources from Af­ghan­i­stan to the
catastrophic occupation of Iraq, leaving men like Luttrell with a tragically impos-
sible job. Nor does it suggest that one reason good guys like Luttrell and his team
had such a difficult time winning ‘hearts and minds’ was that at places like
Bagram . . . ​prisoners ­were being tortured to death by U.S. interrogators in the ser­
vice of Dick Cheney’s ‘Dark Side’ manifesto. Instead, Berg leads you to the conclu-
sion that t­hese Americans w ­ ere just too good, too true, too respectful. Luttrell’s
operation—­and his team’s lives—­might have been saved if ­they’d summarily exe-
cuted three passing goat-­herders rather than following the Rules of Engagement . . . ​
Lone Survivor is a brutally effective movie, made by ­people who think that ­they’re
serving their country. But ­they’re just making us coarser and more self-­centered.
­They’re perpetuating the kind of propaganda that sent the heroes of Seal Team 10 to
their deaths” (Edelstein, 2014).

Reel History Versus Real History


According to Ed Darrack, author of Victory Point: Operations Red Wings and Whalers—­
the Marine Corps’ ­Battle for Freedom in Af­ghan­i­stan (2009), Patrick Robinson’s
book, Lone Survivor, contains some serious inaccuracies, omissions, and exag-
gerations. Darrack writes, “The (very gripping, yet extraordinarily unrealistic)
narrative of a small special operations team inserted on a lonely mountain to not
just surveil, but to take down the operations of one of Osama bin Laden’s top men—­
who had hundreds of fighters with him—­continued to propagate throughout the
media” (Darrack, 2011, p.  62). In an exhaustively researched series of articles at
their website OnViolence​ .­
com, Michael and Eric Cummings detail the film’s
numerous falsehoods. Early in the movie, Axelson (Ben Foster) claims that Ahmad
Shah killed 20 Marines in the week before Operation Red Wings, but official casu-
alty rec­ords show that the United States did not lose 20 Marines during that period.
In the film, Marcus Luttrell literally dies of his wounds and is resuscitated by
medics. In his book, Luttrell recalls that he was not in mortal danger when res-
cued but “reported stable and unlikely to die” (p. 352). The movie depicts Luttrell
as having Ahmad Shah in his gunsights at one point. In the book, Luttrell and the
SEALs never see Shah, much less aim at him. In the film, Shah’s lieutenant, Taraq
(Sammy Sheik) comes to the village, grabs Luttrell, and is about to behead him
when he is driven off at the last minute by the local villa­gers firing their AK-47s.
In real­ity, none of this happened; a wounded Luttrell was beaten by Taliban
fighters but not threatened with beheading. In the film, Luttrell withstands
excruciating pain when he extracts a bullet from his own leg with a knife. This
never happened; in real­ity the bullet went through and through. The movie ends
with the villa­gers of Kandish fending off a massive Taliban attack. The prosaic
L O N G E S T D AY, T H E 221

real­ity is that t­ here was no attack and ensuing firefight; to scare the villa­gers, the
Taliban merely fired into the air ­because they ­couldn’t afford to lose their sup-
port. In the film, during the final (mythical) ­battle in the village, Marcus Luttrell
stabs a Taliban attacker with a knife. In a radio interview with NPR host Rachel
Martin, Luttrell admitted that he “­didn’t kill anybody with a knife. And I remem-
ber sitting back and laughing. I go why did you put that in ­there? What does that
have to do with anything? I mean, the story itself, I think, is enough to where you
­wouldn’t have to embellish anything” (NPR’s Weekend Edition Sunday, 12 Jan. 2014).
In the scene melding with the attack on the village, the American military arrives
with gunships routing the Taliban and airborne troopers descending from he­li­
cop­ters. In real­ity, Luttrell’s rescue was far less cinematic; U.S. Army Rangers
found him in the forest, walking back to the village with Gulab.

L O N G E S T D AY, T H E ( 1 9 6 2 )

Synopsis
The Longest Day is a war epic based on Cornelius Ryan’s book The Longest Day (1959),
a comprehensive account of the D-­Day landings at Normandy on 6 June 1944, dur-
ing World War II. Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck and adapted from his own book
by Ryan, the film recounts the events of D-­Day from a variety of perspectives.

Background
Cornelius Ryan (1920–1974), Irish-­born correspondent for London’s Daily Telegraph,
was one of the many war reporters who covered Operation Overlord, the crucial
Normandy landings on 6 June 1944. In 1949, on the fifth anniversary of D-­Day,
­after attending a press reunion, Ryan was inspired to try and construct a compre-
hensive, minute-­by-­minute account of the invasion. Over most of the next de­cade
Ryan read all 240 books published about D-­Day, and he and his researchers con-
ducted 700 interviews with survivors in North Amer­i­ca and Eu­rope, of which 383
accounts of D-­Day ­were used in the text of the book. Ryan’s book—­The Longest
Day: 6 June 1944 D-­Day—­first appeared in a condensed Reader’s Digest version.
Published by Simon & Schuster in November 1959, the big book drew excellent
reviews, became a bestseller, and established Ryan as a popu­lar historian of inter-
national stature. French producer Raoul Lévy purchased the film rights to Ryan’s
book on 23 March 1960 then signed a deal with Associated British Picture Corpo-
ration (ABPC) to make the movie. Ryan’s pay: $100,000 for the film rights, plus
$35,000 to write the screenplay. Lévy intended to start production in March 1961.
Unfortunately, the proj­ect had to be aborted when ABPC could not come up with
the $6 million needed. In December 1961 Hollywood mogul Darryl F. Zanuck
stepped in and purchased Lévy’s option for $175,000 as a last chance ­gamble for
20th ­Century Fox, which was hemorrhaging millions on its runaway production
of Cleopatra. Zanuck’s friend, Elmo Williams, wrote a film treatment, so Zanuck
made him associate producer and coordinator of b ­ attle episodes. Ryan commenced
on his screen adaptation but often clashed with Zanuck, forcing Williams to
222 L O N G E S T D AY, T H E

mediate between the two throughout the script development pro­cess (Zanuck also
brought in other writers to help: David Pursall, Jack Seddon, James Jones, and
Romain Gary). During pre-­production, producer Frank McCarthy (Patton), who had
worked for the U.S. War Department during World War II, arranged for military
collaboration with the governments of France, Germany, the United Kingdom, and
the United States. With eight major ­battle scenes planned, Zanuck deci­ded to hire
multiple directors—­G ermany’s Gerd Oswald and Bernhard Wicki (Die Brücke),
Britain’s Ken Annakin, and the American Andrew “Bandy” Marton—to head their
own film units and shoot si­mul­ta­neously. Zanuck coordinated their efforts and also
did some directing in his own right. The intent all along was to have a big star-­
studded cast. Zanuck was able to sign a wide swathe of mostly A-­list talent: John
Wayne, Robert Mitchum, Henry Fonda, Robert Ryan, Rod Steiger, Richard Todd,
Richard Burton, Robert Wagner, Jeffrey Hunter, Paul Anka, Sal Mineo, Roddy
McDowall, Stuart Whitman, Eddie Albert, Edmond O’Brien, Red Buttons, Peter
Lawford, and Sean Connery. All the major stars ­were paid $25,000 except John
Wayne, who insisted on $250,000, to punish producer Zanuck for referring to him
as “poor John Wayne” in reference to Wayne’s prob­lems with his pet proj­ect, The
Alamo (1960), which flopped. Zanuck hired more than 2,000 real soldiers for the
film as extras.

Production
Filming of The Longest Day took place over a nine-­month period (August 1961–16
June 1962). The film was shot at several French locations, including the Île de Ré,
Saleccia beach in Saint-­Florent, Haute-­Corse, Port-­en-­Bessin-­Huppain (filling in
for Ouistreham), Les Studios de Boulogne in Boulogne-­Billancourt in Paris and the
­actual locations of Pegasus Bridge near Bénouville, Calvados, Sainte-­Mère-­Église,
and Pointe du Hoc. The U.S. Sixth Fleet provided extensive support to the pro-
duction, making available many amphibious landing ships and craft for scenes
filmed in Corsica. The USS Springfield and USS ­Little Rock, both World War II light
cruisers (though updated as guided missile cruisers), w ­ ere used in the shore bom-
bardment scenes.

Plot Summary
Ryan’s book is divided into three parts: The Wait, The Night, and The Day. The
film follows the same format, devoting about an hour to each section. It also adds
a prologue that features Field Marshall Erwin Rommel (Werner Hinz) briefing sub-
ordinates. Rommel expresses his intent to defeat the coming invasion on the
beaches and declares, “For the Allies, as well as Germany,” that day “­w ill be the
longest day!” The film proper begins with German intelligence intercepting a coded
message that seems to indicate the invasion is now imminent, but the High Com-
mand refuses to put troops on alert. Rommel discusses the stormy weather with
an aide and expects it to last another week. In E
­ ngland on 5 June, vari­ous vignettes
show invasion troops moving from staging points or whiling away the time on land
and at sea, gambling or complaining about the food, the bad weather, and the seem-
ingly endless waiting for the appointed hour as the weather has forced repeated
L O N G E S T D AY, T H E 223

postponements of the invasion. Col. Thompson (Eddie Albert) tells Gen. Norman
Cota (Robert Mitchum) that the operation is likely about to start, “providing the
weather d ­ oesn’t get any worse.” Lt. Col. Benjamin “Vandy” Vandervoort (John
Wayne) meets with Brig. Gen. James M. Gavin (Robert Ryan) and expresses his
concern about the planned paratrooper drop zone his men have been assigned.
He wants it changed but relents when Gavin informs him that the chances that
Operation Overlord ­w ill commence shortly “are better than 50–50.” On the Ger-
man side, Gen. Erich Marcks (Richard Münch) predicts the Allies w ­ ill do the unex-
pected and attack at Normandy (the longest distance across the En­glish Channel)
and in bad weather. Gen. Dwight Eisenhower (Henry Grace) and his top generals
are briefed by Royal Air Force (RAF) meteorologist Group Capt. J. N. Stagg (Pat-
rick Barr), who predicts a win­dow of moderately decent weather. Ike asks Sir
Bernard L. Montgomery (Trevor Reid) his opinion. Monty says, “Go! Go!” The moon
and tides ­won’t be favorable again u ­ ntil July so Ike decides to proceed with the
invasion. Gen. Gavin briefs his pathfinder paratroopers. An RAF airborne officer
demonstrates “Rupert,” a paradummy decoy loaded with fireworks that go off when
it lands. It is hoped that many Ruperts ­w ill divert German defenders away from
real paratroopers. Vandervoort briefs his men about signaling each other with
“crickets” (i.e., clickers) once they land in their drop zone. French re­sis­tance fight-
ers are stunned to get the coded radio transmission that the invasion is on; they
break out weapons and move out. The Germans intercept coded radio messages
indicating the invasion w ­ ill start in the next 24 hours; the 15th Army is put on
alert. At midnight over Normandy, Major Howard’s (Patrick Jordan) glider detach-
ment releases from their towing planes to land. Their mission, to secure the stra-
tegically vital Pegasus Bridge on the Orne River before the Germans can blow it
up, proves successful. Caen, 1:07 hours: German AA guns open up on Allied trans-
ports dropping airborne troops as German ground troops muster. The Ruperts do
their job, fooling the Germans into mistakenly diverting troops. French re­sis­tance
fighters cut German phone lines and team up with British airborne troopers to blow
up a train carry­ing German reinforcements. Sainte-­Mère-­Église, 2:03 hours: U.S.
paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division jump in force. One group overshoots
its landing zone and lands in the town square, where they are slaughtered by wait-
ing German troops. Pvt. John Steele (Red Buttons) lands on the pinnacle of a
church tower and hangs suspended, watching in horror as the carnage unfolds
below him. At a coastal bunker Wehrmacht Maj. Werner Pluskat (Hans Christian
Blech) phones headquarters to report hundreds of Allied planes in the skies. Vander-
voort breaks his ankle jumping and discovers that his paratroopers have missed
their drop zones and are scattered all over. German Field Marshall Gerd Von
Rundstedt (Paul Hartmann) requests that reserve panzer divisions be mobilized
to c­ ounter the invasion, but Col. Gen. Alfred Jodl (Wolfgang Lukschy) refuses to
release them without Hitler’s permission—­and the Fuhrer is asleep and not to be
disturbed. French Cmdr. Philippe Kieffer (Christian Marquand) leads his comman-
dos into b ­ attle. Pluskat looks out from his bunker with binoculars and suddenly
sees hundreds of ships approaching. He exclaims, “The invasion—­it’s coming!”
Soon the Allied warships begin shelling. Omaha Beach, 6:32 hours: the landings
224 L O N G E S T D AY, T H E

begin and German troops man fortifications and open fire. Gen. Roo­se­velt discov-
ers that his troops have landed at the wrong beach, a mile and a half south of their
intended destination but decides to proceed anyway. Two German fighter pilots—­
Col. Josef “Pips” Priller (Heinz Reincke) and his wingman—­strafe Gold-­Juno
beaches, one of the only Luftwaffe sorties on D-­Day. Allied fighters strafe a German
column, and Pluskat is wounded. Point de Hoc, 7:11 hours: U.S. Army Rangers use
ladders and ropes attached to grappling hooks to successfully scale the supposedly
impregnable 100-­foot cliffs of Point du Hoc and take the German bunkers, but dis-
cover that the big guns they ­were supposed to take out ­were never installed. Lord
Lovat (Peter Lawford), accompanied by his personal bagpiper, leads reinforcements
to isolated British paratroopers at the Orne River Bridge. Cmdr. Kieffer and his ­Free
French commandos attack the seaside town of Ouistreham but meet heavy re­sis­
tance. A group of nuns shows up in the m ­ iddle of the b­ attle to nurse the French
wounded. Then a U.S. Army tank appears on the scene and blasts the German
position to ruins, allowing the French to win the b ­ attle. Troops advance on the
beaches—­except for Omaha Beach, where the assault falters, held back by a cement
wall that prevents the troops from advancing, but Brigadier General Cota rallies his
men. Sgt. John H. Fuller (Jeffrey Hunter) blasts a clear path from the beach with a
dynamite charge. An American paratrooper comes across a dead German officer
who has been shot by Flying Officer David Campbell (Richard Burton), a downed
and wounded RAF pi­lot. Burton concludes, “He’s dead. I’m crippled. ­You’re lost.
I suppose it’s always like that, war.” The G.I. asks wistfully, “I won­der who won.”

Reception
The Longest Day had its world premiere at the Palais de Chaillot in Paris on 25
September 1962, a six-­hour gala event that was likely the most extravagant film
opening ever staged. Detachments of British, French, and American troops stood
ceremonial guard for the arrival of 2,700 guests, some of whom paid as much as $70
($583 in 2017 dollars) for a ticket. A
­ fter the screening, t­here w
­ ere fireworks at the
Eifel Tower, where Edith Piaf gave a f­ree concert. T
­ here was also a champagne sup-
per for 400 of the guests, which included lots of Hollywood celebrities and 10
French cabinet ministers. The film had its U.S. opening in New York on 4 October
and its London opening a week ­later. Luckily for Darryl Zanuck and 20th ­Century
Fox, The Longest Day proved to be a box office smash, grossing $39.1 million domes-
tically and $11 million in foreign markets for a total of $50.1 million against a
$10 million production bud­get. Reviews tended to be adulatory, like Bosley
Crowther’s: “The total effect of the picture is that of a huge documentary report,
adorned and colored by personal details that are thrilling, amusing, ironic, sad . . . ​
It is hard to think of a picture, aimed and constructed as this one was, ­doing any
more or any better or leaving one feeling any more exposed to the horror of war
than this one does” (Crowther, 5 October 1962). ­Later assessments have been more
discerning and insightful, for example, Scott Macdonald’s: “Despite its multiple
threads, it is overlong, with too much fat hanging off the narrative, becoming
bogged down early in tedious exposition, when it should be pushing forward
relentlessly, as the tension and drama builds . . . ​since it has multiple directors
L O N G E S T D AY, T H E 225

and styles . . . ​it crumbles ­under its own epic intentions and lack of cohesion”
(Macdonald, 2004).

Reel History Versus Real History


To his credit, Darryl F. Zanuck sought to preserve the depth and breadth of Cor-
nelius Ryan’s sprawling history of D-­Day while also striving for historical accu-
racy. Accordingly, Zanuck hired Ryan to adapt his own book to the screen and
also retained some two dozen military and technical advisors, most of them D-­Day
veterans, to ensure that uniforms, weapons, and events ­were properly represented.
Nonetheless, a three-­hour movie epic cannot be a cinematic history lesson; it also
has to have commercial appeal to recoup its enormous production costs. A nota-
ble concession to this prerogative is evident in the film’s casting of a plethora of
big-­name movie stars: distracting but not historically invalid, except in the case of
John Wayne, who was absurdly miscast as Lt. Col. Benjamin Vandervoort (1917–
1990), the commanding officer of the 2nd Battalion, 505th PIR -­82nd Airborne
Division at D-­Day. Vandervoort was a compact, athletic man 27 years of age in
1944, whereas Wayne was a lumbering 6'4" and 55 years old in 1961: 28 years
older and much bigger than his real-­life counterpart—­a preposterous paratrooper.
Other bits of Hollywood win­dow dressing involved the casting of teen idols Paul
Anka, Fabian Anthony Forte (aka Fabian), and Sal Mineo and the portrayal of
French Re­sis­tance fighter Janine Gille-­Boitard (1907–2001) by Zanuck’s then-­
mistress, French bombshell Irina Demick: 12 years younger in 1961 than Boitard
would have been in 1944 and far sexier, no doubt, in cleavage-­revealing outfits
and a modishly styled hairdo unknown to the 1940s. As for historical inaccura-
cies, one involves the so-­called Ruperts. The paradummy decoys used at Normandy
­were not elaborate rubber figures and did not contain fireworks, as shown in the
movie; they w ­ ere stuffed forms, crudely made out of burlap. Though the film’s ren-
dition of “Operation Deadstick,” the taking of Pegasus Bridge by British Glider
forces, is quite accurate, it does embellish the American airborne drop at Sainte-­
Mère-­Église for dramatic purposes. In real­ity, very few paratroopers landed in the
town square, compared to the fairly large number in the movie, who are then
slaughtered. T ­ here was, indeed, a Pvt. John Steele, who ended up hanging off a
church roof. In the movie, Steel intently watches the b ­ attle below. The real Pvt.
Steele played dead in order to survive, and he dangled for two hours, not six. The
movie also shows paratroopers firing their weapons as they descended—­not pos­
si­ble, according to ­actual paratroopers. Another inaccuracy involves the scene
depicting the U.S. Army Ranger assault on Point de Hoc, which shows the Rangers
mounting the cliff face with grappling hooks, ropes, and ladders. In real­ity, t­hese
methods largely failed; most of the Rangers resorted to scaling the cliff face by f­ ree
climbing. The movie also depicts the big guns as never having been installed—­
not true. They w ­ ere installed, but the Germans removed them from their emplace-
ments to avoid Allied naval shelling and set them farther back, where they ­were
­later found and taken out by the Rangers. The scene depicting nuns at Ouistreham
braving gunfire to nurse French commando casualties is another example of fic-
tional license; t­ here was no nunnery at Ouistreham.
M
M A S T E R A N D C O M M A N D E R : T H E FA R S I D E O F
THE WORLD (2003)

Synopsis
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World is an American period war epic
adapted from three novels in Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-­Maturin series by Peter Weir
who also produced and directed. Set during the Napoleonic Wars, the film stars
Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey, captain in the Royal Navy, and Paul Bettany as
Dr. Stephen Maturin. It follows the HMS Surprise, a British frigate, as it pursues the
French privateer, Acheron, across the Pacific Ocean.

Background
The prolific En­glish novelist, Patrick O’Brian (1914–2000), was best known for his
hugely popu­lar Aubrey-­Maturin books: a series of 20 nautical historical novels pub-
lished between 1969 and 1999, set during the Napoleonic Wars and centering on
the friendship between Royal Navy Capt. Jack Aubrey and his ship’s surgeon,
Dr. Stephen Maturin, a physician, naturalist, and spy. In­de­pen­dent producer Sam
Goldwyn, Jr. bought the film rights to O’Brian’s novels in 1992, but according to
Tom Rothman, chairman of 20th ­Century Fox, Goldwyn had trou­ble finding a top-­
flight director and actor: “Sam had many opportunities to make the film with
more workmanlike directors, but he felt it was exceptional material that required
an exceptional director” (de Vries, 2004, p. F1). In early 2000, director Peter Weir
(The Truman Show) stopped by Rothman’s Hollywood office to see what proj­ects
he might have for him. Rothman pitched him the Aubrey-­Maturin series, a prop-
erty that Weir had passed on in 1993, but this time he accepted the assignment.
Researching tall ships, Weir found the Rose, an exact modern replica of the origi-
nal HMS Rose, a 20-­gun Royal Navy frigate built in 1757 and scuttled in 1779. The
newer ship had been built in Nova Scotia, Canada, in 1970 as a dockside attraction.
Even before he had a deal to make the film, Weir asked Fox to buy the Rose, which
it did for $1.5 million; the studio l­ater re-­outfitted the ship as the HMS Surprise for
the movie. Weir and screenwriter John Collee then set about writing a script, draw-
ing on many novels from O’Brian’s series but mostly basing their adaptation on The
Far Side of the World (1984), a novel set during the War of 1812 that pits the Surprise
against an American warship, the USS Norfolk. A key change from book to script
involved setting the story in 1805 and having the Surprise fight a French vessel—­a
choice obviously made for po­liti­cal and commercial reasons; opposing Napoleon
was more palatable than having Aubrey fight a fledgling democracy and more
M A S T E R A N D C O M M A N D E R : T H E FA R S I D E O F T H E W O R L D 227

acceptable to American audiences. To play Jack Aubrey, Weir signed megastar


Russell Crowe in late 2001. Weir and Crowe then worked closely for several weeks
with the Oscar-­w inning screenwriter Akiva Goldsman (A Beautiful Mind) to flesh
out the relationship between Aubrey and his friend, Dr. Maturin (played by Paul
Bettany).

Production
Before principal photography began, the cast was put through a two-­week boot
camp where they literally learned the ropes and other nautical skills in ­handling
early 19th-­century sailing vessels. The actors w
­ ere also taught swordplay and how
to load and fire cannons. B
­ ecause of the enormous technical complexities in depict-
ing naval warfare in the age of sail, Master and Commander was an expensive pro-
duction: the final price tag was a whopping $150 million. It was also a long
production that stretched over a five-­month period (17 June–11 November 2002)
and involved some 30 actors; dozens of extras; 970 technicians of all kinds (includ-
ing 70 stunt men); 2,000 costumes; and extensive use of miniatures, models, and
computer-­generated imagery (CGI). ­There was location shooting in the Galapagos
Islands and at sea for 10 days, with the aforementioned Rose masquerading as the
Surprise, but most exterior shots w­ ere filmed in the huge (17 million gallon) hori-
zon tank that James Cameron had built to film Titanic (1997), located at Fox Baja
Studios in Playas de Rosarito, Baja, Mexico. ­Here the filmmakers used another rep-
lica of the Surprise, mounted inside the horizon tank on a hydraulically controlled
gimbal that allowed it pitch in all directions—­gently—to simulate normal sailing
and, more violently, to mimic the action of heavy seas, as in the Cape Horn sequence
(which was supplemented by a­ ctual footage of stormy seas taken aboard a modern
replica of Capt. James Cook’s ship, HMS Endeavour, as it sailed around the Cape
while circumnavigating the globe). For interior shots of the Surprise (and its nem-
esis, the Acheron) Weir had a set built for each deck in sound stages adjacent to the
horizon tank at Baja. Captain Aubrey plays the violin so Russell Crowe had to learn
the instrument: a task he said was the hardest t­ hing he ever learned.

Plot Summary
An opening title card reads: “April—1805 Napoleon is master of Eu­rope. Only the
British fleet stands before him. Oceans are now battlefields.” During the Napole-
onic Wars, Capt. Jack Aubrey (Russell Crowe), commander of the HMS Surprise, a
28-­gun frigate, is ordered to sink, burn, or take as a prize the French privateer
Acheron but Acheron ambushes Surprise off the west coast of South Amer­i­ca. Sur-
prise is towed into the fog to shield itself from further e­ nemy engagement. Aubrey’s
officers tell him that HMS Surprise is no match for Acheron, which has a thicker
hull and many more guns; they advise Aubrey to abandon pursuit. Aubrey points
out his o­ rders are to prevent Acheron from plundering the British whaling fleet. He
commands that the Surprise be repaired while still at sea. Acheron then attacks Sur-
prise again, but Aubrey tricks the Acheron using a raft and ship’s lamp and evades
capture. Following the privateer south, Surprise rounds South Amer­i­ca’s Cape Horn
in high seas. Sadly, a sailor falls overboard when part of a mast breaks off and has
228 M A S T E R A N D C O M M A N D E R : T H E FA R S I D E O F T H E W O R L D

to be cut loose to save the ship. The Surprise then heads to the Galapagos Islands
(885 nautical miles west of Ec­ua­dor), where Aubrey is sure that ­England’s whaling
fleet w­ ill be attacked by Acheron. When Surprise gets to the Galapagos, they find
survivors from a whaling ship already sunk by Acheron. Aubrey deci­ded to follow
­after the privateer. Surprise sits on a calm sea for days on end, and the crew gets
cabin fever. Midshipman Hollom (Lee Ingleby), already unpop­u­lar with the crew,
is named a Jonah figure (i.e., a hex on the ship). As the tension rises, Carpenter’s
Mate Joseph Nagel (Bryan Dick) bumps into Hollom on the deck and refuses to
apologize or salute. Capt. Aubrey witnesses the offense and ­orders that Nagel be
flogged with 12 lashes for insubordination. Hollom kills himself that night. The
next morning, Aubrey holds a memorial for Hollom. The wind resumes, and Sur-
prise continues to pursue the Acheron. The next day, Marine Capt. Howard (Chris
Larkin) accidentally shoots Dr. Stephen Maturin (Paul Bettany), the ship’s surgeon,
in the abdomen. Aubrey abandons his pursuit of the Acheron and returns to the
Galapagos so that his surgeon can be healed. Maturin uses a mirror and performs
his own surgery. Maturin explores the island and collects samples for study, but
the captain and crew soon head out to b ­ attle when they realize that Acheron is close
at hand. Aubrey knows that he ­will need to come close to Acheron in order to board
and dismantle her, so he disguises Surprise as a whaling ship spewing black smoke
from a faux tryworks. The French ship takes the bait and moves in to capture what
it thinks is a whaling vessel. Surprise captures Acheron ­after the crew engages in
fierce hand-­to-­hand combat. Both ships have their damages repaired, and the cap-
tive Acheron is taken to Chile while Surprise stays in the Galapagos. As Acheron
departs, Maturin reveals that the real ship’s doctor had perished months prior: the
man posing as the ship’s doctor was actually the French captain. Aubrey gives the
order to change course to intercept the Acheron and escort her to Valparaíso and
for the crew to assume ­battle stations. The two play a piece by Luigi Boccherini as
the Surprise turns in pursuit of the Acheron once more.

Reception
­After the better part of a year in post-­production, Master and Commander had its
North American premiere on 14 November 2003. Staggered releases elsewhere in
the world began days l­ater and ran to March 2004. During its 26-­week domestic
run (widest release: 3,101 theaters), the film grossed $93.9 million. Foreign receipts
came in at $118 million, for a ­g rand total of $212 million. Deducting $30 mil-
lion spent on marketing, Master and Commander cleared a healthy $32 million.
The movie was nominated for 10 Acad­emy Awards, winning 2 Oscars, for Best
Cinematography (Russell Boyd) and Best Sound Editing (Richard King). Reviews
­were strong. Roger Ebert called the movie “an exuberant sea adventure told with
uncommon intelligence . . . ​­grand and glorious, and touching in its attention to its
characters. Like the work of David Lean, it achieves the epic without losing sight of
the ­human, and to see it is to be reminded of the way ­great action movies can rouse
and exhilarate us, can affirm life instead of simply dramatizing its destruction”
(Ebert, 14 November 2003). Other critics described it as “satisfying,” “an expansive
M E N I N WA R 229

cinematic achievement,” “a gentleman’s action movie,” “­great storytelling,” and “such


fun to watch.”

Reel History Versus Real History


William Mclaughlin calls Master and Commander “one of the most historically accu-
rate movies of this ­century,” but also observes that “the very first ­battle seems
unrealistic, as the Acheron had such a decisive advantage that it is hard to imagine
how the Surprise possibly escaped.” Mclaughlin also points out a late, glaring
­mistake: “At the very end of the film, the captured Acheron is sent to the Spanish
colonial port of Valparaíso in Chile. Not only was Valparaíso farther away than
other acceptable ports, it was also still very underdeveloped by 1805. Its real growth
into a port city d ­ idn’t start u
­ ntil about a de­cade ­later. On top of this Valparaíso
was Spanish and therefore allied with France and Napoleon, something Jack
[Aubrey] would have known. Sending the captured ship t­here would be as good
as giving it back to the French” (Mclaughlin, 2016). Jason Epstein’s assessment of
the movie’s historical accuracy is far harsher. He finds it highly unlikely that the
Admiralty would send “the Surprise across the Atlantic in the fateful year 1805 when
Lord Nelson needs ­every frigate he can muster to defend the homeland.” Epstein
finds it equally unlikely that “the French [would] send the formidable Acheron to
interfere with ­whalers when the combined French and Spanish fleets are prepar-
ing to gather at Toulon and Cadiz for the climactic ­battle that ­w ill end ­later that
year.” Furthermore, Epstein notes that anyone “familiar with the vagaries of ocean
navigation w ­ ill also won­der how, with global positioning technology two centu-
ries in the f­ uture, the Acheron pinpoints the Surprise in the vast South Atlantic and
through an eerie fog sends, without radar or l­aser technology, a thundering salvo
right onto Aubrey’s gun deck” (Epstein, 2003).

M E N I N WA R ( 1 9 5 7 )

Synopsis
Men in War is an American war film adapted from Van Van Praag’s WWII novel,
Day Without End (1949), directed by Anthony Mann and starring Robert Ryan and
Aldo Ray as the leaders of a small detachment of U.S. Army soldiers cut off and
desperately trying to rejoin their division during the Korean War. The events
depicted in the film take place on one day: 6 September 1950.

Background
A former truck salesman from Queens, New York City, named Van Van Praag
enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1939. Promoted through the ranks ­until he was com-
missioned a 2nd Lieutenant in 1944, Van Praag fought in France as a platoon leader,
was severely wounded, and was then shipped home. In the summer of 1949 William
Sloane published Van Praag’s only novel, Day Without End, a brutal day-­in-­the-­life
account of a war-­weary Army platoon on the frontline for 58 straight days since
230 M E N I N WA R

D-­Day, fighting both the ­enemy and severe combat fatigue while stuck in the
deadly hedgerows near Saint-­Lô, France. The novel won high praise by critics for
its taut prose and gritty realism and was republished in paperback by Pocket Books
­under the title Combat in 1951. In 1956 director Anthony Mann bought the screen
rights to Day Without End and (at least officially) hired veteran writer-producer
Philip Yordan to turn Van Praag’s novel into a film. To make the film more topical
to a Cold War audience, the filmmakers decided to transpose the setting from
World War II to the Korean War.

Production
Anthony Mann and co-­producer Sidney Harmon hoped to secure Department of
Defense (DOD) cooperation but that was denied when Pentagon officials vetted the
script and found that it depicted shell shock, insubordination, and unit discipline
in tatters. Without recourse to military hardware Men in War could feature noth-
ing more than a ­couple of jeeps, explosives detonations, and a few soldiers with
small arms and a bazooka or two—­but that was the small-­scale scenario already
dictated by the novel and screenplay. The film was supposedly written by Philip
Yordan but he was likely fronting for blacklisted screenwriter Ben Maddow. It was
shot (in black and white) in Malibu Canyon, Janss Conejo Ranch (Conejo Valley,
California), and Bronson Canyon in Griffith Park, Los Angeles, in July and August
of 1956 on a production bud­get of $1 million.

Plot Summary
On 6 September 1950, a battle-­fatigued platoon of the 24th Infantry Division finds
itself cut off from its battalion and picked off, one by one, by stealthy North Korean
soldiers. Led by Lt. Benson (Robert Ryan), the platoon is on its way to re­unite with
American forces on a distant hill when it encounters a jeep driven by 1st Cavalry
Division Staff Sergeant Joseph R. “Montana” Willomet (Aldo Ray), accompanied
by a shell-­shocked col­o­nel (Robert Keith) who is mute, catatonic, and strapped to
his seat. A­ fter the First B
­ attle of the Naktong Bulge (5–19 August 1950), Montana
has deci­ded he and his col­o­nel are through with the war. Benson commandeers
their jeep for his platoon’s rations and ammo and for Cpl. James Zwickley (Vic Mor-
row), another shell-­shocked combatant. As the platoon proceeds ­towards its ren-
dezvous point, Montana goes against Benson’s order and kills a North Korean sniper
on the verge of surrender. It is discovered that the sniper was hiding a weapon in
his hat. Bringing up the rear, Staff Sgt. Killian (James Edwards) is killed by a North
Korean infiltrator a­ fter decorating his helmet net with daisies. Montana takes his
place by the side of the road and feigns sleep, luring two lurking North Koreans
into the open, where he kills them. Thereafter, Montana transforms the platoon
into a functioning military unit that successfully negotiates a sniper attack, artil-
lery barrage, and a field full of landmines—­though Platoon Sergeant Nate Lewis
(Nehemiah Persoff) panics and gets himself killed. Once at the hill, they find it
occupied by the ­enemy. Montana shoots a group of ­enemy combatants posing as
Americans ­after a North Korean prisoner (Victor Sen Yung) is used to flush them
out and is killed by his own men. Benson leads his men in an attack but Montana
M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S , M R .   L AW R E N C E 231

and the col­o­nel demure—­until the col­o­nel suddenly comes to his senses, joins the
assault, and is fatally wounded by shrapnel from a nearby shell explosion, where-
upon a chastened Montana fi­n ally joins the fight. They take out a pillbox and
machine-­gun nest but only Benson, Montana, and Sgt. Riordan (Phillip Pine) make
it through the ­battle. As U.S. reinforcements approach, Benson asks Montana for
the Silver Star medals meant for the col­o­nel’s men. As Benson calls out their names,
Montana tosses the medals to their dead recipients.

Reception
Released in February 1957, Men in War was only modestly successful at the box
office, earning $1.5 million—­just a half million dollars more than it cost to make.
Due to the film’s subversively mordant stance on war and the military, con­temporary
reviews w­ ere likewise mixed. Conservative film critic Bosley Crowther called Men
in War “one long display of horror and misery” and wondered “what audience, if
any, should be recommended to this film” (Crowther, 20 March 1957). Conversely,
film critic Edith Lindeman described Men in War as offering “a tight, realistic and
well-­knit story” (Lindeman, 1957). Jay Carmody observed that the movie dug for
“truths which have been evaded or distorted in so many celluloid spectaculars on
the same subject” (Carmody, 1957). Since its initial release Men in War’s reputa-
tion as a hidden gem of war films has grown steadily over the years.

Real History Versus Reel History


The precisely stated time frame of Men in War (6 September 1950) places it in the
­middle of the Second B ­ attle of Naktong Bulge, an engagement between United
Nations (UN) and North Korean (NK) forces (1 September–15 September 1950) that
was a part of the larger ­Battle of Pusan Perimeter. The Second ­Battle at Naktong
ended in victory for the United Nations a­ fter U.S. and Republic of K ­ orea (ROK)
troops repelled a strong North Korean attack. In the movie the men wear taro
leaf shoulder patches indicating t­hey’re part of the 24th  Infantry Division. Sta-
tioned in Japan when North K ­ orea invaded South K­ orea on 25 June 1950, the
24th was indeed the first division sent to ­Korea to hold off the North Korean
advance ­until more troops could arrive. It sustained extremely heavy casualties in
the first two months of the war, but some of its battered ele­ments ­were still on the
frontlines of the Pusan Perimeter in early September, as depicted in the film. Nar-
rowly focused on a depleted and isolated platoon, Men in War does not allude to or
pretend to represent the b­ attle at Naktong or any specific Korean War engagement.

M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S , M R .   L AW R E N C E [ J A PA N E S E :
SENJŌ NO MERĪ KURISUMASU] (1983)

Synopsis
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence is a British-­Japanese war film directed by Nagisa
Oshima and produced by Jeremy Thomas. Starring David Bowie, Tom Conti,
Ryuichi Sakamoto, Takeshi Kitano, and Jack Thompson, the film centers on four
232 M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S , M R .   L AW R E N C E

men in a World War II Japa­nese prisoner of war (POW) camp: two Allied and two
Japa­nese soldiers.

Background
Sir Laurens Jan van der Post (1906–1996) was a South African–­born author and
Jungian mystic, advisor to Prince Charles and Margaret Thatcher, and the godfather
of Prince William, among other distinctions. ­A fter his death, however, an exposé
by J.D.F. Jones—­Storyteller: The Lives of Laurens van der Post—­revealed that van
der Post had been a lifelong opportunist and con man. During World War II Van
der Post, who was fluent in Japa­nese, served in the British Army in the Dutch East
Indies (present-­d ay Indonesia) and was captured on 20 April 1942, when Java
fell. Van der Post spent the remainder of the war as a POW in Japa­nese prison
camps in Sukabumi and Bandung, both in West Java, Indonesia. A ­ fter the war
he wrote three books of fiction based on his prison camp experiences: A Bar of
Shadow (1954), The Seed and the Sower (1963), and The Night of the New Moon (1970).
In the early 1980s Japa­nese director Nagisa Ôshima (In the Realm of the Senses) col-
laborated with British screenwriter Paul Mayersburg (The Man Who Fell to Earth) on
a script based on the first two stories in The Seed and the Sower and mounted a joint
Anglo-­Japanese film proj­ect produced by Jeremy Thomas and financed by New Zea-
land, British, and Japa­nese investors. Singer/actor Kenji Sawada was Ôshima’s first
choice for POW camp commandant Capt. Yonoi—­a character conceived in the
image of Yukio Mishima—­but Sawada had to drop out due to scheduling issues.
Ôshima briefly considered Tomokazu Miura for Yonoi but hired rock star Ryuichi
Sakamoto ­because he had an androgynous appearance similar to Sawada (Saka-
moto also composed the film’s musical score). Samurai movie star Shintaro Katsu
(Kagemusha) was first choice for Sgt. Hara, but the part eventually went to Takeshi
Kitano. Robert Redford was allegedly considered for the role of Major Jack Celliers
but Ôshima cast the more age-­appropriate David Bowie ­after seeing him in a Japa­
nese TV saké ad and then in a Broadway production of The Elephant Man in 1980.
British stage actor Tom Conti was cast as van der Post’s fictional counterpart (and
Celliers’ foil), Col. John Lawrence.

Production
Filming took place over a seven-­week period (September–­November 1982). The
first five weeks of the shoot occurred on Rarotonga in the Cook Islands, northeast
of New Zealand. Ôshima hired lots of island natives as extras (British POW extras
­were recruited from New Zealand). He also had a complete POW camp built, but
only filmed small portions of it. Ôshima meticulously directed his Japa­nese actors
but when it came to the British actors, they ­were told to “do what­ever it is you
­people do.” Ôshima worked fast; he shot only one or two takes and did not screen
dailies or even make safety prints; prints of each day’s shoot w
­ ere shipped to his
editor, Tomoyo Oshima, in Japan (she had a rough cut of the film completed within
four days of Ôshima’s returning to Japan at the end of the shoot). For the last two
weeks of the shoot the com­pany moved to New Zealand. Scenes ­were shot at
Wanganui Collegiate School, doubling for a boarding school in South Africa; at
M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S , M R .   L AW R E N C E 233

Auckland Railway Station, doubling for a station in Batavia (Jakarta); and at Mount
Eden Prison, Auckland, representing Hara’s prison in 1946.

Plot Summary
The film deals with the complex relationships among four men in a WWII Japa­
nese POW camp, two Allied and two Japa­nese soldiers: Major Jack Celliers (David
Bowie), a rebellious South African harboring a guilty secret; Captain Yonoi (Ryuichi
Sakamoto), the young camp commandant; Lt. Col. John Lawrence (Tom Conti), a
British officer who has lived in Japan and speaks fluent Japa­nese; and Sgt. Hara
(Takeshi Kitano), a brutal but principled noncommissioned officer with whom Law-
rence strikes up a friendship. Celliers suffers from guilt for having betrayed his
younger ­brother while both w ­ ere attending boarding school in South Africa. Con-
versely, Yonoi feels an overwhelming sense of shame. Having been posted to Man-
churia, he was unable to be in Tokyo when his Army comrades, the “Shining Young
Officers,” staged a military coup d’état in 1936 (i.e., the “February 26 Incident”).
When the coup failed, Yonoi’s comrades ­were all executed, and Yonoi feels ill at
ease with his own survival. Although Celliers confesses his guilty secret only to
Lawrence, Capt. Yonoi senses that Celliers is a kindred spirit. Yonoi develops a
homoerotic fixation with him and wants to replace British RAAF Group Capt. Hick-
sley (Jack Thompson) with Celliers as the prisoners’ advocate. Celliers, nicknamed
“Strafer” Jack for his grit, instigates acts of re­sis­tance. Yonoi’s batman (personal
servant) tries to eliminate Celliers, thinking him to be a terrible influence on Yonoi,
but Celliers evades him and escapes. As Celliers attempts to rescue Lawrence, Yonoi
intervenes, challenging Celliers to single combat and promising to ­free him if he
wins, but Celliers refuses to fight. Yonoi’s disgraced batman then commits sep-
puku (ritual suicide). Soon thereafter the Japa­nese uncover a radio in the posses-
sion of the POWs. Celliers and Lawrence are forced to take the blame and are
marked for execution. During Christmas Eve 1942, an inebriated Sgt. Hara calls
for Celliers and Lawrence and, to their surprise, releases the two men. Yonoi is
shocked that Sgt. Hara has released both Celliers and Lawrence from their hold-
ing cells but only mildly reprimands him for exceeding his authority and has him
redeployed. Hicksley demands an explanation. Furious that Hicksley has pressed
him for an answer, Yonoi has the ­whole camp put on parade—­all POWs, including
the sick and wounded, are ordered to form lines outside their barracks. Capt. Yonoi
then singles out Hicksley for execution by beheading. Breaking ranks, Celliers
calmly walks up and places himself between Yonoi and Hicksley. Yonoi angrily
shoves him aside, but Celliers gets up and impassively kisses Yonoi on each
cheek. Mortified by an act that so deeply offends his bushido honor code, Yonoi
reaches out for his katana against Celliers but collapses in an onrush of conflicted
feelings: angry frustration, embarrassment, and his unacknowledged love for Cel-
liers. Capt. Yonoi’s soldiers immediately take over, beating and stomping Celliers for
his insolence. Now compromised, Yonoi is slated for redeployment. His successor
(Hideo Murota) punishes Celliers by having him buried in the ground up to his
neck and left to die. When they are alone, Yonoi extracts a lock of Celliers’ hair
as a memento. Celliers dies soon a­ fter. In 1946, Lawrence visits Sgt. Hara, now
234 MIDNIGHT CLEAR, A

a prisoner of the Allies. In En­glish, Hara explains that his execution for war
crimes is scheduled for the next day. Lawrence reveals that Yonoi passed along
Celliers’ hair and asked that Lawrence place it in a shrine in his home village in
Japan. Hara shares memories about Celliers and Yonoi, and it is confirmed that
Yonoi was killed before the end of the war.

Reception
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence premiered at the 36th Cannes Film Festival on 11
May 1983 and won a Palme D’Or nomination for Ôshima. Ryuichi Sakamoto sub-
sequently won a BAFTA Award for Best Score. The film also garnered a number
Japa­nese film nominations and awards but was not successful at the box office.
Reviews w ­ ere mixed. Roger Ebert gave the movie a tepid two and a half stars out
of four, opining that it was “even stranger than it was intended to be” (Ebert, 1983).
Janet Maslin found the movie “sometimes tense and surprising, sometimes merely
bizarre . . . ​an intriguing if inconsistent effort” (Maslin, 1983). Laurens van der Post
gave the film high marks, calling it “a ­great and deeply moving film.” Not widely
seen outside of Japan, Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence remains a favorite with cult-
ists. In the astute words of one reviewer, “Merry Christmas is not the story of the
West’s civilizing influence on the East, but rather of individuals reaching past the
flotsam of repression common to all socie­ties and daring to touch the h ­ uman being
buried beneath” (Erdman, 2010).

Real History Versus Reel History


Laurens van der Post supposedly based his POW fiction on his real-­life experi-
ences during World War II, so certainly many aspects of prison camp life as depicted
in Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence have a respectable degree of authenticity. Mal-
nutrition, pervasive sickness, back-­breaking work, the brutality of the Japa­nese
­toward their prisoners of war—­all t­hese ­things are well documented elsewhere.
Other than Col. Lawrence, who is clearly based on the author himself, ­there is no
way of knowing w ­ hether the principal characters correspond to a­ ctual persons who
van der Post knew during his captivity. Given van der Post’s well-­documented pen-
chant for creative storytelling to serve didactic purposes (or his own agenda), it
seems likely that much of the film’s narrative, which closely follows his fiction, is
fanciful. Certainly viewers ­will recognize parallels to David Lean’s The Bridge on the
River Kwai, especially the vexed character and personality of prison camp comman-
dant Yonoi, who bears considerable resemblance to Kwai’s Col. Saito, played by Ses-
sue Hayakawa.

MIDNIGHT CLEAR, A (1992)

Synopsis
Based on the eponymous novel by William Wharton, A Midnight Clear is an Amer-
ican war drama set t­ oward the end of World War II in Eu­rope. Adapted and directed
by Keith Gordon, the movie stars an ensemble cast: Ethan Hawke, Gary Sinise,
MIDNIGHT CLEAR, A 235

Peter Berg, Kevin Dillon, and Arye Gross. A low-­budget in­de­pen­dent feature, A Mid-
night Clear tells the story of an isolated American intelligence squad that encoun-
ters a German unit trying to surrender.

Background
William Wharton (real name: Albert William Du Aime, 1925–2008) was an Amer-
ican writer and expressionist painter who served in the U.S. Army in WWII. A
product of the Army’s Specialized Training Program (ASTP) for G.I.s with genius
IQs, Wharton was severely wounded in the B ­ attle of the Bulge and many of his
ASTP comrades w ­ ere killed. In the prologue to his war memoir, Shrapnel, Whar-
ton says he wrote his third novel, A Midnight Clear, ­because he thought the U.S.
­under bellicose President Ronald Reagan was about “to re-­establish the draft of
young men, to send them off to kill or be killed. I felt an obligation to tell some-
thing about war as I knew it, in all its absurdity . . . ​War for me, though brief, had
been a soul-­shaking trauma. I was scared, miserable, and I lost confidence in ­human
beings, especially myself” (Wharton, 1982, p. ii). While Wharton’s anti-­war novel
was still in galleys, A & M Film’s president Dale Pollock purchased the movie rights.
Initially, British playwright Trevor Griffiths (Reds) was hired to write an adapta-
tion and John Mackenzie (The Long Good Friday) was hired to direct but Pollock
remained unsatisfied. In 1987 he hired Patrick Sheane Duncan (84 Charlie MoPic)
to write another version of the script and Randa Haines (­Children of a Lesser God)
to replace Mackenzie as director, but the proj­ect remained unworkable. A ­ fter view-
ing Keith Gordon’s The Choco­late War (1988), Pollock hired Gordon to bring the
proj­ect to fruition.

Production
Originally planned to be filmed in Yugo­slavia (present-­day Slovenia) in 1990, a
lack of snow t­ here necessitated a change of location and a year’s delay. Snowy ever-
green forests near Park City, Utah, substituted nicely for the Ardennes Forest near
the French-­German border in the winter of 1944–1945. The exterior of the chateau
was actually a three-­wall set, which was built in the secluded hills of Utah, and the
interiors of the chateau w­ ere built in the gymnasium of a local high school. The
attic set was constructed on the stage of the school’s theater. Shooting the outdoor
scenes, especially the night scenes, proved grueling as Utah experienced its cold-
est winter in 83 years.

Plot Summary
Just before the ­Battle of the Bulge in December 1944, U.S. Army Major Griffin
(John C. McGinley) sends a small I&R (Intelligence and Reconnaissance) squad to
inhabit an empty chateau near the German lines to keep an eye on ­enemy deploy-
ments. Losses from an earlier patrol have reduced the squad from 12 to 6 men:
Sgt. W
­ ill Knott (Ethan Hawke), Bud Miller (Peter Berg), Mel Avakian (Kevin
Dillon), Stan Shutzer (Arye Gross), Vance “­Mother” Wilkins (Gary Sinise), and
Paul “­Father” Mundy (Frank Whaley). On their way to the chateau in two jeeps,
they encounter an eerie, surreal sight on the road: the frozen corpses of a German
236 MIDNIGHT CLEAR, A

and American soldier poised in a standing embrace, evidently arranged by the Ger-
mans as some sort of dark joke—or ominous threat. Settling into the chateau,
they soon discover they are not alone. A group of Wehrmacht soldiers nearby
reveals their presence that night with ominous laughter and taunting shouts of
“Schlafen Sie gut!” (Sleep well!). Out on patrol, Knott, Mundy, and Shutzer are
suddenly confronted by a trio of German soldiers aiming their weapons at them.
The Americans panic and put their hands up in surrender but the ­enemy just as
suddenly vanishes. At first the Americans think the Germans—­a small group of
teen­agers commanded by a middle-­aged noncommissioned officer (NCO)—­are
mocking them, but then realize the Germans want to surrender to survive the
war. They ask the Americans to pretend to have captured them in combat to pro-
tect their families back home from retribution. The Americans agree, but elect not
to inform Wilkins, who has become half-­crazed since learning of the death of his
child stateside. The two groups meet at a forest cabin and proceed to fire their
weapons into the air to simulate a skirmish, as planned. Unfortunately Wilkins,
nearby, hears the gunfire. Thinking the engagement is real, he rushes to the scene
and opens fire at the Germans. Naturally, the Germans start to shoot back. As the
situation spirals out of control, Knott’s men are forced to eliminate all e­ nemy sol-
diers, but not before Mundy is fatally shot and Shutzer badly wounded. As he is
­dying, Mundy begs the o­ thers not to tell Wilkins that the skirmish was staged.
The always petulant Major Griffin arrives, harangues Knott, and takes Shutzer
back for medical treatment (who ­later dies). The four remaining soldiers ritualisti-
cally bathe Mundy’s body. The soldiers are then left with no choice but to flee
from the chateau as German forces advance. Knott’s men dress themselves as
medics and carry Mundy’s corpse back to American lines. T ­ here Knott learns that
Wilkins has been recommended for the Bronze Star and transferred to the motor
pool, while the rest of the squad ­w ill be sent into the frontline to fight as regular
infantry.

Reception
A low-­budget in­de­pen­dent production, A Midnight Clear received minimal theatri-
cal exhibition when it was released in April 1992 (only seven theaters) and ini-
tially earned a mere $1.5 million—­less than half of what it cost to make. Shown
occasionally on tele­vi­sion and eventually released on DVD and Blu-­ray (an enhanced
20th anniversary edition), the movie has since found a somewhat larger and more
appreciative audience. Though war film traditionalists dislike A Midnight Clear due
to its surreal qualities, lack of combat heroics, use of religious imagery, and decid-
edly ce­re­bral and pacifist leanings, reviews w
­ ere mostly positive, like Roger Ebert’s:
“A Midnight Clear is a l­ittle too much of a parable for my taste—­there are times
when the characters seem to be acting out of the author’s need, rather than their
own—­but it’s a good film, and Gordon is uncanny in the way he suggests the eerie
forest mysteries that permeate all of the action” (Ebert, 1 May 1992).

Reel History Versus Real History


It is well known that during World War I some 100,000 British and German troops
called a truce and fraternized in sectors of the front at Ypres and Saint-­Yvon,
MIDNIGHT CLEAR, A 237

Belgium, on Christmas Day 1914: “live and let live” be­hav­ior that was not repeated,
per strict ­orders of the British High Command. Truces ­were almost unheard of dur-
ing WWII but a small-­scale Christmas truce did occur during the B ­ attle of the
Bulge. At a remote cabin in the Hürtgen Forest three American and four German
soldiers—­all lost, tired, and hungry—­were treated to an impromptu Christmas
Eve supper by a German ­woman named Elisabeth Vincken, who told them all, “Es
ist Heiligabend und hier wird nicht geschossen.” [“It is the Holy Night and ­there
­w ill be no shooting h ­ ere.”] She insisted they leave their weapons outside. The sol-
diers complied and enjoyed a brief respite from the war (Hunt, 2017).
P
PAT H S O F G L O R Y ( 1 9 5 7 )

Synopsis
Paths of Glory is an American anti-­war film by Stanley Kubrick based on the 1935
novel of the same title by WWI combat veteran Humphrey Cobb. Set during World
War I, the film stars Kirk Douglas as Col­o­nel Dax, the commanding officer of a
French regiment involved in a failed attack on a German stronghold. Dax, a ­lawyer
in civilian life, attempts to defend three of his subordinates against a charge of cow-
ardice in an ensuing court-­martial.

Background
Humphrey Cobb (1899–1944) was an American expatriate who served with the
Canadian Expeditionary Forces (CEF) in the First World War and was wounded
and gassed at the B­ attle of Amiens in August 1918. In 1934 Cobb read a news item
about the posthumous exoneration of five French soldiers who had been executed
by firing squad a­ fter their unit refused to join a suicidal attack in the St. Mihiel
sector on 19 April 1915 (Anonymous, 2 July 1934). Incensed by the absurd injus-
tice of the original incident, Cobb was inspired to write Paths of Glory, a highly
acclaimed anti-­war novel published by Viking Press in 1935. That same year Sid-
ney Howard staged an unsuccessful Broadway play based on Cobb’s book and Par-
amount won a bidding war for the film rights, but let its option lapse. In 1956
James B. Harris and Stanley Kubrick bought the rights from Cobb’s w ­ idow for
$10,000 and tried to interest Dore Schary at MGM but he refused, citing the
recent box office disaster that was John Huston’s The Red Badge of Courage. Unde-
terred, Harris hired Jim Thompson to write a screen adaptation of Cobb’s novel.
Kubrick, Thompson, and Calder Willingham had a second draft completed by
late November 1956. Kubrick and Harris wanted Gregory Peck to play the lead role
of Col. Dax but he was not immediately available. They tried to interest Charlton
Heston but he signed with Orson Welles to star in Touch of Evil (1958), so they
secured Kirk Douglas instead, who demanded a $350,000 salary, profit sharing,
and other perks. On the strength of Douglas’s involvement, United Artists (UA)
agreed to provide a modest $954,000 production bud­get, a third of which would
pay for Douglas’s salary.

Production
Though supposedly taking place in France, Paths of Glory was filmed in and around
Munich, Bavaria, in the spring of 1957. Most interior scenes w
­ ere filmed at Bavaria’s
Geiselgasteig Studios. The court-­martial scenes ­were shot at New Schleissheim
PAT H S O F G L O R Y 239

Palace outside Munich, and the execution scene was shot in the palace’s baroque
gardens. UA wanted to film the battlefield scenes on Geiselgasteig Studios’ backlot
but it proved too small. Eventually a cow pasture 25 miles west of Munich was
rented from a German farmer, and some 60 crew members worked long hours for
three weeks to create a muddy, debris-­strewn World War I battlefield, complete
with trenches, barbed wire, ruined buildings, denuded trees, and huge shell cra-
ters. World War I trenches w ­ ere four feet wide but Kubrick’s trenches had to be
made six feet wide to accommodate the camera dolly for the film’s famous reverse
tracking shots in the opening sequence. For the main combat scene Kubrick used
a half-­dozen cameras set up sequentially on a long dolly that ran parallel to the
assault. The battlefield was divided into five “­dying zones,” and each extra (all Ger-
man policemen) was given a number ranging from 1 to 5 and told to “die” in that
zone, if pos­si­ble, near an explosion. Hedging his bets on the film’s commercial
potential, Kubrick wanted an upbeat ending, but Kirk Douglas insisted that the
movie stay true to Cobb’s somber vision. Fortunately, Douglas won out.

Plot Summary
The film begins with a voice-­over describing trench warfare up to 1916. At his head-
quarters in an elegant château, Gen. Georges Broulard (Adolphe Menjou), a mem-
ber of the French General Staff, asks his subordinate, Gen. Mireau (George
Macready), to send his division against a well-­defended German fortress dubbed
the “Anthill.” Convinced the attack is doomed to fail, Mireau initially refuses, but
when Broulard mentions a potential promotion, Mireau reverses himself. On an
inspection tour of the trenches, Mireau asks several soldiers, “Ready to kill more
Germans?” Encountering a dazed, shell-­shocked private (Fred Bell), Mireau ejects
him from out of the regiment for alleged cowardice. Mireau then meets with the
701st Regiment’s commanding officer, Col­o­nel Dax (Kirk Douglas), to plan the
attack. During a recon mission before the assault, an inebriated lieutenant named
Roget (Wayne Morris) sends out a scout to check the terrain, but panics and acci-
dentally kills the man with a grenade upon his return. Another soldier—­Corporal
Paris (Ralph Meeker)—­discovers the scout’s body and ­later confronts Roget, who
does not admit to the crime and provides a false report to Dax. The next day, Dax
leads the first wave of soldiers on the attack on the Anthill amidst intense fire, but
the assault fails. None of the troops make it to the German trenches, and the B men
of Com­pany decline to leave their trenches. Mireau commands his artillery to open
fire on the “cowards” to encourage them into ­battle. However, artillery commander
Rousseau (John Stein) ­won’t fire without confirmation. In the meantime, Dax comes
back to the trenches and attempts to spur B Com­pany into action. In the aftermath
of the failed attack, Mireau chooses to court-­martial 100 of his own soldiers for
alleged cowardice, as he does not want to take on any blame for himself. Broulard
urges him to reduce the number to three: one from each com­pany. Mireau chooses
Corporal Paris, Private Ferol (Timothy Carey), and Private Arnaud (Joe Turkel).
Dax, who served as a criminal defense ­lawyer before the war, volunteers to defend
the men in court. The trial soon devolves into a farce. Despite Dax’s best efforts,
the three hapless soldiers are found guilty and handed a death sentence. Captain
Rousseau the commander who had earlier refused to shoot at Mireau’s own men,
240 PAT H S O F G L O R Y

shares his story with Dax. Dax approaches Broulard with witness statements
incriminating Mireau, but he is waved away dismissively. The three condemned
men are ­later brought outdoors, with their fellow soldiers and commanding officers
surrounding them. All three men are then executed by firing squad. A ­ fter the
sentence is carried out, Broulard meets Mireau for breakfast and finds him giddy
with the result of the court-­martial. Dax interrupts them, and Broulard tells Mireau
that he ­will be investigated for his actions. Mireau departs in a fury, and Broulard
then offers Dax Mirau’s post. A disgusted Dax calls Broulard a “degenerate, sadistic
old man.” ­After the execution, Dax joins his soldiers on leave, drinking at an inn.
Their mood shifts from antagonism to empathy as they listen to a captive German
girl (Christiane Harlan) sing “The Faithful Hussar,” a sentimental folk song. They
are unaware that ­orders have come for them to return to the front. Dax lets the
men enjoy a few minutes while his face hardens as he returns to his quarters.

Reception
Paths of Glory premiered on 1 November  1957  in Munich, West Germany, and
opened in the United States the following month, but the movie’s class-­inflected
anti-­war politics made it box office poison throughout much of Eu­rope. UA did not
even bother to submit the film to the French censorship board, knowing that it
would be banned for its unflattering depiction of France’s military (Paths would
not be shown in France u ­ ntil 1975). When the movie was screened in Berlin in
June 1958 it caused an uproar with French occupation troops stationed ­there and
had to be withdrawn from the Berlin Film Festival when the French threatened to
withdraw altogether if it was exhibited. Weeks l­ater the movie was banned at all
American military bases in Eu­rope. In Spain, Francisco Franco’s government also
banned the film as anti-­military. It was not shown u
­ ntil 1986, 11 years a­ fter Fran-
co’s death. In Switzerland, the film was censored at the request of the Swiss Army
­until 1970. B
­ ecause it was so often banned, box office returns w­ ere modest (less
than $1 million) and Paths of Glory did not quite break even.

Reel History Versus Real History


As noted earlier, Humphrey Cobbs’ novel was initially inspired by postwar revela-
tions about the execution of five French soldiers from 5th Com­pany, 63rd Infan-
try Regiment, a­ fter their unit refused to join an attack in the St. Mihiel sector on
19 April 1915. Many similar injustices ­were perpetrated by the French Army dur-
ing the First World War—­France carried out some 550 military executions—­but
Cobb’s novel and Kubrick’s film both derive from a particularly egregious incident
known as the “Souain Corporals Affair.” On 10 March 1915, near the Marne vil-
lage of Souain, Gen. Géraud Réveilhac, commander of France’s 60th Infantry Divi-
sion, ordered his artillery to fire on his own trenches when the 21st com­pany of
the 336th Infantry Regiment refused to go over the top and attack ­after a first wave
was mowed down by German machine-­gun fire. As depicted in the movie, the artil-
lery commander (the real man’s name was Col. Raoul Berube) refused to obey his
general’s command without a written order. Réveilhac did not issue one, but in
the wake of the failed attack he demanded that action be taken against the soldiers
PAT T O N 241

of the 21st Com­pany. Réveilhac ordered its commander, Capt. Equilbey, to pro-


duce a list of names that included six corporals and 18 enlisted men, randomly
chosen by lot from the two youn­gest members in ­every squad. Six days ­after the
failed attack, the 24 men w ­ ere court-­martialed for cowardice by a military tribu-
nal, quickly convicted, and sentenced to death. Though 20 w ­ ere subsequently
granted stays, 4 of the soldiers—­Cpls. Théophile Maupas, Lefoulon Louis, Louis
Girard, and Lucien Lechat—­were executed by firing squad on 17 March 1915. Two
of the four ­were married, three had c­ hildren, and Maupas had been repeatedly cited
for bravery in b ­ attle. Like Mireau in the film, Réveilhac did not escape repercus-
sions. In 1916 he was relieved of command and l­ater reassigned to rear echelon
duty. In 1921 public outrage ensued when Réveilhac’s callous actions at Souain ­were
revealed in the press. Nonetheless, Blanche Maupas and Eulalie Lechat, two of the
victims’ ­w idows, would have to wait another 13 years to gain any satisfaction from
the French ­legal system. Fi­nally, on 3 March 1934, a judge with the Cour spéciale
de justice (Special Court of Justice) ordered the French Army to exonerate the four
men and restore their ranks so their w ­ idows and dependents could receive pen-
sions. The story told by Cobb and Kubrick distills the history to achieve both greater
dramatic concentration and deeper sociopo­liti­cal resonance. In book and film only
three men are court-­martialed, convicted, and executed. Their defense attorney,
the fictional Col. Dax, is also their regimental commander, which was not the case
in actuality—­though the perfunctory nature of the court martial proceedings is
true to the historical real­ity. A brave and caring officer and an articulate advocate
for l­egal justice, Dax expresses civilized moral ideals that w­ ere entirely absent at
the ­actual court-­martial in 1915. Both book and movie also address questions of
social caste elitism and careerism in the military that are merely implicit in the
historical source material. Fi­nally, book and movie elide the ­w idows’ protracted
fight to have their martyred husbands’ names cleared—an in­ter­est­ing historical
footnote but one that would dilute the admonitory power of both works.

PAT T O N ( 1 9 7 0 )

Synopsis
Patton is an American biopic/war epic directed by Franklin J. Schaffner from a script
by Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North. The film focuses on General
George S. Patton (played by George C. Scott) during his World War II ser­v ice as
commander of the U.S. Seventh and Third armies.

Background
General George Smith Patton Jr. (1885–1945), commander of the U.S. Seventh
Army in North Africa and Sicily and the U.S. Third Army in France and Germany
during World War II, was one of the most colorful and controversial figures in mod-
ern American military history. Known as “Old Blood and Guts,” Patton was a
strutting, profanity-­spouting, war-­loving egomaniac, but also an effective military
leader much feared by Amer­i­ca’s enemies—­and sometimes feared and reviled by
242 PAT T O N

George C. Scott portrays General George S. Patton in Frank Schaffner’s epic biopic,
Patton (1970). (20th ­Century Fox/Photofest)

his own men. Frank McCarthy (1912–1986), a staff officer with Gen. George C.
Marshall during World War II and a Hollywood producer ­after the war, knew Patton
and regarded his story as eminently screen-­worthy. When he proposed a Patton film
to his boss, Darryl F. Zanuck, at 20th ­Century Fox in October 1951, Zanuck gave
the go-­ahead, but it would be another 19 years before the proj­ect came to fruition.
Patton’s w
­ idow and other members of the Patton ­family obstructed McCarthy, fear-
ing that a Hollywood biopic would caricature Patton and sully his memory (Top-
lin, 1996, pp. 158–159). McCarthy was only able to move forward a­ fter Ladislas
Farago’s biography, Patton: Ordeal and Triumph provided a source copious enough
upon which to base a biopic without recourse to f­amily sources. 20th ­Century
Fox bought the film rights to Farago’s book and to Gen. Omar Bradley’s A Soldier’s
Story. In 1965, ­after rejecting several script drafts by other writers, Frank McCar-
thy hired an up-­and-­coming 26-­year-­old screenwriter named Francis Ford Cop-
pola, paid him $50,000, and gave him six months to carve a coherent narrative
out of Patton’s complex life and military ­career. Coppola wisely made two tactical
decisions early on that allowed him to create a fine script. A­ fter d
­ oing his research,
Coppola concluded that “Patton was obviously out of his mind” (Phillips, 2004,
pp. 31–32). A script that celebrated George Patton’s bizarre war-­mongering would
be ridicu­lous but one that merely vilified him would be rejected out of hand, so
PAT T O N 243

Coppola split the difference by writing an ambiguous script that emphasized


Patton’s dual nature—­part lunatic, part super-­warrior—­a nd depicted him as an
anachronistic, Quixotic figure who r­ eally belonged to a bygone era. Coppola’s
other choice was an easy one: to focus exclusively on Patton’s life during the Sec-
ond World War, a span of only two years and ten months (ten months of which he
was sidelined), that kept the narrative tightly focused and action packed. McCarthy
engaged William Wyler (The Best Years of Our Lives) to direct the picture but Wyler
­didn’t like Coppola’s unconventional script, so James Webb (Cheyenne Autumn)
was brought in to write a new version. To play Patton, McCarthy and the studio
wanted George C. Scott, a superb actor and ironically an avowed pacifist, but Scott
found Webb’s script too reductive so he bowed out. Robert Mitchum, Burt Lan-
caster, Rod Steiger, and Lee Marvin all turned down the role. John Wayne badly
wanted to play Patton but his utterly dissimilar appearance, laconic manner, and
narrow range as an actor made him a poor choice to play the shorter, more volatile,
and markedly more educated and intelligent Patton. Fortunately, George C. Scott
consented to do the film when McCarthy agreed to revert back to Coppola’s script,
though veteran screenwriter Edmund H. North (Twelve ­O’Clock High) made further
revisions. Scott then proceeded to do exhaustive research on Patton, watching
newsreels and reading and re-­reading ­every Patton biography in order to master his
character. In the meantime Wyler dropped out as director and was replaced by
Frank Schaffner (Planet of the Apes). By early 1969, ­after five years of shuffling and
reshuffling, Frank McCarthy fi­nally had a script, a star, and a director.

Production
Principal photography began outside of Segovia, Spain, on 1 February 1969. Pat-
ton was filmed at 71 locations in six countries, but most of it was shot in Spain
­because Francisco Franco’s Spanish Army could provide the needed WWII
equipment—­though the rental of troops and equipment consumed half the film’s
$12 million production bud­get. The film’s opening, showing the aftermath of the
American defeat at the B ­ attle of the Kasserine Pass, was shot at the ruins of Taber-
nas ­Castle in Almeria Province on the coast of southern Spain. The place where
Patton halts Rommel’s advance t­owards Messina is located just below the village
of Turillas, 12 miles east of Tabernas. Some 600 Almeria residents worked as extras
for the scene depicting Patton’s arrival in Palermo, Sicily, which was actually filmed
in Nicolás Salmerón Park in the City of Almeria. ­After the B ­ attle of El Guettar, Pat-
ton meets his new aide de camp at his headquarters, which was in real­ity the Gov-
ernor’s Palace of Almeria, and when Patton marches down a long corridor a­ fter
the slapping incident, he is actually in La Granja Palace near Madrid. The winter
scenes in Belgium w ­ ere actually shot near Segovia. The scene depicting Patton driv-
ing up to an ancient city that is implied to be Carthage was actually shot in the
ruins of the ancient Roman city of Volubilis in northwest Morocco. Patton’s speech
to the troops that opens the movie was shot at Bob Hope Patriotic Hall in down-
town Los Angeles.
244 PAT T O N

Plot Summary
Gen. George S. Patton (George C. Scott), in full military regalia, strides on to a stage
at some undisclosed location in Eu­rope during World War II. With a ­giant Ameri-
can flag ­behind him, he addresses an unseen group of American troops to rally
them in support of the war, zeroing in on the importance of “winning” American
style. The film proper begins with the humiliating American defeat at the ­Battle of
the Kasserine Pass (19 February 1943–25 February 1943). Replacing Major Gen-
eral Lloyd Fredendall, Patton is put in charge of the U.S. Army’s II Corps in North
Africa. Upon his arrival, he cracks down on the soldiers and enforces rules, for
example, demanding that soldiers wear ties and fining a cook for not wearing his
Army-­issue uniform. At a meeting with RAF Air Vice-­Marshal Sir Arthur Coning-
ham (John Barrie), Patton takes issue with Coningham for having discredited the
notion that lack of air cover contributed to the American defeat. Coningham apol-
ogizes and promises Patton that he ­w ill see no more German planes. Seconds ­later
Luftwaffe planes bomb and strafe the area, and Patton emerges from cover to fire
his .45 at them. In the next scene, Patton defeats a German attack at the B ­ attle of
El Guettar in Tunisia (23 March–3 April 1943), but his aide-­de-­camp, Major Rich-
ard N. Jenson (Morgan Paull), is killed in the b ­ attle. Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
(Paul Stevens) replaces him. Patton is disappointed to learn that Field Marshall
Erwin Rommel, Commander of the Afrika Korps, was on medical leave with diph-
theria. Codman reassures him that “If ­you’ve defeated Rommel’s plan, ­you’ve
defeated Rommel.” ­After victory in the North Africa campaign, Patton and Sir Ber-
nard Montgomery (Michael Bates) formulate competing plans for the Allied inva-
sion of Sicily. Patton’s plan is to lead his Seventh Army to the northwest sending
Montgomery to the southeast area of the island in an attempt to trap German and
Italian units. Their superior officer, Gen. Alexander (Jack Gwillim), likes Patton’s
plan, but Gen. Dwight Eisenhower (not portrayed on screen) opts for Montgom-
ery’s conservative approach. As a result, Patton’s army heads southeast to cover
Montgomery’s troops. All land without a hitch, but the Allied advance is sluggish,
and Patton takes m ­ atters into his own hands. G ­ oing against his superiors, Patton
leads his men to Palermo in the northwest, then continues on to Messina, outpacing
Montgomery to their objective (17 August 1943). Patton states that his contention
with Montgomery stems from Montgomery’s inability to admit his own vanity and
glory-­seeking ambitions. However, Patton’s methods do not go over well with the
men he commands, Major Gen. Omar Bradley (Karl Malden) and Major Gen. Lucian
Truscott (John Doucette). While on a visit to a field hospital (early August 1943)
crowded with ­battle casualties, Patton sees a shaken soldier weeping (Tim Consi-
dine). Angrily labeling the soldier a coward, Patton assaults him and threatens
to kill him, then concludes the interaction by insisting that the soldier return to
the frontline. When Eisenhower learns of the incident, he relieves Patton of his
command and orders him to offer apologies to the wronged soldier, to all occu-
pants of the field hospital, and to his command, one unit at a time. Eisenhower
also sidelines Patton during the D-­Day landings (6 June 1944), placing him in
command of the phantom First  U.S. Army Group in southeast ­England as a
PAT T O N 245

decoy, which works; German Col. Gen. Alfred Jodl (Richard Münch) posits that
Patton ­w ill lead the charge through Eu­rope. Afraid he ­w ill miss out on the rest of
the war, Patton pleads with his former subordinate, Omar Bradley, for a leader-
ship role, and he is put in charge of the Third Army. Patton excels at his post and
rapidly advances through France, but his tanks are halted when they run out of
fuel, which is mostly consigned to Montgomery’s Operation Market Garden (17–25
September 1944), much to Patton’s disgust. L ­ ater, during the B­ attle of the Bulge
(16 December 1944–25 January 1945), Patton’s forces relieve the besieged town of
Bastogne and then punch through the Siegfried Line and into Germany. In an off-­
the-­record short speech at a war-­drive event in Knutsford, ­England (25 April 1944),
Patton said “it is the evident destiny of the British and Americans (and, of course,
the Rus­sians) to rule the world.” Media coverage omits the reference to Rus­sia, so
Patton’s remarks are viewed as an insult to the Soviet Union. ­After Germany capit-
ulates (5 May 1945), Patton, through an interpreter, insults a Rus­sian general to
his face at a postwar dinner. The Rus­sian amuses Patton by insulting him in kind,
and the two officers proceed to have a drink together. L ­ ater, Patton makes the
­mistake of comparing the Nazi Party to American po­liti­cal parties. Patton’s com-
ments lead to his second loss of command. Patton is then seen away from the war,
talking his dog, Willie. In voice-­over, Patton describes how a returning hero of
ancient Rome was honored with a “triumph,” a victory parade in which “a slave
stood b
­ ehind the conqueror, holding a golden crown, and whispering in his ear a
warning: that all glory is fleeting.”

Reception
Patton had an East Coast premiere in New York City on 4 February 1970 and a
West Coast premiere two weeks ­later. During its domestic theatrical run the movie
made $61.75 million ($389 million in 2017 dollars). Patton earned an additional
$28.1 million in video rentals ­later on—­a ­grand total of almost $90 million against
an estimated production cost of $12 million (i.e., a $78 million profit, minus pro-
motion and advertising expenses). Patton received 10 Oscar nominations and won
7 Oscars at the 43rd Acad­emy Awards (April 1971), including Best Picture and Best
Original Screenplay. George C. Scott won the Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of
General Patton, but declined to accept the award on the grounds that acting should
not be treated as a competitive enterprise. Reviews ­were overwhelmingly positive,
with many critics citing George C. Scott’s per­for­mance as one of the greatest ever
committed to celluloid.

Reel History Versus Real History


In his book, History by Hollywood: The Use and Abuse of the American Past, Robert
Brent Toplin includes a chapter on Patton entitled “Patton: Deliberately Planned as a
Rorschach Test” (1996, pp. 155–175). Evidently unaware of Francis Ford Coppola’s
pragmatic reasons for writing an ambiguous script, Toplin argues that, given
its time of release—at the height of the Vietnam War in 1970—­Patton had to be
carefully calibrated so as to pres­ent a balanced depiction of George S. Patton; at a
246 PAT T O N

time when anti-­war sentiment was raging in the United States, an epic biopic about
a gung-ho WWII general had to be constructed in ambiguous terms in order to
appeal to the widest pos­si­ble demographic. Hence, Patton is portrayed as a very
capable military commander, pleasing Vietnam-­era hawks, but also as an egomani-
acal crackpot, confirming the biases of doves who abhorred war-­mongering. In the
end Toplin judges Patton as historically quite accurate and a “balanced” portrait.
Patton is not, however, the “balanced” cinematic portrait that Toplin contends that
it is. It contains contrived events and false characterizations designed to skew
viewer identification t­ oward George Patton. For example, George C. Scott’s Patton
speaks in a raspy growl whereas the real Patton had a high-­pitched, squeaky voice
that did not exude Scott’s machismo. The movie also misrepresents the relation-
ship between Patton and Gen. Omar Bradley. Depicted as close friends in the film
they w ­ ere, in real­ity, distant; Bradley found Patton’s personality grating and offen-
sive. The movie also suggests that Patton and Gen. Dwight Eisenhower ­were dis-
tant, whereas they had been close friends for de­cades. Oddly, Eisenhower is barely
represented in the movie. The film depicts a sustained a rivalry between Patton and
Field Marshall Montgomery. In real­ity, the rivalry was one-­sided; Montgomery
was less concerned about his reputation relative to Patton than Patton was to his.
All of t­hese touches tend to humanize Patton and make him more sympathetic.
Patton was an avowed anti-­Semite—an unsavory aspect of his character that the
movie chooses to overlook. The film portrays George Patton as a largely solitary
figure, barely mentioning his wife and ­family and completely omitting the fact that
Patton had a long-­term extramarital affair with his niece, Jean Gordon. The film
also omits the fact that Patton set up a disastrous secret raid on a Nazi prison camp
in Hammelburg, Germany, in a failed attempt to liberate his son-­in-­law, John K.
­Waters. The film excludes this incident to protect the myth of Patton as a mili-
tary genius. Another key omission concerns the infamous slapping incident. The
movie depicts just one slapping incident, but in point of fact, t­ here w ­ ere two sepa-
rate incidents, and Patton bragged about them to Bradley, showing a pattern of
disrespect for subordinates. In his book, American Films of the 70s: Conflicting
Visions, film historian Peter Lev notes that Patton consistently enlists viewer iden-
tification with the film’s protagonist: “General Patton is the focus of identification
­because he is the only character available for audience sympathy. We experience
what he experiences; we share his hopes and dreams [­because] we r­ eally have no
alternatives for emotional investment” (Lev, 2000, p. 115). For corroboration, Lev
reports the reaction of WWII veteran and war scholar Paul Fussell, who also noted
the film’s tendency to manipulate viewer identification. Fussell says that he would
have preferred “a more complex” view of Patton “as a dangerously out-­of-­control
individual, instead of the eccentric but brilliant leader of myth.” Fussell adds that
“­there are other real moments that the film w ­ ouldn’t think of including, such as
the sotto voce remark of one disgruntled ju­nior officer to another ­after being forced
to listen to a vainglorious Patton harangue: ‘What an a—hole!’ That would be an
in­ter­est­ing historic moment. I know it took place,” says Fussell, “­because I was the
one who said it” (quoted by Lev, 2000, p. 115).
P I A N I S T, T H E 247

P I A N I S T, T H E ( 2 0 0 2 )

Synopsis
The Pianist, a co-­production between France, the United Kingdom, Germany, and
Poland, is a war survival drama. Scripted by Ronald Harwood, co-­produced and
directed by Roman Polanski, and starring Adrien Brody, the film is based on the
World War II memoirs of Polish Jewish pianist-­composer Władysław Szpilman,
who managed to survive the Warsaw Ghetto.

Background
Władysław Szpilman (1911–2000), a Polish pianist and classical composer of Jew-
ish descent, was a popu­lar performer in concert and on Polish radio before and
­after World War II. He miraculously survived the Warsaw Ghetto, the Ghetto Upris-
ing, and final destruction of the Ghetto (19 April–16 May 1943). A ­ fter the war,
Szpilman resumed his c­ areer on Polish radio and wrote a memoir about his war
years that was published ­under the title Śmierć Miasta [Death of a City] (1946), but
it was suppressed by the Stalinist Polish authorities. With de-­Stalinization in the
mid-1950s the book was republished and became known to a wider readership.
De­cades ­later, Szpilman’s son, Andrzej, again republished his ­father’s memoir, first
in German as Das wunderbare Überleben [The Miraculous Survival] and then in

Adrian Brody as Władysław Szpilman, a Polish-­Jewish pianist-­composer and Holocaust


survivor, in Roman Polanski’s The Pianist (2002). (Focus Features/Photofest)
248 P I A N I S T, T H E

En­glish as The Pianist. Translations into 30 other languages soon followed. When
director Roman Polanski, also of Polish Jewish extraction, read Szpilman’s book,
he saw deep affinities to his own story. ­After his parents ­were sent to concentration
camps (his f­ather survived Mauthausen, but his m ­ other did not survive Aus-
chwitz), Polanski escaped from the Kraków Ghetto and lasted out the war by hiding
out in the countryside. He had always wanted to make his own film about the Holo-
caust; Szpilman’s book presented the perfect source material. ­A fter putting
together $35 million in financing from a dozen Eu­ro­pean production companies,
Polanski hired playwright/screenwriter Ronald Harwood (Cry, The Beloved Country)
to adapt Szpilman’s memoir to the screen. Polanski wanted Joseph Fiennes for the
lead role, but Fiennes was unavailable. Over 1,400 actors auditioned for the role of
Szpilman at a casting call in London but none proved suitable. In the end, Polanski
cast Adrien Brody (The Thin Red Line) for the part. To prepare for the six-­month
shoot, Brody spent six weeks dieting (and lost 35 pounds), growing a beard, work-
ing on a dialect, and learning to play the piano, of which he already had a basic
knowledge. Władysław Szpilman met with Polanski socially a few times but did not
make any specific suggestions as to how the movie should be filmed. Sadly, Szpil-
man did not get to see the film of his life; he died in Warsaw on 6 July 2000 at the
age of 88, while the movie was still in its pre-­production phase.

Production
Principal photography on The Pianist began on 9 February 2001 in Babelsberg Stu-
dio in Potsdam, Germany. The film’s first scenes ­were shot at a complex of multi-
story Soviet Army barracks buildings. Already slated for de­mo­li­tion, the barracks
­were selectively wrecked by Polanski’s production designer, Allan Starski, to sim-
ulate the ruins of Warsaw. The film crew then moved to a villa in Potsdam, which
served as the h
­ ouse where Szpilman meets Hosenfeld. On 2 March 2001, filming
relocated to an abandoned Soviet military hospital in Beelitz, Germany, near Pots-
dam, where scenes featuring German soldiers destroying a Warsaw hospital ­were
shot. Between 15 and 26 March, filming took place on a backlot of Babelsberg Stu-
dios, where Starski skillfully re-­created streets in the Warsaw Ghetto as they
would have looked during World War II. On 29 March 2001, the production moved
to Warsaw for the final three months of filming. The rundown district of Praga,
on the east side of the Vistula River, was the location chosen ­because of its many
pre-­W WII buildings (the rest of Warsaw, completely destroyed during the war, had
been rebuilt). Polanski’s art department added WWII-­era signs and posters. The
Umschlagplatz scene where Szpilman, his f­ amily, and hundreds of other Jews wait
to be deported to the death camps was filmed at the War Studies University of
Warsaw. Principal photography ended in July 2001, followed by months of post-­
production in Paris.

Plot Summary
In September 1939, Władysław Szpilman (Adrien Brody), a Polish Jewish pianist,
is playing a Chopin piece live on the radio in Warsaw when the station is bombed
by the Luftwaffe during Hitler’s invasion of Poland. At home with his f­amily,
P I A N I S T, T H E 249

Szpilman is happy to learn that Britain and France have declared war on Ger-
many, but hope is short-­lived; the Allies do not intervene as promised. Hostilities
last only 35 days before Poland is crushed by the Nazi invasion from the west and
Soviet invasion from the east. The conquering Nazis prohibit Jews from working
or owning businesses and also require them to wear blue Star of David arm-
bands. By November 1940, Szpilman and his ­family are evicted from their home
and forced into the teeming Warsaw Ghetto, where starvation and Nazi brutality
rule—­during a round-up, the Szpilmans watch helplessly as the SS kills a ­family in
a ­house across from them. In August 1942, Szpilman and his ­family are awaiting
transport to Treblinka extermination camp at the Umschlagplatz as part of Oper-
ation Reinhard (the secret Nazi plan to exterminate all Polish Jews) when a friend
in the Jewish Ghetto Police recognizes Władysław and separates him from his
­family. Szpilman toils as a slave laborer but also helps the Jewish re­sis­tance by
smuggling weapons into the ghetto. He eventually manages to escape and goes
into hiding with help from non-­Jewish friends Janina Bogucki (Ruth Platt) and
her husband, Andrzej (Ronan Vibert). In April  1943, Szpilman watches the
Warsaw Ghetto Uprising unfold in the streets below his win­dow. A neighbor finds
Szpilman, forcing him to escape to a new secret hideaway. In August 1944, during
the Warsaw Uprising, the Armia Krajowa (AK) attacks a German building across
the street from Szpilman’s hideout. Gunfire from tanks forces him to flee once
again. The Uprising fails, Warsaw is utterly destroyed, and Szpilman is left alone
to search for food and shelter in the ruins. He treks through the streets and man-
ages to locate a home containing an unopened can of cucumbers. As he attempts to
open the can, Wehrmacht officer Wilm Hosenfeld (Thomas Kretschmann) finds
him and discovers that Szpilman is a pianist. He requests that Szpilman play
and, despite extreme hunger and fatigue, the pianist obliges with Chopin’s “Bal-
lade in G Minor.” Hosenfeld allows Szpilman to hide in the attic of the empty
­house and brings him food on a regular basis. In January 1945, the Germans are
in retreat from the Red Army. Hosenfeld meets Szpilman one last time, giving him
a greatcoat to keep warm. In the spring of 1945, former prisoners of a Nazi concen-
tration camp pass a Soviet prisoner of war (POW) camp holding captured German
soldiers. Hosenfeld, one of the prisoners, hears a fellow inmate complain about
his past violin ­career. The violinist confirms knowing Szpilman, and Hosenfeld
asks that the pianist aid him in his release. By the time Szpilman is brought to the
site, it is deserted. L
­ ater, Szpilman works for Polish Radio and performs Chopin’s
“Grande Polonaise brillante,” Op. 22, to a large, appreciative audience. An epi-
logue says that Szpilman lived to 88 and Hosenfeld perished while in a Soviet
prison in 1952.

Reception
The Pianist premiered at the 55th Cannes Film Festival on 24 May 2002, where it
won the Palme D’Or. The movie’s American premiere was in Los Angeles on 4
December 2002. It went into wide release in the United States on 28 March 2003.
The film did well commercially, grossing $121.1 million at the box office—­a result
bolstered by a good showing at the 2003 Acad­emy Awards, where The Pianist
250 P L AT O O N

garnered seven nominations and three of the most prestigious Oscars: Best Director
(Polanski), Best Actor (Brody), and Best Adapted Screenplay (Harwood). Among a
slew of other awards, The Pianist won two BAFTAs, eight César Awards, and ten Pol-
ish Film Awards. Reviews ­were almost unanimously favorable. A. O. Scott wrote,
“Perhaps ­because of his own experiences, Mr.  Polanski approaches this material
with a calm, fierce authority. This is certainly the best work Mr. Polanski has done
in many years . . . ​and it is also one of the very few nondocumentary movies about
Jewish life and death u­ nder the Nazis that can be called definitive” (Scott, 2002).

Reel History Versus Real History


Writing his memoir right ­after the war, Władysław Szpilman still had detailed recall
as to the harrowing events of the previous six years. Assuming that Szpilman is
telling the truth about his experiences—­and ­there is no reason to doubt him—­
The Pianist in book form is a highly accurate first-­person glimpse of life in Warsaw
­under the Nazi occupation. Closely following the narrative contours of Szpilman’s
book, excerpting much of its dialogue, and replicating its detached tone, the movie
version of The Pianist is, likewise, an unusually faithful historical repre­sen­ta­tion.
Though Polanski’s scripting contribution went uncredited, he worked closely with
screenwriter Ron Harwood in adapting Szpilman’s book and brought his own
memories to bear, which coincided with Szpilman’s in many ways. Polanski and
Harwood also watched documentary footage from Warsaw together to grasp the
look and feel of life in Warsaw during the war. Allan Starski’s superb production
design ensured a high degree of visual verisimilitude.

P L AT O O N ( 1 9 8 6 )

Synopsis
Platoon is an American anti-­war film written and directed by Vietnam War combat
veteran Oliver Stone, starring Willem Dafoe and Tom Berenger as two sergeants—­
one decent and humane, the other a hateful nihilist—­v ying for the hearts and
minds of a U.S. Army platoon during the Vietnam War. Platoon is the first film of
a trilogy of Vietnam War films directed by Stone, followed by Born on the Fourth of
July (1989) and Heaven & Earth (1993).

Background
A young man from privileged circumstances, Oliver Stone could have avoided the
Vietnam-­era draft. Instead he volunteered for military ser­v ice as a way to expe-
rience something profound. As Stone ­later put it, “I could think of no greater real­
ity than war” (A Tour of the Inferno: Revisiting Platoon, 2001). A
­ fter finishing a tour
of duty in Vietnam in April 1968, Stone returned home to New York City and
wrote “Break” (1969), an allegorical film script that limned his existential and po­liti­
cal transformation. A big fan of The Doors, Stone sent the script to Jim Morrison
in hopes he would play the lead but Morrison never responded. Though he could
not get “Break” produced, Stone pursued a c­ areer in film anyway. He attended NYU
P L AT O O N 251

film school, made a short 16-mm film about the war (Last Year in Vietnam, 1971),
and wrote a number of other screenplays, among them Seizure (1974; his first one
made into a film) and “The Platoon,” a Vietnam War film script that recycled char-
acters and structure from “Break.” Sidney Lumet wanted to direct it in 1976, but
producer Martin Bregman was not able to secure studio backing; the script was
deemed too grim and realistic a vision of the Vietnam War. Stone next wrote Alan
Parker’s Midnight Express (1978). The film was a hit, but the studios continued to
pass on “The Platoon.” A frustrated Stone soldiered on, writing the scripts for The
Hand (1981, a low-­budget horror film that he also directed), John Milius’s Conan
the Barbarian (1982), Brian De Palma’s gangster epic Scarface (1983), Michael Cimi-
no’s Year of the Dragon (1985), and Hal Ashby’s 8 Million Ways to Die (1986). In
1984 Dino De Laurentiis secured financing for “The Platoon.” Pre-­production work
began but soon ground to a halt when De Laurentiis could not find a distributor.
“The Platoon” and another Oliver Stone script for what would become Salvador ­were
then passed onto John Daly, the head of Hemdale, a British production com­pany.
Daly read both scripts, pronounced them “­great stuff,” and offered Stone the choice
as to which he preferred to film first. Superstitious that something would again go
wrong with “The Platoon,” Stone opted to shoot Salvador first. A ­ fter finishing Sal-
vador at the end of 1985, Stone began pre-­production on Platoon, as it was now
called. He assembled a stellar cast: Martin Sheen’s son, Charlie Sheen, in the lead
role as Pfc. Chris Taylor; Tom Berenger as the Ahab-­like Sgt. Barnes; Willem Dafoe
as Barnes’ nemesis, Sgt. Gordon Elias (hired over Denzel Washington); and John C.
McGinley, Forest Whitaker, and Johnny Depp. James Woods, who had starred in
Salvador, was also offered a part in Platoon but, sated on jungle shoots, turned it
down. Oliver Stone realized that his actors would need to be subjected to extreme
discomfort if they ­were ­going to look and behave like U.S. soldiers in Vietnam, so he
hired Vietnam veteran Dale Dye (founder of Warriors, Inc., a com­pany that provides
military expertise to Hollywood war films). As Platoon’s technical advisor, Dye’s
mandate was to put the principal cast members through a rigorous, immersive
14-­day military training regimen that included forced marches in full combat gear
and schooled them in weapons, ordnance, tactics, ambushes, first aid, medevac,
radio use, ­etc. He also limited food and w­ ater intake and had his tired actors take
turns keeping a two-­hour watch at night, as real soldiers would have done in Viet-
nam. The object was “to mess with [the actors’] heads so we could get that dog-­tired,
­don’t give a damn attitude, the anger, and the irritation . . . ​the casual approach to
death” (Saporito, 2015).

Production
Just days before the Platoon shoot was scheduled to start in the Philippines, pro-
duction was nearly canceled b ­ ecause of po­liti­cal unrest. A “­People’s Revolution”
had suddenly erupted, which para­lyzed the nation and rendered filmmaking out
of the question. Luckily, Ferdinand Marcos, the Philippines’ unutterably corrupt
president, was persuaded to flee the country for asylum in Hawaii on 25 Febru-
ary 1986. Filming began on 27 February as scheduled and lasted nine weeks (54
shooting days). The studio made an agreement with the Philippine army, allowing
252 P L AT O O N

crew members to use Philippine military equipment and cast local Viet­nam­ese ref-
ugees. Scenes ­were shot in Mount Makiling (for the forest scenes), Cavite (for the
river and village scenes), and Villamor Air Base near Manila. Stone put himself in
the picture, making a cameo as a battalion commander in the last b ­ attle scene,
which was based on the New Year’s Day B ­ attle of 1968. Stone had served during
the real b
­ attle while he was with the 25th Infantry Division in Vietnam.

Plot Summary
In 1967, U.S. Army volunteer Chris Taylor (Charlie Sheen) arrives in Vietnam and
is posted with a U.S. Army unit near the border of Cambodia. The troops are com-
manded by an inept Lt. Wolfe (Mark Moses), but the platoon members take their
cues from their better-­qualified subordinates: the battle-­worn and brash Sgt. Rob-
ert “Bob” Barnes (Tom Berenger) and the more temperate and humane Sgt. Elias
(Willem Dafoe). Taylor’s first assignment is to join Barnes, Elias, and veteran sol-
diers on a surprise attack on a North Viet­nam­ese Army (NVA) unit. A ­ fter Gardner
(Bob Orwig), another new recruit, falls asleep on night watch, NVA soldiers are
able to sneak up on the slumbering U.S. unit in advance of a firefight. Gardner
perishes in the exchange of bullets, and Taylor sustains injuries. A­ fter a brief trip
to the field hospital, Taylor returns and gets close with Sgt. Elias and his relaxed

Chris (Charlie Sheen, left) and Rhah (Francesco Quinn) assist Crawford (Chris
­Pedersen), a wounded comrade, in Oliver Stone’s Vietnam War epic, Platoon (1986).
(Orion Pictures Corporation/Photofest)
P L AT O O N 253

crew. Meanwhile, three soldiers die during a patrol, inciting anger among the troops
as they uncover stored e­ nemy supplies in a neighboring village Barnes uses an inter-
preter to question the village chief (Bernardo Manalili) about his ­peoples’ involve-
ment with the NVA and then shoots the chief’s wife when she speaks out of turn.
Elias enters the scene and comes to blows with Barnes in response to the senseless
killing. Wolfe ends the fight and ­orders the soldiers to trash the supplies and tear
down the village. During the destruction, Taylor saves two female villa­gers from
being sexually assaulted by two of Barnes’ men. When the unit arrives back at camp,
Capt. Harris (Dale Dye) states that he ­will investigate the claims of an illegal killing
and w ­ ill initiate a court-­martial if he finds the claims to be true. Barns worries that
if he is found out, Elias might testify against him. The next patrol endures heavy
gunfire, some of which is friendly fire mistakenly ordered by Lt. Wolfe. While Elias,
Taylor, and a few other soldiers enter the jungle to hunt down ­enemy combatants,
Barnes sends his unit to retreat and, finding Elias alone, shoots him. He tells the
other men that Elias was killed by ­enemy soldiers. While the troops are airlifted
away via he­li­cop­ter, they see a gravely injured Elias stumble out from the trees, pur-
sued by NVA soldiers, who shoot him down. Seeing Barnes’ facial expression as they
watch the scene unfold below, Taylor realizes what Barnes has done. Once at base
camp, Taylor shares his theory with the other soldiers and encourages them to retali-
ate. Barnes, drunk, overhears Taylor and provokes an attack. Barnes cuts Taylor with
a knife before stumbling away. The soldiers are ordered back to the frontline, and
during the first night, the NVA launch a large-­scale attack against the Americans.
Wolfe dies in the attack, along with most of Barnes’ crew. Amidst the madness, Tay-
lor finds Barnes wounded and ranting. Barnes moves to kill Taylor, but the two are
knocked out by an aerial bombing. Taylor awakens the next day, grabs a gun, locates
Barnes, and then kills him. A he­li­cop­ter evacuates Taylor and a fellow soldier, who
has wounded himself in order to secure a leave of absence. As Samuel Barber’s deeply
mournful “Adagio for Strings” plays on the soundtrack (also used elsewhere in the
film), Taylor looks down on a huge crater full of corpses. In some ­future time he
ruminates (in voice-­over), “I think now, looking back, we did not fight the ­enemy,
we fought ourselves, and the ­enemy . . . ​was in us. The war is over for me now, but it
­will always be t­here, for the rest of my days, as I’m sure Elias w ­ ill be, fighting with
Barnes for what Rhah called possession of my soul. ­There are times since I’ve felt like
the child born of ­those two ­fathers. But be that as it may, ­those of us who did make
it have an obligation to build again, to teach to ­others what we know, and to try with
what’s left of our lives to find a goodness, and meaning, to this life.”

Reception
Platoon had its American premiere on 19 December 1986 in New York and Los
Angeles and expanded to its widest release (1,564 theaters) over the next five weeks.
Platoon was also screened at the 37th Berlin International Film Festival, where Oli-
ver Stone won the Silver Bear for Best Director. The movie proved to be a major
commercial success. Foreign grosses are unknown, but domestic receipts at the
end of its 27-­week theatrical run totaled $133.8 million—­more than 20 times its
production bud­get. Ticket sales ­were sharply boosted by eight Oscar nominations
254 P L AT O O N

in February 1987 and four wins in March: Best Picture (Arnold Kopelson); Best
Director (Oliver Stone); Best Editing (Claire Simpson); and Best Sound (John
Wilkinson, Richard Rogers, Simon Kaye, and Charles Grenzbach). Platoon was also
honored with two BAFTAs, three Golden Globes, and the DGA Award for Out-
standing Directing. The critical response was, likewise, overwhelmingly positive.
Roger Ebert gave it the maximum four stars and praised Stone for making a war
movie devoid of “false heroics,” “standard heroes,” or a “carefully mapped plot,”
but one that dares to show an American atrocity perpetrated against Viet­nam­ese
civilians. Ebert: “­After seeing Platoon, I fell to wondering [how] Stone was able to
make such an effective movie without . . . ​making it [merely] exhilarating. ­Here’s
how I think he did it. He abandoned the choreography that is standard in almost
all war movies. He abandoned any attempt to make it clear where the vari­ous forces
­were in relation to each other, so that we never know where ‘our’ side stands and
where ‘they’ are” (Ebert, 1986). In his review, Vincent Canby described Platoon as
a “singular achievement . . . ​possibly the best work of any kind about the Vietnam
War since Michael Herr’s vigorous and hallucinatory book Dispatches” (Canby,
1986).

Reel History Versus Real History


As one of only a handful of bona fide Vietnam veterans involved in the making of
major motion pictures about the Vietnam War—­Gus Hasford, Patrick Sheane Dun-
can, and James Carabatsos are ­others—­Oliver Stone was able to bring a high
degree of authenticity to Platoon. Viewers may won­der if ­there ­really was as much
internecine conflict and drug use among American soldiers in Vietnam. Certainly,
in some platoons, t­ here w ­ ere—­though heavy drug use was more common in rear
echelon areas. Viewers should not won­der, though, about anti-­civilian atrocities
committed by U.S. troops, which became notorious a­ fter the My Lai Massacre (16
March 1968) was exposed to the nation by New York Times reporter Seymour Hersh
in October  1969. More recently, American war crimes in Vietnam have been
exhaustively documented by Nick Turse in his controversial book, Kill Anything
That Moves: The Real American War in Vietnam (2013). What­ever the a­ ctual scope of
­these atrocities, they did happen, as they do in all wars. Regarding the film’s histori-
cal veracity, TV journalist Ted Koppel (Nightline) assembled a group of six Vietnam
combat veterans in Chicago for a private screening of Platoon on 3 January 1987, just
­after the film was released, and all of them readily confirmed the film’s truthfulness.
Frank Kauzlarich, who served in 1968–1969 as a he­li­cop­ter crew chief, told Koppel,
“The character portrayals w ­ ere outstanding; they d
­ idn’t ‘Hollywood it up.’ They had
the details right about the leeches—­and the dust everywhere when (the college
kid) arrived in Vietnam in the very first scene. I saw the same dust and the body
bags when I first got ­there, and I thought to myself, ‘What the hell am I getting
into?’ The characters w­ ere all right on: the good, the bad, and the ugly, you might
say. Also it showed the t­ hings you had to do—­the ­people you had to leave b ­ ehind.”
Another veteran, Terry Tidd, who served in 1966 with the Marine I Corps near Da
Nang, said “I want to get my ma and dad to see this movie. I got a 13-­year-­old boy
I might want to take. It may be too heavy, but he’s asked me a lot about Vietnam,
PORK CHOP HILL 255

and I prob­ably should take him to see this. If anyone wants to know what the war
is like, this would be a good one for them.” A third veteran, Bill Burton, a Marine
who fought in 1968–1969, said, “It was almost real. T­ here w
­ ere some t­ hings I saw
in the film that I did.” Asked what they ­were he said, “No, I’d rather not say. It
affects me to this day” (Siskel, 1987).

PORK CHOP HILL (1959)

Synopsis
Pork Chop Hill is an American war film written by James R. Webb; produced by Sy
Bartlett; directed by Lewis Milestone; and starring Gregory Peck, Rip Torn, and
George Peppard. Based on the book by U.S. military historian Brigadier Gen-
eral S.L.A. Marshall, the film depicts the first ­Battle of Pork Chop Hill between the
U.S. Army’s 7th  Infantry Division and Chinese and North Korean forces in
April 1953 in the final days of the Korean War.

Background
The so-­called B ­ attle of Pork Chop Hill actually comprises two related Korean War
­battles fought during the spring and summer of 1953 in the midst of cease-­fire
negotiations at Panmunjom that would end the war on 27 July—­and make ­these
costly engagements militarily pointless. Military analyst and historian, U.S. Army
Brigadier General S.L.A. “Slam” Marshall depicted the first b ­ attle (16–18 April 1953)
in his 1956 bestseller, Pork Chop Hill: The American Fighting Man in Action K ­ orea,
Spring 1953. Screenwriter James Webb brought Marshall’s book to the attention of
Gregory Peck, who agreed to turn it into an anti-­war film that would show war
realistically, that is, in all its nerve-­w racking carnage, waste, and futility. Peck pur-
chased the screen rights from S.L.A. Marshall for a pittance: a lopsided deal that
Marshall rued for the rest of his life. Peck then hired Lewis Milestone (All Quiet on
the Western Front) to direct the picture for Melville Productions, Peck’s new pro-
duction com­pany, formed with his friend, screenwriter Sy Bartlett (Twelve ­O’Clock
High).

Production
A casting call yielded some 640 applicants for about 40 screen roles. Many of the
young actors who won parts in the film went on to have distinguished film and/or
TV ­careers (e.g., Rip Torn, Woody Strode, Harry Guardino, George Peppard, Nor-
man Fell, Robert Blake, Martin Landau, James Edwards, Gavin McLeod, Harry
Dean Stanton, Bert Remsen, and Clarence Williams III). ­Under the supervision of
production designer Nicolai Remisoff and set decorator Edward G. Boyle, crews
turned a 300-­foot outcropping at Albertson Ranch, Thousand Oaks, California (10
miles north of Malibu), into a realistic facsimile of Pork Chop Hill, with trenches,
bunkers, and concertina wire. Track was laid down to accommodate a rolling cam-
era platform for tracking and following shots by cinematographer Sam Leavitt—
an arrangement similar to the one that Lewis Milestone had deployed in All Quiet
256 PORK CHOP HILL

on the Western Front 28 years earlier. The filmmakers also benefited from the sup-
port of the Pentagon, which lent them the ser­v ices of Joseph Clemons, Jr. himself
as technical advisor (Fishgall, 2002, pp. 205–208). Budget-­conscious Peck had
insisted that the picture come in at $1.3 million. Casting unknowns and shooting
in black and white near Los Angeles helped keep costs down, but what was sup-
posed to be a 40-­day shoot (26 May–18 July 1958) went 15 days over schedule. The
film wrapped in early August, $450,000 over bud­get. Ironically, the a­ ctual ­battle
lasted just two days and two nights. In post-­production, Peck, Sy Bartlett, and James
Webb took over the final editing and cut the film by nearly 20 minutes to make it
tauter. An unhappy Lewis Milestone attributed the last-­minute excisions to Gregory
Peck’s wife, Veronique, who felt that her husband made his first entrance too late
into the picture, an unconfirmed but plausible assertion.

Plot Summary
In a surprise attack on the night of 16 April 1953, near the end of the Korean War,
a Chinese battalion overruns U.S. defensive positions on Pork Chop Hill: an exposed
outpost that proj­ects into Chinese lines. The Chinese quickly capture most of the
hill except for a few isolated bunkers. King Com­pany, 31st Infantry Regiment, com-
manded by Lt. Joseph Clemons, Jr. (Gregory Peck), is tasked with recapturing the
hill, with two platoons of Love Com­pany mounting a supporting attack on the right
flank. Subjected to demoralizing propaganda via loudspeaker (spoken by Viraj
Amonsin) and withering artillery, mortar, and automatic weapons fire, both units
take extremely heavy casualties. Love Com­pany’s advance is stymied, but King
Com­pany ultimately manages to capture most of the bunkers and trenches on
the hill’s summit. Of the 197 men who began the assault on Pork Chop Hill, only
35 men from King Com­pany and 12 men from the two platoons of Love Com­pany
make it up the hill unscathed. ­After further casualties Lt. Clemons has only 25 men
left to hold the hill against impending Chinese counterattacks. George Com­pany
arrives to help but is mistakenly ordered down off the hill. All of Clemons’ men
are exhausted, low on ammo, and ­under constant and heavy ­enemy fire. Clem-
ons requests reinforcements to stave off annihilation but none are forthcoming.
Unknown to him, the merits of holding Pork Chop Hill are being debated at e­ very
command level, from battalion, to Eighth Army headquarters, all the way up to the
peace talks ­table at Panmunjom. Fi­nally realizing that the Chinese had attacked
Pork Chop Hill to test American resolve (not for its strategic value), the American
negotiators at Panmunjom authorize 7th  Infantry Division commanding officer,
Major General Arthur Trudeau (Ken Lynch), to send in reinforcements for Clemons
and his beleaguered men, who descend the hill as fresh troops climb it.

Reception
Released on 29 May 1959 (just before the Memorial Day weekend), Pork Chop Hill
received no Oscar nominations but earned rave reviews for its gritty realism. For
example, Bosley Crowther praised the filmmakers’ willingness to depict the “resent-
ments and misgivings” of the American troops: “The readiness to incorporate
­these resentments in the account and demonstrate the application of this new
PORK CHOP HILL 257

brainwash technique [i.e., an ­enemy battlefield loudspeaker broadcasting psycho-


logical abuse to attacking U.S. infantrymen] are worthy of highest commenda-
tion in James  R. Webb’s bone-­bare script, which has been taken from S.L.A.
Marshall’s factual account of the fighting for Pork Chop Hill. And the audacity of
Sy Bartlett to produce such a grim and rugged film, which tacitly points the obso-
leteness of ground warfare, merits applause” (Crowther, 1959). Good notices not-
withstanding, Pork Chop Hill did lackluster business at the box office. A relentlessly
grim picture about a bloody b ­ attle at the end of an unpop­u­lar war, the movie
generated $1.7 million in ticket sales—­just enough to recuperate its production
costs, despite an 11-­city pre-­release promotional tour by Gregory Peck.

Reel History Versus Real History


In general terms Pork Chop Hill is a fairly accurate depiction of the ­actual ­battle,
albeit somewhat simplified for narrative coherence. As depicted in the movie, Amer-
ican G.I. morale at the time of the B ­ attle of Pork Chop Hill was low. The Chinese
did use loudspeakers as a means of psychological warfare but not quite as depicted
in the film; the Chinese often welcomed arriving units by name via their loudspeak-
ers but did not broadcast a greeting to King Com­pany as it moved up the hill, as the
film shows. At any rate, ongoing peace talks and impending prisoner exchanges
made it clear that the war would soon be over; no one was anxious to be the last
combatant to die in an unpop­u­lar conflict about to end in stalemate. Gregory Peck’s
rendition of Lt. Joseph Clemons is, however, more problematic. Lt. Clemons was
24 in 1953, whereas Peck was 42 in 1958 when he played Clemons—­far too old to
be playing a ju­nior officer just two years out of West Point. In his book, S.L.A.
Marshall characterized Lt. Clemons as still inexperienced and prone to confusion,
a characterization that Lewis Milestone wanted to capture on film but Milestone
was overridden by Gregory Peck. In keeping with his well-­established star persona
as an always righ­teous and invincible hero, Peck played Clemons as unshakably
stalwart and decisive (Fishgall, 2002, p. 207). Despite the obvious age discrep-
ancy and an idealized portrayal, the real Joe Clemons pronounced Pork Chop Hill
“so realistic that it seems the b
­ attle itself is being refought before your very eyes”
(Payne, 1959).
R
RAN (1985)

Synopsis
Ran is a Japanese-­French war film/period tragedy directed, edited, and co-­w ritten
by Akira Kurosawa, adapted from Shakespeare’s tragedy, King Lear and the legends
surrounding daimyō Mōri Motonari. The film stars Tatsuya Nakadai as Hidetora
Ichimonji, an aging Sengoku-­era warlord who abdicates for his three sons—­w ith
disastrous results.

Background
Akira Kurosawa first conceived of the idea for the film that would become Ran
(Japa­nese for “chaos” or “discord”) in the early 1970s, when he read about Mōri
Motonari (1497–1571), a power­ful daimyō in the Chūgoku region of Japan who is
remembered as one of the greatest warlords of the Sengoku period (mid-
16th ­century). Though a brilliant diplomat and strategist, Motonari is best known
for an event that prob­ably never happened: the “lesson of the three arrows,” a par-
able that Motonari illustrated by giving each of his three sons an arrow to break.
He then gave them three arrows bundled together and pointed out that although
one may be easily broken, three bundled together are impossible to break. Moton-
ari actually had nine sons (two of whom died in childhood) but most prominent
of them ­were the three sons the parable concerns: Mōri Takamoto (1523–1563),
Kikkawa Motoharu (1530–1586), and Kobayakawa Takakage (1533–1597). For-
mulating a scenario that could generate real drama, Kurosawa ­imagined trou­ble
among the three ­brothers rather than unity and reasonableness. As he ­later told
an interviewer, “What might their story be like, I wondered, if the sons had not
been so good? It was only ­after I was well into writing the script about ­these imagi-
nary unfilial sons of the Mōri clan that the similarities to [Shakespeare’s 1606
tragedy, King] Lear occurred to me. Since the story is set in medieval Japan, the
protagonist’s ­children had to be men; to divide a realm among ­daughters would
have been unthinkable” (Grilli, 2008, p. 126). Kurosawa and two co-­w riters—­
Hideo Oguni and Masato Ide—­had a draft of a screenplay completed by 1975, but
Kurosawa would not be able to arrange financing for an expensive, large-­scale epic
set in medieval Japan for another seven years. In the meantime, he painted story­
boards of ­every shot in Ran and made Dersu Uzala (1975) and Kagemusha (1980),
the latter of which he described as a “dress rehearsal” for Ran. In 1982 Kurosawa
fi­nally secured funding for Ran from two sources: Japa­nese producer Masatoshi
Hara (Herald Ace Productions) and French producer Serge Silberman (Greenwich
RAN 259

Film Productions). ­After the box office success of Jean-­Jacques Beineix’s Diva (1981),
Silberman was able to put up most of the money needed to back Ran, which ended
up costing ¥2.4 billion (i.e., $12 million), the most expensive Japa­nese film pro-
duced up to that time. Kurosawa cast Tatsuya Nakadai (who played the dual lead
roles in Kagemusha) as Hidetora Ichimonji, an aging Sengoku-­era warlord based
on Mōri Motonari who decides to abdicate as ruler in ­favor of his three sons. Prior
to production, several hundred elaborate costumes had to be created by hand, an
arduous pro­cess that took two years to complete. Pre-­production also involved
extensive location scouting and set construction, for example, a ­castle destroyed
in the ­middle of the movie had to be specially built on the slopes of Mount Fuji,
only to be burned down.

Production
Akira Kurosawa was 75 years old when he directed Ran (June 1984–­February 1985)
and was nearly blind when the initial photography started. He required assistance
in order to frame his shots, and his assistants used hundreds of his story­board
paintings as templates to construct and film scenes. Almost the entire film is done
in long shot, with only a handful of close-­ups. An enormous undertaking, Ran used
some 1,400 extras, 1,400 suits of armor (designed by Kurosawa himself), and 200
­horses, some of them imported from the United States. Over his long c­ areer,
Kurosawa worked with the same crew of technicians and assistants. ­Toward the
end of the shoot, Kurosawa lost two of his old stalwarts. In January 1985, Fumio
Yamoguchi, the sound recordist on nearly all of Kurosawa’s films since 1949, and
Ryu Kuze, action coordinator on many of them, died within a few days of each
other. A month ­later (1 February 1985), Kurosawa’s wife of 39 years, Yôko Yagu-
chi, also died. Kurosawa halted filming for just one day to mourn before resuming
work on the picture.

Plot Summary
[Act I] Hidetora Ichimonji (Tatsuya Nakadai), a power­ful warlord near the end of
his life, decides to divide his kingdom among his three sons: Taro (Akira Terao),
Jiro (Jinpachi Nezu), and Saburo (Daisuke Ryu). The oldest son, Taro, is bequeathed
the sought-­after First C­ astle and is named commander of the Ichimonji clan. Jiro
and Saburo are given the Second and Third ­Castles, respectively. Hidetora retains
his title of ­Great Lord, and the two younger sons are expected to rally ­behind Taro.
Saburo calls his ­father a fool, stating that he ­can’t expect loyalty from sons who
grew up watching their ­father use the most cruel, heartless methods for power and
domination. Hidetora is threatened by his son, but his servant, Tango (Masayuki
Yui), defends Saburo. Hidetora responds by exiling both men. Nobuhiro Fujimaki
(Hitoshi Ueki), a visiting warlord, sees Saburo’s fervor and forthrightness and asks
him to wed his d ­ aughter. [Act II] A
­ fter Hidetora divides his remaining lands between
Jiro and Saburo, Taro’s wife, Lady Kaede (Mieko Harada), encourages Taro to gain
control of the entire clan. Emboldened, Taro tells Hidetora to give up his title of
­Great Lord. Hidetora, now betrayed by two sons, runs to Jiro’s ­castle only to dis-
cover that Jiro plans to use him in his own scheme for power and influence. Unsure
260 R A N

of where to go, Hidetora and his com­pany depart from Jiro’s ­castle. Tango finds
his ­father and informs Hidetora of Taro’s new decree: anyone who assists Hidetora
­w ill be sentenced to death. Hidetora flees to Saburo’s ­castle, which was left empty
when Saburo went into exile. [Act III] Hidetora and his samurais are attacked by
Taro’s and Jiro’s forces. In the ensuing ­battle, almost all of Hidetora’s men are killed
and the Third ­Castle is set on fire. Hidetora, alone and losing his mind, leaves the
­castle as it is consumed by flames. During the siege on the c­ astle, Taro is killed by
a bullet from Jiro’s general, Shuri Kurogane’s (Hisashi Igawa) gun. Meanwhile, Hide-
tora wanders the wilderness and is found by Tango, who tries to assist him. The pair
take shelter in a peasant’s home, but realize that the peasant is Tsurumaru (Mansai
Nomura), the ­brother of Lady Sué (Yoshiko Miyazaki), Jiro’s wife. Tsurumaru was a
victim of Hidetora’s regime: he was blinded and left for dead ­after Hidetora mur-
dered his f­ather and conquered their land. [Act IV] A ­ fter Taro’s death, Jiro takes on
the title of the G ­ reat Lord, moving into the First C
­ astle and commanding the Ichi-
monji clan. Jiro returns to the ­castle to find Lady Kaede, unbothered by Taro’s death,
waiting to blackmail Jiro into an affair. Lady Kaede uses her influence with Jiro to
call for Lady Sué’s death. Jiro o­ rders Kurogane to carry out the task, but he declines,
stating that Kaede ­w ill be the ruin of both Jiro and the clan. Kurogane runs to tell
Sué and Tsurumaru to leave. Meanwhile, two ronin are captured by Tango, who
coerces them to reveal plans for assassinating Hidetora. Tango leaves to share the
news with Saburo. Hidetora is overtaken by madness and runs off into a volcanic
plain while Kyoami (Pîtâ) runs a­ fter him. Saburo and Jiro meet on the battlefield
and agree on a truce, and Saburo becomes concerned by the report of his f­ather’s
onset of madness. While Saburo meets with Kyoami and takes 10 warriors along
to rescue Hidetora, Jiro takes advantage of the situation and sends gunners to
ambush his b ­ rother and f­ather. Jiro also attacks Saburo’s army, which falls back
into the woods as the soldiers go on the defensive. As the ­family is warring, a mes-
senger shares news that Ayabe, a rival lord, is headed t­owards the First ­Castle. At
the same time, Saburo locates Hidetora, and the f­ather experiences a reprieve
from his insanity and begins to heal his relationship with his son. However, in the
midst of the reconciliation, one of Jiro’s snipers kills Saburo. Hidetora dies out of
sadness. Fujimaki arrives with his troops to see Tango and Kyoami grieving. [Act V]
In the meantime, Tsurumaru and Sué get to the ruined c­ astle, but realize that
they forgot a flute at Tsurumaru’s home, one that Sué had gifted to Tsurumaru
at the time of his banishment. She goes back for the flute, but is discovered and
murdered by one of Jiro’s assassins. Si­mul­ta­neously, Ayabe’s army attacks the First
­Castle. When Kurogane hears that Lady Sué has been killed by Jiro’s assassin, he
corners Kaede and pushes her for information. She comes clean about her plot to
obliterate Hidetora and his clan to avenge the deaths of her f­ amily members. Kuro-
gane decapitates Kaede for her treachery. As Ayabe’s army overtakes the First
­Castle, Jiro, Kurogane, and all of Jiro’s men are killed. Tsurumaru is left amidst the
rubble, alone.

Reception
Ran had its world premiere in Tokyo on 25 May 1985. It was subsequently screened
at a number of film festivals before g­ oing into staggered general release in about
RAN 261

two dozen countries. Ran did not do very well at the box office, initially making
only enough to break even. It did, however, receive Oscar nominations for Best
Director, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, and Best Costume Design (which
it won), among many other international nominations and awards. Reviews w ­ ere,
for the most part, adulatory. Vincent Canby wrote, “Though big in physical scope
and of a beauty that suggests a kind of drunken, barbaric lyricism, Ran has the ter-
rible logic and clarity of a morality tale seen in tight close-up, of a myth that, while
being utterly specific and par­tic­u­lar in its time and place, remains ageless, infinitely
adaptable . . . ​­Here is a film by a man whose art now stands outside time and fash-
ion” (Canby, 1985). Roger Ebert called the film “visually magnificent” and said he
realized on seeing it again in 2000 that “the action d ­ oesn’t center on the old man,
but has a fearful energy of its own, through which he wanders. Kurosawa has not
told the story of a ­great man whose sin of pride drives him mad, but the story of a
man who has waged war all his life, hopes to impose peace in his old age and
unleashes even greater turmoil” (Ebert, 2000). De­cades ­after its release, most film
critics and scholars view Ran as Akira Kurosawa’s masterpiece.

Reel History Versus Real History


The story that Ran tells is, of course, entirely fictional. One can only judge its his-
torical accuracy in terms of its depictions of medieval Japa­nese c­ astles; the look,
dress, and demeanor of the Ichimonji clan; the conduct in b ­ attle of the samurai; e­ tc.
On t­ hese counts, Ran has extraordinary verisimilitude.
S
SAHARA (1943)

Synopsis
Sahara is an American war film directed by Zoltán Korda that stars Humphrey Bog-
art as an American tank commander in Libya during the Western Desert Cam-
paign of World War II. Bogart and his small tank crew dig in to defend an isolated
desert ­water well against an Afrika Korps battalion desperate for w
­ ater.

Background
A rousing Bogart actioner that does not seem derivative, Zoltán Korda’s Sahara
(1943) actually has a long, complicated genealogy. The film’s ultimate source is
Philip MacDonald’s Patrol, a 1927 novel about a group of WWI British soldiers lost
in the desert in Mesopotamia (modern-­day Iraq) and surrounded by the e­ nemy.
British writer-­director Walter Summers brought Lost Patrol, a ­silent film version of
Patrol, starring Cyril McLaglen, to the screen in 1929. Five years l­ater John Ford
crafted The Lost Patrol (1934), a solid American remake starring Cyril McLaglen’s
older ­brother, Victor, in the lead role. Three years ­later Rus­sian director Mikhail
Romm made a third film version entitled Trinisdat (The Thirteen) that made the sol-
diers Rus­sians, transferred the setting to Central Asia during the Basmachi Revolt
(1916–1924), and substituted Afghani bandits for John Ford’s ste­reo­typically loath-
some Arabs. The fourth of six films to recycle MacDonald’s Alamo-­like scenario
(followed by André de Toth’s Last of the Comanches in 1953 and Brian Trenchard-­
Smith’s Sahara, aka Desert Storm, in 1995), Zoltán Korda’s Sahara was adapted from
its immediate pre­de­ces­sor, Trinisdat, by Korda with the help of screenwriters James
O’Hanlon, John Howard Lawson, and Sidney Buchman. Transferring the action
from WWI-­era Af­ghan­i­stan to WWII-­era Libya, Korda and his writing team set
Sahara in June 1942, a­ fter the B
­ attle of Al Gazala, when Tobruk fell to Erwin Rom-
mel’s Afrika Korps and Allied forces w ­ ere in full retreat into Egypt. Released on
11 November 1943—­during the “Operation Torch” landings in Tunisia that sig-
naled the final, victorious phase of the North African Campaign—­Sahara is a crafty
pro-­Allied propaganda film that uses the backdrop of impending Allied victory in
North Africa to reflect on a time in the recent past when ­things ­were grim but the
requisite American grit and Allied solidarity w ­ ere fully in evidence.

Production
Columbia Pictures offered the lead role in Sahara (originally titled “Somewhere in
Sahara”) to Gary Cooper, Glenn Ford, and Brian Donlevy but the role fi­nally went
SAHARA 263

to Humphrey Bogart ­after he and Donlevy traded movies. With the full coopera-
tion of the War Department, shooting took place from early March to mid-­May 1943,
in 90° heat, in Anza-­Borrego Desert State Park, a 600,000-­acre preserve in the
Mojave Desert just west of California’s Salton Sea that was from the days of Rudolph
Valentino, Hollywood’s go-to locale for shooting desert pictures. Art Director Lio-
nel Banks had 2,000 tons of sand trucked in, spray painted, and blown around by
­giant fans to make the terrain look more like the towering sand dunes of the Sahara
Desert in Libya. The U.S. military supplied a 28-­ton M3 “Grant” medium tank, a
P-51 Mustang fighter (repainted to pass for a Messerschmitt 109 used in a strafing
scene), vari­ous other tanks, half-­tracks, weapons, equipment, and the 250 men of
“C” Com­pany, 84th Recon Battalion, 4th Armored Division, to play German sol-
diers in the film. During principal photography, cast and crew resided at the (now
defunct) Planter’s H­ otel in Brawley, California, about 50 miles east of the shooting
location, while the soldiers lived in tents at Anza-­Borrego. Bogart’s working rela-
tionship with Zoltán Korda was strained but not as much as his relationship with
his then-­w ife, Mayo Methot, whom he sardonically nicknamed “Sluggy” (they w ­ ere
known in Hollywood as “the battling Bogarts”). Marital trou­bles notwithstanding,
Bogart delivered one of his strongest per­for­mances, despite the fact that, at age 43,
he was at least 17 years older than the average G.I. in World War II. He considered
Sahara one of his best films.

Plot Summary
Separated from its unit during the latter stages of the ­Battle of Al Gazala, a U.S.
Army M3 tank (dubbed “Lulubelle”) commanded by Master Sergeant Joe Gunn
(Humphrey Bogart) is trying to rejoin the retreating British Eighth Army. Arriving
at a bombed-­out field hospital, Gunn and his remaining crew, Jimmy Doyle (Dan
Duryea) and Waco Hoyt (Bruce Bennett), pick up a motley group of stragglers,
among them British Captain Jason Halliday (Richard Nugent), four Commonwealth
soldiers, and ­Free French Corporal Jean “Frenchie” Leroux (Louis Mercier). Though
he outranks Gunn, Halliday cedes command to him. L ­ ater, they come upon Suda-
nese Sergeant Major Tambul (Rex Ingram) and his Italian prisoner of war, Giuseppe
(J. Carrol Naish). Initially, Gunn opts to leave Giuseppe b ­ ehind—­a sure death
sentence—­but humanitarian instincts prevail and the Italian is also taken aboard
the tank. Tambul offers to take the group to a well at Hassan Barani. On the way,
Luftwaffe pi­lot Captain von Schletow (Kurt Kreuger) fires at the tank and kills a
British soldier, but is subsequently shot out of the air and captured. The men reach
the well to find it bone dry. Low on w­ ater, Gunn and his ragtag outfit are forced to
seek ­water at another desert well at Bir Acroma, 50 miles away. Capably led by
Tambul through a blinding sandstorm, they find the well but it is almost dry. When
German troops arrive soon afterwards, Gunn and his men attack the vehicle. A
German survivor reveals that the Afrika Korps battalion is nearby, struggling to
find ­water. Gunn convinces his fellow soldiers to fight the Germans as a distrac-
tion while Waco Hoyt searches for backup. The two German survivors are released
to their battalion with an offer of ­water in exchange for food, despite the fact that
Gunn barely has w ­ ater for his own soldiers. When the German battalion shows
264 S A H A R A

up, Gunn changes the arrangement, demanding “guns for w ­ ater.” Though the well
has run dry, Gunn buys time by pretending that the well is full of w ­ ater while
negotiating with Major von Falken (John Wengraf), the German commander. The
Germans attack the sparsely defended well in waves and are repeatedly beaten
back, but the defenders are killed off one by one. Giuseppe, Tambul, and an
escaping von Schletow all perish. To Gunn’s amazement, the Germans’ final assault
turns into a mass surrender as they drop their weapons and crawl across the sand
­towards the well. To Gunn’s further amazement, a direct hit on the well by a Ger-
man artillery shell has accidentally released abundant amounts of w ­ ater. Gunn and
Osmond “Ozzie” Bates (Patrick O’Moore), the only other Allied survivor, disarm the
Germans while they quench their ravenous thirst. As Gunn and Bates march their
column of POWs east, they encounter Allied troops guided by Waco and receive
news of the Allied victory at the First ­Battle of El Alamein (1 July 1942–27 July 1942).

Reception
Box office receipts for Sahara ­were good and reviews ­were strong. For example,
Bosley Crowther called Sahara “a real he-­man picture . . . ​a laudable conception of
soldier fortitude in this war, and it is also a bang-up action picture, cut out to hold
one enthralled” (Crowther, 1943). The film earned Acad­emy Award nominations
for Best Sound (John Livadary), Best Cinematography (Black-­and-­White), and Best
Supporting Actor (J. Carrol Naish).

Reel History Versus Real History


The Office of War Information (OWI) advised Hollywood that, for propaganda pur-
poses, the ideal combat movie should show “an ethnically and geo­g raph­i­cally
diverse group of Americans [who] would articulate what they ­were fighting for,
pay due regard to the role of the Allies, and ­battle an e­ nemy who was formidable
but not a superman” (quoted in Kornweibel, Jr., 1981, p. 8). Sahara exceeds the
OWI’s mandate by featuring an international and interracial cast of Allies willing
to fight and die as a cohesive force. It also shows the Germans as ruthless—­von
Schletow and von Falken are ste­reo­typically arrogant and treacherous Nazis—­but
vulnerable to defeat on the battlefield. Fi­nally, and most importantly, Sahara con-
tains allegorical ele­ments and set speeches that rationalize the war against fascism
in emotionally compelling terms. Joe Gunn, a Yank, takes over from British Cap-
tain Halliday, neatly symbolizing the familiar U.S. role as rescuer of embattled
Eu­rope from German tyranny (a role that Bogart just dramatized with ­great suc-
cess in Casablanca). Major Tambul’s chasing down and vanquishing von Schletow
subliminally reminds audiences of Jesse Owens’ track victories over German com-
petitors in the 1936 Berlin Olympics or Joe Louis’s victory over Max Schmeling in
June 1938: blows against the myth of Aryan supremacy. J. Carrol Naish’s Oscar-­
nominated turn as the Italian POW, Giuseppe, is equally crucial to the film’s mean-
ing. Saved by Joe Gunn only to be ­later murdered by von Schletow, Giuseppe
epitomizes Italy as Hitler’s reluctant ally, repentant in defeat and awakened to the
evils of fascism. Just before his death, Giuseppe recaptures his full humanity by
denouncing the Axis powers in moral and religious terms: “But are my eyes blind
SAND PEBBLES, THE 265

that I must fall to my knees to worship a maniac [Mussolini] who has made of my
country a concentration camp, who has made of my p ­ eople slaves? . . . ​A s for your
Hitler, it’s b
­ ecause of a man like him that God—my God—­created hell!” Fi­nally,
the siege of the well at Bir Acroma conjures all the heroic but hopeless defensive
­battles of history, from Thermopylae to Wake Island. Unlike its historical pre­ce­
dents, Sahara delivers, deus ex machina, a miraculous albeit preposterous victory.

SAND PEBBLES, THE (1966)

Synopsis
The Sand Pebbles is an American adventure epic/war film directed and produced
by Robert Wise. Based on the 1962 novel of the same title by Richard McKenna,
the film tells the story of a U.S. Navy machinist’s mate (played by Steve McQueen)
aboard the fictional gunboat USS San Pablo in 1920s China: a country in the throes
of anti-­Western fervor and civil strife.

Background
In 1953, following a 22-­year ­career in the U.S. Navy as a chief machinist mate, Rich-
ard McKenna (1913–1964) undertook a second ­career as a writer. ­After dabbling in
science fiction, McKenna wrote his only novel: The Sand Pebbles, a 597-­page epic
about the travails of an American gunboat on China’s Yangtze River in 1926
(McKenna had served on such a gunboat, but a de­cade ­later, in 1936). The book
proved to be a huge hit: a condensed version was serialized in three issues of the
Saturday Eve­ning Post in November 1962; it won the $10,000 1963 Harper Prize
Novel, was chosen as a Book-­of-­the-­Month Club se­lection, and became a national
bestseller. Furthermore, McKenna sold the movie rights to United Artists (UA) for
$300,000 ($2.4 million in 2017 dollars). Shortly thereafter 20th  ­Century Fox
acquired the rights from UA and studio head Darryl F. Zanuck greenlit the proj­ect
for producer-­director Robert Wise in September 1962. The search for suitable film-
ing locations in Asia, script writing, and other pre-­production work would keep
the proj­ect on hold for another three years. Paul Newman was tapped for the lead
role of Jake Holman but turned it down. Teen crooner Pat Boone lobbied hard for
it but it fi­nally went to Steve McQueen (who was paid $650,000), a­ fter he achieved
true stardom in John Sturges’ The G ­ reat Escape (1963). A former Marine with a rebel-
lious streak and lover of all ­things mechanical, McQueen was perfectly suited to
play a feisty Navy machinist mate. When Julie Christie turned down the role of
Shirley Eckert, it went to Candice Bergen (who was just 19). Richard Attenborough
(an En­glishman playing an American who had appeared with McQueen in The
­Great Escape), Mako (a Japa­nese American actor playing a Chinese man), and Rich-
ard Crenna (in his first major film role) filled out the rest of the main cast. Pre-­
production work on The Sand Pebbles included the construction of the movie’s most
impor­tant and expensive prop: the San Pablo, a 150-­foot, steel-­hulled gunboat
closely modeled on the USS Villalobos (PG-42), an 1898 gunboat captured from
Spain during the Spanish-­A merican War and used on Yangtze River patrol from
266 SAND PEBBLES, THE

1903 to 1928. Built in Hong Kong by Vaughn & Yung Engineering Ltd. at a cost of
$250,000, the San Pablo was powered by reliable Cummins diesel engines, not a
period steam engine liable to break down and cause production delays. The San
Pablo emitted black smoke from her smokestack that came from old tires and other
rubbish burned in a special compartment on the boat. Jake Holman’s beloved
engine—­a working 20-­ton, 1,000-­horsepower, ­triple expansion steam engine built
by Vickers in 1920 and sal­vaged from a Norwegian ­whaler in Vancouver, British
Columbia—­was actually located in an engine room set built on Stage 16 at
20th ­Century Fox studios in Burbank, not on the San Pablo.

Production
Shooting in mainland China, where the novel was set, was out of the question, so
much of The Sand Pebbles was filmed on the Keelung and Tam Sui Rivers at Taipei,
on the island of Taiwan. The narrow, crowded streets of Taipei ­were used for street
scenes supposedly taking place in Shanghai, San Pablo’s home port. In the Tamsui
district of Taipei, 900 of the 5,000 locals ­were recruited as extras to storm across
the “Changsha Bund” and hurl lighted torches at the San Pablo. Po-­Han’s poignant
death scene was also filmed in Tamsui. Filming on Taiwan lasted four and a half
months (22 November 1965–21 March 1966). The com­pany then moved on to
Hong Kong to film the movie’s climactic fight between the San Pablo and 30 Chi-
nese junks blockading it, supposedly on the Chien River in mainland China, but
it was actually shot on a narrow inlet in Hong Kong’s Sai Kung district—­the mas-
sive 1,000-­foot bamboo rope that linked the junks together weighed 25 tons. Film-
ing of the ­battle scene, which took two months, was completed 15 May 1966. The
135-­person cast and crew then returned to California to shoot interior scenes at
the studio in Burbank and some additional exteriors at Malibu Creek State Park in
Calabasas in June and July. The grueling nine-­month shoot was fi­nally concluded
on 2 August 1966 at the USS Texas, near Houston, where what was supposed to
have been the film’s opening scene was shot (i.e., Jake’s departure from an Ameri-
can battleship in Shanghai harbor). Included in a test rough cut, that scene and
some other scenes ended up on the cutting room floor in order to trim the film’s
­r unning time from 196 minutes down to 182 minutes. Due to production delays,
mostly caused by inclement weather but also due to the language barrier in Tai-
wan, unpredictable tides, e­ tc., the film greatly exceeded its $8 million bud­get,
coming in at $12 million. Steve McQueen was so exhausted that he took a year off
to rest.

Plot Summary
In 1926, Machinist’s Mate 1st Class Jake Holman (Steve McQueen) transfers to the
Yangtze River Patrol gunboat USS San Pablo (nicknamed the “Sand Pebble” and its
sailors are dubbed “Sand Pebbles”). The officers have hired coolies to do most of
the routine work, leaving the sailors f­ ree for military drills or just lounging about.
An industrious individualist and avid mechanic, Holman takes over the operation
and maintenance of the ship’s engine—­inadvertently insulting the chief engine
room coolie, Chien (Tommy Lee) in the pro­cess. Holman also alienates most of
SAND PEBBLES, THE 267

his fellow sailors, who are lazy, but he does become close friends with a waterten-
der named Frenchy Burgoyne (Richard Attenborough). Holman discovers a serious
prob­lem with a crank bearing on the boat’s engine and informs the captain,
Lt. Collins (Richard Crenna), but Collins refuses to have it repaired u ­ ntil his execu-
tive officer declares an emergency. Chien asks to complete the repair and is acciden-
tally crushed to death when a jack slips. The chief coolie, Lop-­eye Shing (Henry
Wang), blames Holman, believing that a “ghost in the machine” killed Chien.
Holman selects Po-­Han (Mako) as a replacement for Chien, and the two men soon
become friends. Po-­Han is harassed by “Ski” Stawski (Simon Oakland), a brutish
sailor, and the two box while the rest of the crew places bets on the outcome. Po-­
Han wins the fight, creating greater friction between Holman and the other crew
members. Lt. Collins ­orders the crew to refrain from any hostilities with the Chi-
nese, as they d­ on’t want to add fuel to the propaganda fire. The boat embarks, but
Po-­Han is sent ashore to avenge Chien’s death. Po-­Han is run down, taken cap-
tive, and tortured by Chinese peasants while the crew watches from the boat. The
Chinese refuse to release Po-­Han, and Collins shoots him to relieve his suffering.
The San Pablo moors on the Xiang River due to low ­water levels, and Lt. Collins
begins to fear a mutiny. Frenchy dies from pneumonia a­ fter too many swims ashore
to visit his new wife Maily (Emmanuelle Arsan). Kuomintang (Chinese National-
ist Party) army soldiers locate Holman as he tries to comfort Maily, beat him, and
drag the grieving ­woman away. The next day, the Chinese claim that Holman has
“murdered” Maily and her unborn baby and demand that he is turned in as a crimi-
nal. The crew worries for their safety and asks Homan to surrender, but then Col-
lins shocks the Chinese with a gunshot to their boat, and Holman is left alone. In
the spring, Collins begins river patrols anew, but is then ordered back to the Yangtze
River. Before heading to his new post, Collins steams upstream to rescue Jameson
(Larry Gates), an idealistic missionary and his schoolteacher assistant, Shirley
Eckert (Candice Bergen), from their remote China Light Mission. A ­ fter a good deal
of fighting between the sailors and the Chinese near Dongting Lake, Collins leads
three sailors, including Holman, ashore. Jameson does not want to be rescued,
claiming that Eckert and he have renounced their U.S. citizenship and are com-
mitted to their post. Collins o­ rders Holman to evacuate Eckert and Jameson, but
just as Holman declares that he is ­going to stay with them, Jameson is suddenly
killed by Nationalist soldiers in a surprise attack. Collins is killed trying to pro-
vide cover for Holman, leaving him in command. He tearfully parts from Eckert
and is then fatally wounded right as he goes to join the ­others on his boat. His last
bewildered words are: “I was home [­free] . . . ​what happened . . . ​what the hell hap-
pened?” as the San Pablo sails away.

Reception
Four years in the works, The Sand Pebbles fi­nally premiered on 20 December 1966.
Proving a hit at the box office, the film grossed $30 million ($226.4 million in 2017
dollars). It received seven Oscar nominations, eight Golden Globe nominations,
and one win (a Golden Globe for Richard Attenborough as Best Supporting Actor).
Reviews w ­ ere, however, mixed. Philip K. Scheuer called it “a stirring movie . . . ​
268 SAND PEBBLES, THE

adventure on the g­ rand scale” (Scheuer, 1966). Richard Schickel found The Sand
Pebbles to be “a clumsy and lumbering film, but it has a way of haunting the cor-
ners of your mind, as historical footnotes are sometimes wont to do” (Schickel,
1967). Many reviewers complained about the film’s sheer length; at 3 hours it was
judged too long to be consistently engaging.

Reel History Versus Real History


Having served in the China River Patrol in 1936, novelist Richard McKenna
brought a good deal of authenticity to The Sand Pebbles in his rendition of daily
life on an American gunboat plying the ­waters of the Yangtze River in pre-­
revolutionary China. The novel is set between June 1925 and June 1926, whereas
the film is set in 1926–1927, but both settings encompass a particularly volatile
moment in China’s modern history: a time when the country was a powder keg,
seething with anti-­imperialist ardor and internecine po­liti­cal conflict. During the
setting of the novel, the Kuomintang (KMT or Nationalist Party of China) was in
the throes of a power vacuum following the death of its founder, Sun Yat-­sen, in
March 1925. On 5 June 1926 Chiang Kai-­shek was named commander-­in-­chief
of the National Revolutionary Army (NRA). Five weeks ­later he fi­nally launched
Sun’s long-­delayed Northern Expedition, aimed at conquering the northern war-
lords and uniting China ­under the KMT. Chiang disapproved of Sun Yat-­sen’s
alliance with the Soviet Union and the Communist Party of China (CPC) but he
still needed Soviet aid, so he could not break up the alliance at that time. The
film shifts the novel’s temporal framework forward about a year and distills and
streamlines McKenna’s fictional saga, but still manages to capture the po­liti­cally
explosive po­liti­cal climate, an uneasy time for gunboats of foreign powers on the
Yangtze, with their very presence stirring intense resentment among Chinese
nationalists and communists sick and tired of “gunboat diplomacy,” that is,
thinly disguised imperialist intervention. The culminating attack on the USS San
Pablo may have been inspired by the so-­called “USS Panay incident” (12 Decem-
ber 1937), when Japa­nese forces invading China bombed, strafed, and sank a
U.S. gunboat on the Yangtze River, killing 3 and wounding 43, a sinking that
caused a diplomatic rift between the United States and Japan and presaged Pearl
Harbor. The plot ele­ment involving the killing of missionary Jameson at China
Light Mission may have been inspired by the killing of American Christian mis-
sionaries John and Betty Stam (8 December 1934) by Chinese communists dur-
ing the Chinese Civil War. Another pos­si­ble antecedent: the “China Martyrs of
1900”: hundreds of American and Eu­ro­pean Christian missionaries and converts
who ­were killed during the Boxer Rebellion (1899–1901). One final note: a num-
ber of film critics erroneously assumed that The Sand Pebbles was meant to be an
implicit critique of American intervention in Southeast Asia—­the Vietnam War
was in full swing when the film came out at the end of 1966—­but that was never
Richard McKenna’s intention when he published the book in 1962, or the intention
of the filmmakers four years ­later.
SANDS OF IWO JIMA 269

SANDS OF IWO JIMA (1949)

Synopsis
Sands of Iwo Jima is a war film written by Harry Brown and James Edward Grant,
directed by Allan Dwan, and starring John Wayne. The film follows a group of
U.S. Marines from training camp to the B ­ attle of Iwo Jima during World War II.

Background
In 1948 Republic Pictures producer Edmund Grainger encountered the phrase
“sands of Iwo Jima” in a newspaper. He recalled Joe Rosenthal’s iconic photo­graph
of the flag raising on Mount Suribachi and deci­ded to make a movie on the notori-
ously bloody ­battle (February–­March 1945) that took 6,821 American lives and
nearly wiped out the Japa­nese defending force of some 20,000 men. Grainger wrote
a 40-­page treatment that was developed into a screenplay by Harry Brown, author
of A Walk in the Sun. The script was then refined by James Earl “Jimmy” Grant,
John Wayne’s favorite screenwriter, a­ fter Wayne agreed to star in the picture. Ini-
tially slated to star Forrest Tucker and cost a very modest $250,000, the movie’s
bud­get was more than doubled a­ fter Wayne was hired but to the chagrin of studio
owner Herbert Yates, still went $400,000 over bud­get. Upon release, however, it
soon recouped all its costs and made a healthy profit.

Production
Avid to commemorate its pivotal role in securing Amer­i­ca’s Pacific Theater against
Japan in World War II, anxious also for profile-­raising publicity to ward off a con-
gressional attempt to merge it with the U.S. Army, the U.S. Marine Corps provided
full support. ­After vetting and approving the script, the Corps supplied technical
advisors, de­mo­li­tion engineers, an entire regiment (2,000 Marines) as extras, copi-
ous amounts of war matériel (including planes and ships), thousands of feet of
­actual combat footage, and the use of the sprawling Marine Corps base at Camp
Pendleton (including Camp Del Mar and El Toro Marine Air Station) in southern
California, assistance that saved Republic huge sums of money and bolstered the
film’s putative authenticity. To re-­create reasonable facsimiles of Tarawa and Iwo
Jima, set dressers working for Art Director James S­ ullivan installed fake palm trees,
gun emplacements, pill boxes, and miles of barbed wire. They also coated the white
sand at Ocean­side beach (where the Iwo landing sequence was shot) with oil to
make it resemble the dark volcanic sands of Iwo Jima. At director Allan Dwan’s
request, General Graves B. Erskine (commander of Camp Pendleton) sent his tough-
est drill sergeant to the set to whip the actors into shape. Sands of Iwo Jima was
filmed in July and August 1949.

Plot Summary
At Camp Paekakariki in New Zealand Marine Sergeant John Stryker (John Wayne)
subjects his ­r ifle squad to a grueling training regimen and is despised for it. His
greatest detractors are Pfc. Pete Conway (John Agar), a haughty son of the admirable
Col­o­nel Sam Conway, u ­ nder whom Stryker served, and Private Al Thomas (Forrest
270 SANDS OF IWO JIMA

Tucker), who sees Stryker as responsible for his demotion in rank. As Stryker
commands his unit during the Tarawa invasion, his unit falls in line and accepts
him with the exception of Conway, who is critical of Stryker’s decision to leave a
wounded soldier ­behind. Mid-­battle, Thomas is tasked with getting more ammu-
nition, but ­causes a delay by taking a coffee break, one that results in the death of
Hellenopolis (Peter Coe). Stryker and Thomas come to blows over the incident, and
while a passing officer sees the incident and goes to intervene, Thomas covers for
Stryker. ­Later, a conscience-­stricken Thomas asks forgiveness for dereliction of duty,
thus completing his moral rehabilitation. While on leave in Honolulu Stryker, a
married man whose wife has left him, reveals a softer side. A ­ fter picking up a bar-
girl named Mary (Julie Bishop) and returning with her to her apartment, Stryker
hears sounds emanating from an adjacent room which turns out to be the cries of
Mary’s infant son whom she is struggling to support. Stryker gives Mary some money
and leaves without seeking any sexual f­avors. Afterwards, as the soldiers train, a
new recruit mistakenly drops a live hand grenade. Every­body takes cover, but Con-
way is reading a letter and does not realize that his life is in danger. Stryker tack-
les him to the ground, saving him from certain death, and then berates him for
being inattentive. Thereafter, Stryker’s squad hits the beach at Iwo Jima and takes
part in the fierce b­ attle for the island. With victory at hand and the squad at rest,
Stryker is killed by a hidden Japanese sniper. The surviving squad members find
an unfinished letter he was carry­ing addressed to his estranged young son. Thomas
reads it, and an emotional Pete Conway vows to “finish it for him.” ­After the squad
solemnly witnesses the American flag being raised on Mount Suribachi, Conway
admonishes his men to “­Saddle up! Let’s get back in the war!”

Reception
A government-­sponsored Cold War paean to military duty, honor, and patriotism,
Sands of Iwo Jima was essentially a recruiting movie. Released six months before the
outbreak of the Korean War, it did well with most film critics, though some review-
ers found the film cliché-­ridden. Sands also proved to be a solid hit at the box office,
earning $3.9 million in receipts for a $2.9 million profit, making it Republic’s
most successful movie. Four Oscar nominations followed, for Best Actor in a Lead-
ing Role (John Wayne); Best Writing, Motion Picture Story (Harry Brown); Best
Sound, Recording (T. A. Carman and Howard Wilson); and Best Film Editing
(Richard L. Van Enger). Furthermore, Sands of Iwo Jima cemented John Wayne’s
status as a major movie star. His role as Stryker also made him an exemplar of the
sort of forlorn American masculinity popu­lar with adolescent boys in the post-­war
era: a lonely, romantic figure—­woman-­abandoned but stoical—­that would be best
epitomized by Alan Ladd a few years l­ater in Shane (1953). In his 1976 memoir,
Born on the Fourth of July, disabled Vietnam veteran and anti-­war activist Ron Kovic
cites Sands of Iwo Jima as one of the films that inspired him to enlist, with disas-
trous results. Ironically, and to his lasting embarrassment, John Wayne was strictly
a make-­believe war hero who never served in the military. In a 1987 article in The
New York Times Magazine, ex-­Marine William Manchester recalls having “the
enormous plea­sure of seeing [John] Wayne humiliated in person” at Aiea Heights
S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N 271

Naval Hospital in Oahu, Hawaii. One eve­ning in 1945 Wayne made a personal
appearance before badly wounded survivors of the ­Battle of Okinawa: “the cur-
tains parted and out stepped John Wayne, wearing a cowboy outfit . . . ​He grinned
his aw-­shucks grin, passed a hand over his face and said, ‘Hi ya, guys!’ He was
greeted by a stony silence. Then somebody booed. Suddenly every­one was booing.
This man was a symbol of the fake machismo we had come to hate, and we ­weren’t
­going to listen to him. He tried and tried to make himself heard, but we drowned
him out, and eventually he quit and left” (Manchester, 1987, p. 84). Five years ­later
Manchester and another Marine w ­ ere ejected from a movie theater for laughing
hysterically during a screening of Sands of Iwo Jima. In the end, though, hegemonic
pro-­war, pro-­patria ideology prevailed. At an American Legion Convention in
Miami, Florida (17 October 1951), six months ­after being sacked by President Tru-
man for insubordination, Gen. Douglas MacArthur demonstrated he was laugh-
ably oblivious as to the real combat experiences of rank-­and-­file U.S. ser­v icemen
in WWII when he told John Wayne, “You represent the American ser­v iceman
better than the American ser­v iceman himself” (quoted in Davis, 1998, p. 118).
Wayne himself remained equally oblivious to his real status as a faux warrior. In
­later years he disingenuously declared “The Marines and all the American Armed
Forces w­ ere quite proud of my portrayal of Stryker” (Suid, 2001, p. 129).

Reel History Versus Real History


­There is surprisingly ­little combat depicted in Sands of Iwo Jima but some of it
consists of ­actual footage taken by Signal Corps cameramen during the fighting
on Tarawa and Iwo Jima. Furthermore, a number of ­actual soldiers portrayed
themselves in the film: Lt. Gen. Holland M. Smith (ret.), the 5th Amphibious
Corps commander (also one of the film’s technical advisors); Medal of Honor
winner Col. David M. Shoup, USMC; Capt. Harold G. Schrier, USMC, who com-
manded the Marines on Mt. Suribachi; Lt. Col. H. P. Crowe, USMC, a battalion
commander on Tarawa; and Pfc. Rene A. Gagnon, Pfc. Ira H. Hayes, and PM 3/c
John H. Bradley, three of the flag raisers on Mt. Suribachi. At 42, John Wayne was
rather old to play the part of a WWII Marine sergeant, but screenwriters Harry
Brown and Jimmy Grant make Stryker a believably flawed character—­not quite
the cardboard hero he so often played.

S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N ( 1 9 9 8 )

Synopsis
Saving Private Ryan is an American war epic set during and immediately ­after the
invasion of Normandy (June 1944) in World War II. Written by Robert Rodat and
directed by Steven Spielberg, the film follows U.S. Army Rangers Capt. John H.
Miller (Tom Hanks) who commands a squad (Tom Sizemore, Edward Burns, Barry
Pepper, Giovanni Ribisi, Vin Diesel, Adam Goldberg, and Jeremy Davies) searching
for paratrooper James Francis Ryan (Matt Damon), the last surviving b ­ rother of
four U.S. ser­v icemen.
272 S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N

Background
The Niland ­brothers—­Edward (“Eddie”), Preston, Robert (“Bob”), and Frederick
(“Fritz”)—­were four ­brothers from Tonawanda, New York, who served in the U.S.
military during World War II. Of the four, two survived the war. For a time, though,
it was believed that only one b ­ rother, Sgt. Fritz Niland, 501st Parachute Infantry
Regiment (PIR), 101st Airborne, had survived. Eddie was shot down over Burma
and reported missing on 16 May 1944; Bob was killed on D-­Day; Preston was killed
the day a­ fter. To spare his f­amily further grief, Fritz Niland was pulled off the
frontline near Normandy and returned to the United States to complete his ser­
vice. Almost a year ­after D-­Day, Fritz learned that Eddie, missing and presumed
dead, had actually survived and had been held captive in a Japa­nese POW camp
in Burma. Fifty years ­later, screenwriter Robert Rodat (Fly Away Home) saw a
monument dedicated to the four sons of Agnes Allison of Port Carbon, Pennsyl-
vania, all killed in the Civil War. Struck by the tragedy of a single f­amily’s huge
loss in war, Rodat began to research WWII instances and read a slightly incor-
rect account of the Niland saga in Stephen Ambrose’s D-­Day June  6, 1944: The
Climactic B­ attle of World War II (1994) and deci­ded to use the Niland story as the
rough basis for a film script. Rodat’s first draft included an opening Omaha Beach
sequence, altered the number of b ­ rothers killed from two to three, and added a
search and rescue mission. In the spring of 1995 Rodat successfully pitched his
script idea to producer Mark Gordon (a partner with Gary Levinsohn in Mutual
Film Co., a newly formed production firm). Over the next two years Rodat and
Gordon collaborated on 15 drafts of a script before shopping it around to the stu-
dios. Initially they met with rejection; the prevailing view was that WWII movies
­were passé. ­Things changed in 1997, however, when Gordon sent the script to
Tom Hanks and got an enthusiastic reception. Gordon also sent the script to Cre-
ative Artists Agency (CAA) agent Karen Sage, who then pitched the concept to
Steven Spielberg, a close friend of Hanks. Having an abiding interest in the Sec-
ond World War, Spielberg embraced Rodat’s script. Spielberg’s studio (Dream-
Works SKG) subsequently signed a distribution deal with Paramount and hired its
own line producer, Ian Bryce, thus limiting the further involvement of Gordon
and Levinsohn (though relations between parties remained cordial). Spielberg
also followed suit with other directors making war films since 1984 and hired
former Marine Dale Dye’s Warriors, Inc., to put his principal actors through a
tough six-­day boot camp to familiarize them with standard military operating
procedure, but also to have them gain re­spect for the arduous life of a soldier. Matt
Damon was exempted to make the rest of the group feel resentment t­owards the
Pvt. Ryan character. Tom Sanders, Spielberg’s production designer, who was Mel
Gibson’s designer on Braveheart (1995), went to Ireland and once again struck a
deal to use 1,000 Irish Army reservists as extras. Ian Bryce located 10 WWII-­era
landing craft in Palm Springs, California, and had the vessels transported to
St. Austell, Cornwall, E ­ ngland, where they w ­ ere made seaworthy by Robin Davies’
Square Sail Ventures. As for the film’s visual style, Janusz Kamiński, Spielberg’s
regular director of photography since Schindler’s List, opted for a look “very much
like color newsreel footage from the 1940s, which is highly desaturated and very
S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N 273

grainy and extremely low tech” (www​.­tcm​.­com​/­tcmdb​/­title​/­335178​/­Saving​-­Private​


-­Ryan ​/­articles​.­html). To further suggest the shaky quality of newsreel footage, com-
bat scenes w ­ ere filmed with handheld cameras and, as was done for Mel Gibson’s
Braveheart, some frames ­were deleted in the editing pro­cess to underscore a sense
of the jarring immediacy of combat.

Production
The two-­month shoot on Saving Private Ryan began on 27 June 1997 with the film-
ing of the 23 minute D-­Day landing sequence, which was shot over a three-­week
period (27 June–17 July) on Curracloe Strand in Ballinesker, Ireland, about 70 miles
south of Dublin: a beach not as broad as the real Omaha Beach in France so wide-­
angle lenses ­were used to visually extend the length of the flats on the sandy beach
before the soldiers reach the shingle. Beforehand, hundreds of workers spent two
months building facsimile German coastal fortifications, trenches, and beach obsta-
cles (e.g., steel anti-­tank “Czech hedgehogs,” wooden ramps, posts with mines,
­etc.). The shoot then moved to the grounds of a former British Aerospace factory
in Hertfordshire, about 20 miles north of London, where the fictive, ruined French
village of Ramelle was built (a set l­ater reused for Spielberg’s 2001 TV miniseries
Band of ­Brothers) and the final ­battle was filmed, described by Spielberg as a “very
complicated sequence which took weeks and weeks to plan out on paper” (Piz-
zello and Spielberg, 1996, p. 4). The Ryan farmstead where Mrs. Ryan receives news
of three of her sons’ deaths was allegedly in Iowa but was actually built near West
Kennet, Wiltshire, 85 miles west of London. Two scenes—­the costly skirmish with
the German machine-­gun nest near a ruined radar installation, and the ambush of
the German half-­track—­were filmed on the grounds of Thame Park, about 15 miles
east of Oxford. The chapel on the grounds of Thame Park was used for the French
church where Miller’s squad rests overnight. The only shooting actually done in
Normandy was for the present-­day scenes bookending the film that take place at
the American Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-­sur-­Mer.

Plot Summary
On the morning of 6 June 1944, American soldiers land on Omaha Beach as part
of the D-­Day Normandy invasion. Exposed to withering artillery and machine-­
gun fire from German coastal positions, they suffer extremely heavy losses. Capt.
John H. Miller (Tom Hanks) of the 2nd Ranger Battalion puts together a unit to
break through the German defenses. Meanwhile, on the beach, a deceased soldier
lies face down in the sand, with “Ryan, S.” printed on his belongings. Back at the
U.S. War Department in Washington, D.C., General George Marshall (Harve
Presnell) hears that three out of four b ­ rothers serving in the war have perished in
­battle, while the fourth b
­ rother, James Ryan, has gone missing in Normandy, France.
Taking inspiration from Abraham Lincoln’s Bixby letter, Marshall demands that
the remaining Ryan be located and returned to his ­family. Capt. Miller is tasked
with bringing Ryan home, and so forms a unit of six troops from his platoon:
T/Sgt. Mike Horvath (Tom Sizemore), Pfcs. Richard Reiben (Edward Burns) and
Adrian Caparzo (Vin Diesel), Pvts. Stanley Mellish (Adam Goldberg) and Danny
274 S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N

Capt. Miller (Tom Hanks, left) confers with Pvt. Ryan (Matt Damon) in a still from
Steven Spielberg’s World War II epic, Saving Private Ryan (1998). (DreamWorks
­Distribution/Photofest)

Jackson (Barry Pepper), medic Irwin Wade (Giovanni Ribisi), and T/5 Timothy
Upham (Jeremy Davies), a cartographer and interpreter—to find the missing
soldier. Once in Neuville-­au-­Plain, they connect with the 101st Airborne Divi-
sion. Caparzo is shot and killed by a German sniper, who is in turn killed by
Jackson. Stopping ­later for a short break while a runner goes to search for Capt.
Hamill (Ted Danson) to ask him about Ryan, Sgt. Hill (Paul Giamatti), who briefly
joins Miller’s men, inadvertently knocks over an unstable brick wall, revealing a
group of German soldiers. A frantic standoff between the two armed parties
ensues but comes to an abrupt end by the timely arrival of Hamill and another
paratrooper, both of whom unload their automatic weapons into the unsuspect-
ing Germans. Soon thereafter, Miller’s squad locates a Pvt. James Ryan, but they
soon figure out that he is not the person t­hey’re looking for. Soon a­ fter, they
come across one of Ryan’s friends, who informs the unit that Ryan is defending
a bridge in Ramelle. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, Miller opts to overtake a
German machine-­gun position en route to Ramelle. The men protest, but Miller
insists. Wade dies in the ensuing firefight. Miller decides against killing one of the
German survivors, nicknamed “Steamboat Willie” (Joerg Stadler), and instead
sends him away with instructions to surrender to the next Allied troops that cross
his path. Losing confidence in Miller’s leadership for not circumventing the
machine-­gun nest, Reiben, still unsettled over the decision to infiltrate the German
S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N 275

machine-­g un position, announces that he is ­going to desert, but ­after a confronta-


tion and intervention by Miller, Reiben changes his mind and stays with his unit.
Before they reach Ramelle, Miller and the soldiers encounter a unit of paratroopers
ambushing a German Sd.Kfz. 251 half-­track. One of them turns out to be Pvt.
James Ryan (Matt Damon). Miller breaks the news about Ryan’s deceased b ­ rothers
and informs Ryan that he has ­orders to bring the private home. He also tells Ryan
he has lost two men trying to find him. Though bereaved at the loss of his b ­ rothers,
Ryan refuses to be led back to safety, so Miller relents, joining his team with the
paratroopers to defend the bridge. Miller sets up defenses throughout the town.
Tanks and infantry from the 2nd SS Panzer Division arrive. The American sol-
diers put up a valiant fight, but the majority of the paratroopers, along with
Horvath, Mellish, and Jackson, die. Upham is frozen in fear and avoids the fight.
Miller makes an effort to blow up the bridge, but he is shot by Steamboat Willie,
who has arrived on the scene with his comrades. As a Tiger tank comes up to
the bridge, an American P-51 Mustang suddenly appears in the sky and blows
up the tank, and American armored troops appear and push back the Germans.
Having witnessed Miller’s shooting, Upham confronts Steamboat Willie and his
group as they attempt to retreat. Steamboat Willie raises his hands in surrender,
believing that Upham ­w ill let him go ­because of their earlier encounter. Instead,
Upham, having seen Steamboat Willie shoot Miller, finds Willie and shoots him to
avenge Miller. Reiben and Ryan are close to Miller as he dies and take in his final
words: “James . . . ​Earn this. Earn it.” Flash-­forward 50 years to the pres­ent day,
late 1990s: the el­derly James Ryan, accompanied by his f­ amily, visits the American
Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-­sur-­Mer, Normandy, and discovers Capt.
John Miller’s gravestone among the thousands of ­others. A tearful James Ryan
mentions how grateful he is to Miller and his unit for saving his life. He won­ders
­whether he is worthy of their sacrifices, and his wife comforts him and confirms
that he is indeed a “good man.” Ryan then salutes Miller’s grave. The final image is
of the American flag fluttering in the wind over the cemetery.

Reception
Saving Private Ryan had its world premiere on 21 July 1998 and went into wide
release in North Amer­i­c a three days l­ ater (widest release: 2,807 theaters). Stag-
gered releases in foreign markets took place that fall. During its initial 17-­week
domestic run, the movie earned $190.6 million at the box office. ­After Saving Private
Ryan garnered 11 Oscar nominations in February 1998, the movie was re-­released
(widest release: 1,140 theaters) to take advantage of its enhanced profile. It ran
­until 27 May 1998 and earned another $25.7 million, bringing the total domestic
gross to $216.3 million—­t he highest-­g rossing film of 1998 in the United States.
Foreign ticket sales came in even higher, at $268.7 million. Overall, the movie
grossed $485 million versus a $70 million production bud­get, making it a block-
buster hit. Though it lost the Best Picture Oscar to John Madden’s Shakespeare in
Love, Saving Private Ryan won five Oscars: Best Director (Steven Spielberg); Best
Cinematography (Janusz Kamiński); Best Editing (Michael Kahn); Best Sound
(Gary Rydstrom, Gary Summers, Andy Nelson, and Ron Judkins); and Best
276 S AV I N G P R I VAT E R YA N

Sound Effects Editing (Gary Rydstrom, Richard Hymns). It also won two Golden
Globes, three BAFTAs, and numerous other awards and received mostly high praise
from film critics. For example, Peter Rainer singled out the Omaha Beach sequence
for special praise: “This opening sequence, in which thousands of men are splayed
and pulverized, is perhaps the most wrenching ­battle scene ever filmed. It goes
way beyond what w ­ e’re used to in war movies.” For Rainer, Saving Private Ryan
“­doesn’t offer up the homilies that have drenched the morale-­boosting WWII
movies . . . ​By ­going back to a Good War and focusing so clearly on its carnage,
he’s putting forth the most obvious of positions: War is about killing ­people”
(Rainer, 1998). T ­ here w­ ere, however, dissenting opinions. Although Ella Taylor
praised Saving Private Ryan for using “screen brutality just the way it should be
used—to deglamorize the undiscriminating overkill of modern combat, in which
survival is governed far more by dumb luck than by derring-do, and heroism is
beside the point,” she also criticized the film for ending “in a burst of schmaltzy
ritual. [James Ryan], now an old man, falls to his knees in a cemetery filled with
white crosses, then begs his wife to tell him that he’s a good man. With this hope-
lessly cloying coda, Spielberg, having won his ­battles, loses sight of the war”
(Taylor, 1998). Still, the most damning reviews were by WWII veterans Paul
Fussell and Howard Zinn. A decorated U.S. Army combat veteran (103rd Infantry
Division) but also an intellectual who wrote authoritatively on war (The G ­ reat War
and Modern Memory), Fussell praised Spielberg’s 2001 mini-­series Band of ­Brothers
as “au­then­tic” but found Saving Private Ryan conventional Hollywood fare: “­After
an honest, harrowing, 15-­minute [sic] opening, visualizing details of the unbearable
bloody mess at Omaha Beach, [the movie] degenerated into a harmless, uncritical
patriotic per­for­mance apparently designed to thrill 12-­year-­old boys during the
summer bad-­film season. Its genre was pure cowboys and Indians, with the virtu-
ous cowboys of course victorious” (Fussell, 2001). A veteran of the air war over
Eu­rope (Eighth Air Force, 490th Bombardment Group), but also a po­liti­cal sci-
ence professor (Boston University), author (­People’s History of the United States), and
lifelong social activist, Howard Zinn admitted to being taken in by the film’s
“extraordinarily photographed b ­ attle scenes” but further noted that he “disliked
the film intensely. I was angry at it ­because I did not want the suffering of men in
war to be used—­yes, exploited—in such a way as to revive what should be buried
along with all ­those bodies in Arlington Cemetery: the glory of military heroism”
(Zinn, 1998, p. 39).

Reel History Versus Real History


Though widely regarded as historically au­then­tic, Saving Private Ryan is problem-
atic in many areas, including its famed Omaha Beach sequence. Though it uses
fictional names, the movie accurately depicts the carnage and chaos at Dog Green,
Omaha Beach, where ele­ments of the U.S. 116th Regiment, 29th Infantry Division,
and the 2nd  and 5th  Ranger Battalions took extremely heavy casualties from
German automatic weapons fire and artillery and the sea ran red with blood, as the
film shows. Tom Hanks’s Capt. Miller is based in part on Capt. Ralph Goranson
(1919–2012), the commanding officer of Com­pany C, 2nd Ranger Battalion. What
the film d­ oesn’t indicate is that this was the absolute worst sector of the landings
SCHINDLER’S LIST 277

and not typical of the invasion as a w ­ hole. Overall, D-­Day was no walk-­over but
the operation’s 3,000 fatalities ­were far fewer than the 10,000 anticipated. Military
historian Antony Beevor (D-­Day: The B ­ attle for Normandy) points out that the “real
fighting and the real casualties came in the ­Battle of Normandy” further inland, in
the weeks following D-­Day (Carey, 2009). Other aspects of the D-­Day sequence
are not wrong but also tend to be misleading. Front and side view following shots
of the Higgins Boats approaching the shore show lots of open w ­ ater right to the
horizon. The D-­Day naval operation, code-­named Operation Neptune, involved
history’s largest armada: 6,939 vessels (including 4,126 landing craft); any view
­toward the sea that day would have disclosed myriad ships and boats as far as the
eye could see. At 23 minutes ­r unning time, the movie’s Omaha Beach segment
also suggests that the American breakout from the beach occurred quite quickly.
In real­ity, it took U.S. troops, aided by further naval bombardment not depicted in
the film, some four hours to capture frontline German positions and get clear of
the beach. Even then, Omaha w ­ asn’t entirely secure u ­ ntil the early after­noon of
6 June—­more than seven hours a­ fter the first wave landed. During the b ­ attle at the
fictive town of Ramelle, the film wrongly depicts the 2nd SS Panzer Division in
the vicinity of Normandy just days ­after the landings; it was not. Also, the movie’s
final ­battle is rife with unlikely tactical errors for an elite German unit (e.g., sending
in armor ahead of ground troops). Fi­nally, in a broader sense, Saving Private Ryan
implicitly reiterates the popu­lar but erroneous American notion that the United
States almost singlehandedly won the war against Hitler’s Germany and that D-­Day
was the decisive turning point. In point of fact, it was the Soviet Union, not the
Western Allies that defeated Hitler’s war machine (and lost 8.7 million soldiers and
17.9 million civilians in the pro­cess). By June 1944, Germany had already been
militarily beaten by the Red Army, was in steady retreat on the Eastern Front, and
was about to suffer a military catastrophe far greater than D-­Day: the total destruc-
tion of the Wehrmacht’s Army Group Center during Operation Bagration (22
June–19 August 1944), the Soviet strategic offensive that liberated Belorus­sia and
cleared a path for Berlin.

SCHINDLER’S LIST (1993)

Synopsis
Schindler’s List is an American historical epic scripted by Steven Zaillian and directed
and co-­produced by Steven Spielberg. Based on Schindler’s Ark (1982) by Austra-
lian novelist Thomas Keneally, the film tells the story of Oskar Schindler, a Ger-
man business professional who protected over 1,000 mostly Polish Jewish refugees
from certain death during the Holocaust by giving them jobs in his factories dur-
ing World War II. It stars Liam Neeson as Schindler, Ralph Fiennes as SS officer
Amon Göth, and Ben Kingsley as Schindler’s accountant, Itzhak Stern.

Background
Leopold Page (real name: Leopold “Poldek” Pfefferberg, 1913–2001), a Polish Amer-
ican Holocaust survivor who ran a small Beverly Hills leather goods store, was one
278 SCHINDLER’S LIST

Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson, left) intervenes to save a Jewish f­ amily from the Nazis in
Steven Spielberg’s celebrated Holocaust epic, Schindler’s List (1993). (Universal/Photofest)

of 1,098 Polish Jews (801 men and 297 w ­ omen) saved by Oskar Schindler (1908–
1974), a Roman Catholic, a member of the Nazi Party, and war profiteer in Kraków,
Poland, who paradoxically risked his life to save Jews during World War II. Pfef-
ferberg made it his life’s mission to honor Schindler’s memory. In 1963 he told
Schindler’s story to the wife of film producer Marvin Gosch, obtained a meeting
with Gosch, and eventually sold the film rights to MGM for $50,000. Delbert Mann
was slated to direct and Howard Koch (Casablanca) was contracted to write the
script but somehow the deal fell through. In October 1980, during a layover while
on a book tour, Australian writer Thomas Keneally (The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith)
stopped in to Pfefferberg’s store to buy a briefcase and Pfefferberg regaled him with
Schindler’s remarkable story, also showing him materials from two filing cabinets
full of information he had collected about Schindler. Intrigued, Keneally spent the
next two years researching the story, which also involved interviewing 50 Schindler-
juden (“Schindler’s Jews”). The resulting historical novel, Schindler’s Ark (1982),
became a Booker Prize–­w inning bestseller. Sent a review of the book by ­Music
Corporation of Amer­i­ca president Sidney Sheinberg, director Steven Spielberg
expressed interest, whereupon Universal Pictures bought the film rights for
$500,000. Spielberg met with Pfefferberg in the spring of 1983 and told him he
would start filming in 10 years, when he felt he was mature enough to make a
movie about the Holocaust. True to his word, Spielberg let almost a de­cade elapse
before he undertook his Schindler movie, during which time he hired Keneally to
adapt his own book to the screen. In the meantime Spielberg directed a string of
SCHINDLER’S LIST 279

other pictures and strug­gled with ambivalence about tackling the Holocaust. At
one point he tried to pass the proj­ect on to director Roman Polanski. Having sur-
vived the Kraków Ghetto—­and lost his m ­ other, who was gassed at Auschwitz—­
Polanski could not face the task ­either (though he eventually directed his own
Holocaust film, The Pianist, 2002). Dissatisfied with Keneally’s script, which he
found too long and not evocative enough, Spielberg hired Kurt Luedtke (Out of
Africa) to write the next draft in 1984. Luedtke gave up almost four years ­later,
finding Schindler’s change of heart too unbelievable to convincingly depict. In 1989
Martin Scorsese took over as director and hired Steven Zaillian to write another
draft of the script, but soon had second thoughts. Scorsese swapped pictures with
Spielberg, handing the Schindler proj­ect back to him in exchange for a remake of
Cape Fear (1991). Fi­nally in full control of his Schindler movie, Spielberg asked Zail-
lian to extend his 115-­page draft to 195 pages, fill out depictions of the Schindlerju-
den, extend the ghetto liquidation sequence to full effect, and make Schindler’s
moral transition more gradual and ambiguous. Spielberg also did extensive research
on his own. Kevin Costner, Mel Gibson, and Warren Beatty all offered to play
Schindler, but Spielberg wanted Swiss actor Bruno Ganz (who would ­later play Hit-
ler in Downfall, 2004). Failing to secure Ganz, Spielberg offered the part to Harrison
Ford, who also turned it down. Spielberg ended up casting the relative unknown
Liam Neeson in December  1992, ­after watching him portray Mat Burke in a
preview of Eugene O’Neil’s Anna Christie on Broadway. For Amon Göth (1908–
1946), a psychopathic SS officer who was Schindler’s influential friend, Spielberg
cast Ralph Fiennes a­ fter seeing him play T. E. Lawrence in A Dangerous Man: Law-
rence ­after Arabia (1992). In uniform Fiennes looked so much like Göth that when
survivor Mila Pfefferberg met him, she found herself shaking uncontrollably. Spiel-
berg cast Ben Kingsley (Gandhi) as Itzhak Stern—­a character embodying Schindler’s
conscience that is actually an amalgam of three real persons: Schindler’s accoun-
tant, Stern (1901–1969); his factory man­ag­er, Abraham Bankier (1910–1956); and
Göth’s personal secretary, Mietek Pemper (1920–2011).

Production
Schindler’s List was shot at or near a­ctual locations in and around Kraków,
Poland, over 72 work days (1 March–1 June 1993), wrapping up four days ahead
of schedule. Spielberg deci­ded to film in black and white at the suggestion of his
cinematographer, Janusz Kamiński, who was inspired by an ­album of photo­
graphs by Roman Wiśniak, a photographer of Jewish settlements in 1920–1939.
To heighten a sense of cinema vérité immediacy, nearly half of the movie was
filmed with handheld cameras. Spielberg considered filming entirely in German
and Polish but deci­ded to keep the dialogue in En­glish, partly ­because he felt he
­wouldn’t be able to assess per­for­mances in unfamiliar languages but also to avoid
the distraction that subtitle reading would provide to viewers. The site where the
Kraków-­Płaszów concentration camp stood is now a nature preserve, so Spielberg
had a replica of the camp built at the abandoned Liban Quarry outside Kraków,
which was also a Nazi l­abor camp during the war. Exterior shots of Schindler’s
enamelware factory, 4 Lipowa Street, in the Zabłocie district of Kraków, ­were filmed
at the ­actual site (which is now a museum). Interior shots ­were filmed at a similar
280 SCHINDLER’S LIST

fa­cil­i­ty in Olkusz, Poland, 25 miles northeast of Kraków. The World Jewish Con-
gress successfully lobbied against any film production at Auschwitz, so Spielberg
had a partial replica of the camp constructed just outside its entrance. In the midst
of the shoot, Spielberg envisioned the epilogue, where 128 survivors pay their
re­spects by placing stones on Schindler’s grave in Jerusalem. The producers had to
scramble to find the Schindlerjuden and fly them in to film the scene.

Plot Summary
German Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson) arrives in Kraków, Poland, aiming to profit
from the war. A Nazi Party member, Schindler pays SS officials ­under the ­table
and secures a large factory to make enamelware. Schindler hires Itzhak Stern (Ben
Kingsley), a local Jewish official with ties to both the black market and the Jewish
business community, to assist him with his finances. For a time, Schindler keeps
up a cordial friendship with the Nazis and basks in his new wealth, embracing
the title of “Herr Direktor” while Stern manages the day-­to-­day operations. Schindler
makes the decision to take on Jewish workers b ­ ecause they are cheaper, and Stern
pushes to hire as many p ­ eople as can be afforded, b­ ecause if they are seen as essen-
tial to the German war effort, they w ­ ill survive the awful fate of the death camps.
SS-­Untersturmführer Amon Göth (Ralph Fiennes) travels to Kraków to manage
the construction of Płaszów concentration camp. A ­ fter the camp is built [December
1942], Göth demands that the Kraków Ghetto be destroyed, a brutal pro­cess
involving widespread killing [13–14 March 1943]. Schindler witnesses ­these crimes
against humanity and is appalled. He is specifically moved by a young child wearing
a red coat (Oliwia Dabrowska) whom he notices as the Nazis are rounding ­people
up and then recognizes ­later (identifiable by the red coat) on a cart piled high with
corpses. To continue to enjoy SS support for his business, Schindler carefully main-
tains his friendship with Göth—­even though he is quite aware that Göth is a
moral monster who constantly degrades his Jewish maid, Helen Hirsch (Embeth
Davidtz), and shoots Jewish camp inmates from the lofty balcony of his h ­ ouse. As
the terrors of the war increase, Schindler abandons his goal of becoming rich for
the more pressing need to save as many lives as he can. To allow his workers as
much protection and safety as pos­si­ble, Schindler bribes Göth and convinces him
to allow Schindler to create a subcamp. The Germans lose ground in the war, and
Göth is told that all remaining Jews at Płaszów must be transferred to the Aus-
chwitz concentration camp. Schindler, not wanting to turn over his workers to
Auschwitz, proposes instead that he relocate his employees to his new munitions
factory being constructed in Zwittau-­Brinnlitz, 210 miles to the west. Göth allows
Schindler to proceed a­ fter a sizeable bribe. Schindler works with Stern to com-
pose “Schindler’s List”: a register of approximately 850 p ­ eople who w ­ ill travel to
Brinnlitz and be spared the horrors of Auschwitz. When the train transporting the
­women and ­children on Schindler’s List is mistakenly sent to Auschwitz-­Birkenau,
the ­women are let into a cavernous shower room, where they fear for their lives.
For a moment, they do not know if they are ­going to be showered with w ­ ater or
asphyxiated by poison gas; fortunately, ­water is delivered. Schindler offers a bribe
to Rudolf Höss, the commandant of Auschwitz, and secures their release. Once
settled in the new factory, Schindler stops SS guards from entering the factory floor
SCHINDLER’S LIST 281

and supports the Jews in observing their Sabbath. Over the course of the next seven
months, Schindler uses his wealth to bribe Nazi officials and purchase shell cas-
ings from outside businesses in order to ensure that his own factory does not
contribute to the Nazi war effort. Schindler runs through his entire fortune in
May 1945, just as Germany surrenders. As a registered member of the Nazi Party
and war profiteer, Schindler is forced to run from the Red Army. The SS soldiers
guarding Schindler’s factory are tasked with exterminating the Jewish workforce,
but Schindler appeals to their humanity and persuades them to keep the workers
alive. He then bids farewell to his employees and prepares to head west, with the
aim of surrendering to the Americans. The factory employees pres­ent Schindler
with a signed statement confirming his part in saving Jewish lives during the Holo-
caust and give him a ring engraved with a Talmudic quotation: “Whoever saves
one life saves the world entire.” When the workers awaken the next morning, a
Soviet soldier arrives and tells them that they are ­free. Stunned, the Jewish fac-
tory workers leave their place of refuge and move to a nearby town. Final scenes
depict Göth’s execution [13 September 1946] and summarize Schindler’s remain-
ing years a­ fter the war. An epilogue shows Schindler’s a­ ctual workers, side by
side with the actors who portrayed them, placing stones on Schindler’s grave—­a
Jewish act of reverence for the dead. In the final shot, Neeson places a pair of
roses on the grave.

Reception
As befitting its cultural status as a major cinematic statement on the Holocaust,
Schindler’s List had four successive North American premieres: one in Washington,
D.C., on 30 November 1993, another in New York City on 1 December; a third
in Los Angeles on 9 December; and a fourth in Toronto on 15 December 1993.
Theater openings w ­ ere gradually ramped up in the United States, peaking in the
film’s 14th week t­ oward the end of March 1994, with its widest release in 1,389
theaters and highest weekly gross $8.2 million (18–24 March 1994). Ultimately,
Schindler’s List remained in American theaters for eight months. By the time it
closed out on 28 July  1994, the film had grossed $96 million in the United
States. The foreign total amounted to $225 million, for a ­grand total of $321 mil-
lion, versus a modest $23 million production bud­get. Given its exceedingly grim
subject ­matter, Spielberg feared the movie would flop, but it turned out to be a major
box office success. Schindler’s List also earned a dozen Oscar nominations and won
seven Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director (Spielberg’s first Oscar), Best Screenplay,
Best Cinematography, Best Editing, Best Original Score, and Best Art Direction. It
also won four Golden Globes, nine BAFTAs, and numerous other international film
awards. Reviews w ­ ere almost uniformly approving in the highest terms, and other
film directors—­Robert Altman, Billy Wilder, Roman Polanski—­lavished praise on
Spielberg publicly and privately. ­There ­were, however, some dissenting opinions.
His thunder stolen by Spielberg, a disgruntled Stanley Kubrick was forced to aban-
don his own Holocaust proj­ect. When scriptwriter Frederic Raphael suggested that
Schindler’s List was a fine repre­sen­ta­tion of the Holocaust, Kubrick retorted, “Think
that’s about the Holocaust? That was about success, ­wasn’t it? The Holocaust is about
6 million ­people who get killed. Schindler’s List is about 600 [sic] who ­don’t” (Raphael,
282 SCHINDLER’S LIST

1999, p. 67). No less an authority on Holocaust cinema than Claude Lanzmann


(Shoah) voiced a similar view: “­There is this building of bridges now. Very strange.
A film like Schindler’s List builds bridges. It is an absolute distortion of historical
truth, despite the fact that the story of Oskar Schindler is true. It is not what hap-
pened to the vast majority of Jews. The truth is extermination. Death wins” (quoted
in Fisher, 1999).

Reel History Versus Real History


Published 11 years a­ fter Schindler’s List, David M. Crowe’s authoritative biography,
Oskar Schindler: The Untold Account of His Life, War­time Activities, and the True Story
­Behind the List provides a revisionist portrait that reveals some fairly serious inac-
curacies perpetrated by the film. The movie paints Schindler as nothing more than
a hedonistic carpetbagger when he arrives in Kraków, but Crowe fills out the back-
story, noting that Schindler was actually a spy for the Abwehr (German military
intelligence) in the late 1930s who compromised Czechoslovak security in advance
of the Nazi occupation and was sent to prison as a result. Schindler was also the
de facto head of a unit that mapped out the Nazi invasion of Poland. Crowe points
out that t­here was no “Schindler’s List”; in an interview, Crowe observed that
“Schindler had almost nothing to do with the list” ­because he was in jail for brib-
ing Amon Göth, the brutal SS commandant played by Ralph Fiennes in the film
when the list was composed. Crowe contends that the legend of “the list” partly
originates with Schindler himself to embellish his heroism when he was trying to
win reparations for his war­time losses (Smith, 2004). Schindler’s man­ag­er, Itzhak
Stern (Ben Kingsley), was not even working for Schindler at the time. Furthermore,
­there was not one list but actually nine of them. The first four ­were drawn up pri-
marily by a Jewish clerk named Marcel Goldberg. A corrupt assistant to the SS
officer in charge of transporting Jews, Goldberg took bribes of diamonds from
wealthier Jews to get their names put on the list. Crowe notes that Schindler sug-
gested a few names but did not even know most of the ­people on the lists. The
authors of the other five lists are unknown. Crowe also dismissed some scenes in
the book and film as my­thol­ogy. For example, the film shows Schindler ­horse­back
riding with his mistress on Kraków’s Lasota Hill in March 1943. From that van-
tage point, Schindler watches the clearing of the ghetto and sees the ­little girl in
the red coat, aimless and alone, seeking shelter. He l­ater observes her corpse on a
wagon. Crowe calls the scene “totally fictitious,” noting that it would have been
impossible to see that part of the ghetto from the hill. The girl in the red coat is, in
fact, based on a real person—­Gittel “Genia” Chill (1939–1943), a four-­year-­old Jew-
ish girl murdered during the liquidation of the Kraków Ghetto—­but Schindler
never saw her that day. Crowe contends that Schindler’s moral transformation was
more gradual; even before the ghetto was cleared he was appalled by the Nazi mis-
treatment of the Jews. Another scene, fabricated for its devastating emotional
impact, is the Auschwitz shower scene. Holocaust survivor Ernest S. Lobet notes:
“Oskar Schindler’s Jews almost certainly did not arrive at the Auschwitz-­Birkenau
gas chambers, and Edith Wertheim, whom you quote, is mistaken if she thinks
the shower room in which she found herself on arrival was the gas chamber. Such
SERGEANT YORK 283

a ­mistake is understandable, since none of us who arrived at Auschwitz and sur-


vived the initial se­lection at the ‘ramp’ knew where we ­were or knew that death by
gassing was the Nazi method for bringing about the ‘final solution’ ” (Lobet, 1994).
With regard to Emilie Schindler (1907–2001), the film portrays her as an aggrieved
and frequently cheated-­upon spouse—­which she most certainly was—­but gives her
humanitarian work on behalf of the Schindlerjuden short shrift. According to
her 1996 memoir, Where Light and Shadow Meet, she was very much involved
with her husband in aiding his Jewish workers in the last two years of the war.
None of the foregoing cancels out Oskar Schindler’s heroic acts in saving hundreds
of Jewish lives but does suggest that Spielberg and his screenwriters could have
taken greater risks and hewed closer to the admittedly incredible historical real­ity
by letting Schindler be more fully himself.

SERGEANT YORK (1941)

Synopsis
Sergeant York is a biopic about the life of Alvin C. York, one of the most-­decorated
American soldiers of World War I. Co-­produced and directed by Howard Hawks
and starring Gary Cooper as Alvin York, the film recounts York’s initial reluctance
to serve in the military on religious grounds, his ac­cep­tance of his duty, his Medal
of Honor–­ w inning actions in
combat, and his public recogni-
tion afterwards.

Background
Alvin Cullum York (1887–1964),
a poor, unlettered farmer from
rural Tennessee, was one of the
most decorated American soldiers
to serve in the First World War.
On 8 October  1918, during
the  Meuse-­A rgonne Offensive,
York (a corporal in Com­ pany
G, 328th  Infantry Regiment,
167th  Infantry Brigade of the
82nd Infantry Division) led seven
other soldiers in an attack on
German positions near Chatel-­
Chehery, France, taking out 35
machine guns, killing at least 25
enemy soldiers, and capturing
­ Medal of Honor winner Sergeant Alvin C. York
another 132. York’s stunning dis- (Gary Cooper) surveys the battlefield in Howard
play of marksmanship, courage, Hawks’s popu­lar biopic, Sergeant York (1941).
and resourcefulness ­under fire (Warner Bros./Photofest)
284 SERGEANT YORK

earned him a promotion to sergeant, the Medal of Honor, France’s Croix de Guerre,
and many other military decorations. His combat exploits also made him a cele-
brated national folk hero. A ­ fter the war, York’s business advisor hired New York
author Sam K. Cowan to write a biography: Sergeant York and His P ­ eople (1922).
York also cooperated with Gallipoli veteran Tom Skeyhill, who essentially wrote
York’s “autobiography” based on interviews: Sergeant York: His Own Life Story
and War Diary. Over a 20-­year period starting in 1919, Hollywood producer
Jesse L. Lasky begged York to sell the film rights to his life story, but York drew the
line on a movie; films w ­ ere literally against his religion (he belonged to Churches
of Christ in Christian Union, a strict Evangelical sect). In the late 1930s altered
circumstances prompted York to change his mind. He needed money to finance
a planned Bible school. Moreover, war had broken out in Eu­rope again, igniting a
fierce national debate between interventionists (the minority position York
favored) and isolationists (the popu­lar “Amer­i­ca First” stance advocated by another
national hero and Medal of Honor winner, pro-­German aviator Charles A. Lind-
bergh). Worried about the threat of fascism and hoping that a cinematic rendering
of his WWI military ser­v ice would help bolster interventionist sentiment, York
fi­nally agreed to sell Lasky the movie rights in March 1940. The studio tested Pat
O’Brien and Ronald Reagan to play Alvin York but Lasky and York had always
envisioned Gary Cooper as Alvin York. Cooper initially refused the role but York
made a personal appeal to him, and Cooper signed on in September 1940. Lasky
struck a production deal with Hal B. Wallis at Warner Bros., William Keighley was
assigned to direct (­later replaced by Howard Hawks), and studio head Jack War-
ner arranged to borrow Cooper from Samuel Goldwyn of MGM. To play York’s
wife, Gracie, Lasky wanted Jane Russell, a sexy 19-­year-­old ingénue, but York
insisted the part go to a nonsmoking teetotaler. The studio tested Helen Wood,
Linda Hayes, and Suzanne Carnahan but ultimately hired Joan Leslie, a
­wholesome 15-­year-­old—24 years younger than her male co-­star (the real Grace
Williams York was 13 years younger than her husband). Working closely with the
filmmakers, Alvin York demanded that they adhere to high standards of accuracy.
Accordingly, the screenwriters—­Abem Finkel, Harry Chandlee, Howard Koch,
and John Huston—­relied on the books by Cowan and Skeyhill to fashion a true-­to-­
life screenplay. They did, however, add the usual sorts of Hollywood embellish-
ments to enliven the narrative (e.g., modeling York’s religious conversion on
St. Paul’s sudden illumination when it was actually a gradual pro­cess prompted by
his wife, Grace). Eugene P. Walters was hired as military technical director and Wil-
liam Yetter, a former sergeant major in the Imperial German Army, advised the film-
makers on the German military. The film’s working title was The Amazing Life of
Sergeant York, and the proj­ect was bud­geted at $2 million.

Production
Sergeant York was mostly shot on Stages 6, 9, 16, and 24 at Warner Bros. Studios in
Burbank. On Stage 16 (the biggest in North Amer­i­ca, 98 feet tall and providing
32,000 square feet of production area) a set was built to represent a section of the
Tennessee Valley at Three Forks of the Wolf, where Alvin York was born. It fea-
tured a 40-­foot mock Appalachian mountain made of wood, plaster, rock, and soil
SERGEANT YORK 285

and included 121 live trees and a 200-­foot stream mounted on a ­giant turntable to
allow for 16 basic camera a­ ngles. For the combat scenes, 300 workers u ­ nder the
supervision of Art Director John Hughes spent three weeks turning an 80-­acre site
at Warner Ranch in Calabasas, 20 miles west of Burbank, into a facsimile of the
war-­torn battlefield at Chatel-­Chehery. They used five tons of dynamite to blast
shell craters, installed 400 denuded tree trunks and stumps, and used 5,200 gallons
of paint to blacken them. Other ­battle scenes ­were filmed in the Simi Hills and the
Santa Susana Mountains (Toplin, 1996, pp. 82–101 and “Sergeant York (1941),” n.d.).
Principal photography on Sergeant York ran 13 weeks (3 February–1 May 1941).

Plot Summary
Alvin York (Gary Cooper), a hardscrabble farm boy from backwoods Tennessee, is
an expert marksman but also a wastrel fond of drinking and fighting, to the cha-
grin of his long-­suffering ­mother (Margaret Wycherly). One day York meets Gra-
cie Williams (Joan Leslie), is smitten, and works night and day to accumulate the
payment for a coveted “bottomland” (i.e., good soil) farm so ­she’ll marry him.
The land’s owner makes a verbal agreement with York, giving him an option on
the land, on the condition that he produces the rest of purchase price in 60 days.
When the due date arrives, York wins the amount that he needs during a target-­
shooting contest, but then finds that the land owner has gone against him and
instead sold the land to York’s nemesis, Zeb Andrews (Robert Porterfield). York
turns to drink and plots his revenge for the betrayal he has suffered. As he moves
to assault the man who has swindled him, York is struck by a bolt of lightning
­later in the night. He survives, but he loses both his mule and his gun in the pro­
cess. He enters a local church to find a revival in pro­gress, and then has a religious
experience. The United States enters World War I [6 April 1917], and York soon
receives his draft notice. York attempts to evade the draft by claiming conscien-
tious objection, but his church is not officially recognized so he is forced to report
to Camp Gordon, Chamblee, Georgia, for basic training. His commanding officers
soon realize his superior marksmanship, and York is promoted to corporal and
given the job of r­ ifle range instructor, but York is still against the war and the kill-
ing that comes with it. Major Buxton (Stanley Ridges) attempts to sway York in the
other direction, giving him a history lesson about the long tradition of American
sacrifice. He grants York a leave of absence to think over his options, promising
the corporal a recommendation for exemption due to conscientious objection if he
does not change his mind. While York is fasting and mediating on a mountaintop
with competing texts—an American history book and his Bible—­the wind blows
his Bible open to a famous verse that appears in the gospels of Matthew, Mark,
and Luke: “Render therefore unto Caesar the t­ hings which are Caesar’s; and unto
God the ­things that are God’s.” York chooses to return to his unit, confirming that
he is willing to fight in the war. York’s unit is soon shipped to France, and he takes
part in an assault led during the Meuse-­Argonne Offensive on 8 October 1918.
Facing heavy machine-­gun fire, the unit’s lieutenant tells Sergeant Early (Joe Sawyer)
to get a group of men together and ambush the machine-­g un nests. Casualties
winnow down the detachment, making York the last remaining unwounded non-
commissioned officer, so Early puts him in charge of the squad making the attack.
286 SERGEANT YORK

By stealthy maneuvering, York manages to flank the main e­ nemy trench and picks
off Germans with deadly accurate sniper fire, causing the survivors to surrender.
At gunpoint, York also forces a prisoner (Charles Esmond) to demand the surren-
der of German forces mid-­battle in a dif­fer­ent part of the line. He and his fellow
survivors capture a cohort of 132 German soldiers. York is subsequently awarded
the Medal of Honor and celebrated for his heroism. When Major Buxton questions
why he proceeded in the way that he did, York says that his only goal was to save
the lives of his fellow soldiers. Upon his arrival in New York City, York is feted
with a ticker tape parade and handed a key to the city before being lodged at the
elegant Waldorf-­A storia h
­ otel. Congressman Cordell Hull (Charles Trowbridge)
gives him a tour of the city and informs him that he has lots of offers for endorse-
ment deals totaling $250,000. York mentions the land he wanted to purchase
before the war began, and Hull confirms that he could use the money for the
property. However, York turns away the money, saying that he did his duty during
the war, but was not proud of his actions. York returns to Tennessee and discovers
that his neighbors and fellow residents have bought the land for him and built
him a h­ ouse.

Reception
Sergeant York had its world premiere at the 1,141-­seat Astor Theatre at Broadway
and West 45th Street, New York City, on the Wednesday before the July Fourth
weekend in 1941. Alvin York attended the screening, accompanied by Jesse Lasky
and Hal Wallis and greeted by a Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) band and a Ten-
nessee state del­e­ga­tion headed by Col. George Buxton, York’s former commanding
officer. Gary Cooper also attended. The film went into wide release on 27 Septem-
ber 1941 and did phenomenal box office business; it was the top-­grossing film of
1941 with $16,361,885 in ticket sales ($427 million in 2017 dollars) and was still
in theaters when the Japa­nese attacked Pearl Harbor on 7 December, which fur-
ther boosted ticket sales. Sergeant York also excelled in the awards department,
garnering 11 Acad­emy Award nominations and posting 2 wins: a Best Actor Oscar
for Gary Cooper and a Best Editor Oscar for William Holmes. Con­temporary
reviews w­ ere almost uniformly adulatory.

Reel History Versus Real History


At the insistence of Alvin York, Sergeant York achieved an impressive degree of his-
torical accuracy. The movie does, however, indulge in some truth-­bending and
sheer fabrications. A 39-­year-­old playing a man a de­cade younger, Cooper was three
inches taller than York and did not much resemble him. Nor did he attempt to
replicate York’s somewhat higher voice and thick Southern drawl. Furthermore,
the script indulges in country bumpkin stereotyping that makes Cooper’s Alvin
York more childlike and naïve than he r­ eally was. York was one of 11 c­ hildren but
in the interest of narrative streamlining, the movie depicts only two siblings. Joan
Leslie’s Gracie Williams is far prettier and more spirited than the real Gracie. The
movie does not whitewash York’s youthful propensity for booze and brawling, but
it does elide the fact that Grace Williams’ parents forbade their courting, so they
had to meet in secret. To make its story more palatable to a general audience, the
S L A U G H T E R H O U S E -­F I V E 287

movie also tends to downplay Alvin York’s intense religiosity. Instead, it focuses
on his yeoman-­like efforts to earn money farming and his prowess with a
­r ifle—­Adamic traits that identify York with legendary frontier heroes like Daniel
Boone. As mentioned earlier, the film foreshortens York’s religious conversion and
makes it much more dramatic. Its rendition of York’s other key conversion, from
pacifist to armed combatant, is quite accurate but also highly stylized with its war-
ring voices alternately championing God and State in York’s head, Max Steiner’s
stirring mood ­music and the ethereal beauty of the mountainous landscape suf-
fused in misty light evoked an Edenic Amer­i­ca well worth fighting for. The ­battle
scenes are putatively accurate, though the single-­handed nature of York’s amazing
exploits was challenged by some of his comrades-­in-­arms who felt that their role
in the ­battle was slighted. Fi­nally, the film’s culminating depiction of York being
gifted outright with his dream farm by grateful Tennesseans brushed aside the fact
that the a­ ctual 400-­acre farm was not ­really a “gift.” In 1919 the Nashville Rotary
Club raised money for a $6,250 down payment on a farm that cost $25,000. York
was saddled with an $18,750 mortgage that he c­ ouldn’t afford. He ended up deeply
in debt l­ ater in life—­a somber real­ity that would have undercut the film’s affirma-
tion of the Cincinnatus-­like citizen-­soldier who reluctantly goes off to war, becomes
a hero, returns safely, and is richly rewarded for his efforts: Warner Bros.’ propa-
gandistic message to an American public not e­ ager to fight another war in Europe.

S L A U G H T E R H O U S E -­F I V E ( 1 9 7 2 )

Synopsis
Slaughterhouse-­Five is an American anti-­war/science fiction film based on Kurt Von-
negut’s eponymous 1969 novel. Adapted for the screen by Stephen Geller; directed
by George Roy Hill; and starring Michael Sacks, Ron Leibman, and Valerie Perrine,
the film tells the story of Billy Pilgrim, an American soldier in World War II who is
captured during the B ­ attle of the Bulge. As a prisoner of war (POW) Pilgrim wit-
nesses the aftermath of the Allied firebombing of Dresden. He is ­later abducted by
aliens which c­ auses him to become “unstuck in time,” constantly reliving his World
War II experiences: an apt meta­phor for post-­traumatic stress syndrome.

Background
On 22 December 1944, during the sixth day of the ­Battle of the Bulge, Kurt Von-
negut, Jr., a 22-­year-­old battalion scout with the 423rd Regiment, 106th Infantry
Division, was captured (along with 7,000 other G.I.s) by advancing German forces
and imprisoned at Dresden, Germany. Though Dresden was an open city with no
military installations or air defenses, the Allied High Command deci­ded to fire-
bomb it anyway, presumably as payback for the Nazi bombing of Coventry earlier
in the war. In three separate air raids on 13–14 February 1945 (ironically Shrove
Tuesday and Ash Wednesday), Royal Air Force (RAF) and United States Army Air
Forces (USAAF) bombers dropped more than 700,000 phosphorous bombs on “the
Florence on the Elbe.” The resulting firestorm, reaching temperatures of 3,000° F,
obliterated 1,600 acres in the center of the city and incinerated some 25,000
288 S L A U G H T E R H O U S E -­F I V E

civilians. One of only seven Allied POWs in Dresden to survive the bombing, Von-
negut was assigned to corpse recovery and burial detail. The overwhelming horror
he experienced in Dresden would forever haunt him, indelibly coloring his world-
view and his work as a writer. A ­ fter returning to Dresden on a Guggenheim Fel-
lowship in 1967, Vonnegut wrote Slaughterhouse-­Five, Or The ­C hildren’s Crusade:
A Duty-­Dance with Death, a fatalistic anti-­war novel that blends fact, fiction, and
science fiction in inimitable Vonnegut fashion. Though critically acclaimed, a
National Book Award winner, and a runaway bestseller, Slaughterhouse-­Five was
often banned and condemned, allegedly for its frank language and sexual refer-
ences, but mostly ­because it repudiated the myth of World War II as “The Good
War” by dramatizing an Allied war crime of truly monstrous proportions. In
March 1969, at the height of the Vietnam War, producer Paul Monash purchased
the screen rights for Universal Pictures and was allotted a $3.2 million bud­get to
make the film. Director George Roy Hill, Monash’s partner on Butch Cassidy and
the Sundance Kid (1969), signed on to direct in May 1970. Screenwriter Stephen
Geller (Pretty Poison) was assigned the daunting task of adapting Vonnegut’s com-
plex novel to the screen. Michael Sacks, a 22-­year-­old stage actor, was hired in
March 1971 to play Billy Pilgrim, the hapless main character. Hill also recruited
Miloš Forman’s cinematographer, Miroslav Ondříček, to shoot the picture.

Production
Slaughterhouse-­Five was filmed in the early months of 1971 in the Czech Republic,
in Minnesota, and at Universal Studios in Hollywood. Hill shot most of the film at
Prague’s Barrandov Studios and in the city, which doubled for Dresden, while
Prague’s Praha hlavní nádraží (Main Railway Station) stood in for Dresden’s main
railway station. Billy Pilgrim’s otherworldly home—­a geodesic dome on the myth-
ical planet of Tralfamadore—­was built on a Universal sound stage. Scenes suppos-
edly taking place near Billy’s postwar home in upstate New York ­were actually
filmed at vari­ous locations in the Minneapolis-­St. Paul area. ­Because its plot involved
constant time disjunctive shifts between three disparate settings—­World War II,
postwar suburban Amer­i­ca, and another planet—­Slaughterhouse-­Five hinged on
elaborate cross-­cutting that demanded an expert editor. Fortunately, Hill employed
Dede Allen, widely acknowledged as one of Hollywood’s best.

Plot Summary
In March 1968 a young lady and her husband pull up to a lakefront home in upstate
New York near the (fictional) town of Ilium, looking for her f­ather. In the base-
ment of his home, Billy Pilgrim (Michael Sacks), a balding middle-­aged man, is
typing a letter to his local newspaper, describing his involuntary time travels (i.e.,
being “unstuck in time”). While he is typing his letter, he finds himself back at the
­Battle of the Bulge in Belgium in December 1944: a 22-­year-­old U.S. infantryman,
dressed in motley attire, unarmed, and ­r unning through the snow. He is accosted
by two other American soldiers, Paul Lazzaro (Ron Leibman) and Roland Weary
(Kevin Conway), as an e­ nemy attack is in pro­gress. Briefly, Billy finds himself back
on the planet Tralfamadore in a geodesic dome with Montana Wildhack (Valerie
S L A U G H T E R H O U S E -­F I V E 289

Perrine), a beautiful young porn star. She suspects Billy is time traveling again and
offers him a distracting kiss. Suddenly Billy is back at the B ­ attle of the Bulge. Shortly
thereafter, two German soldiers capture the trio. It is the summer of 1946, at Cape
Cod, Mas­sa­chu­setts. Billy and his overweight bride, Valencia Merble Pilgrim (Sha-
ron Gans), are on their honeymoon. She says she thinks he had girlfriends during
the war but is glad they waited to have sex and that he married her. Back in World
War II Billy, Weary, and Lazzaro, along with many other war captives, are march-
ing through the streets of a war-­torn town. Flirted with by two young prostitutes
while marching, Billy accidentally steps on Weary’s gangrenous feet. This enrages
Lazzaro, who beats Billy for his clumsiness. Suddenly it is the late 1950s and Billy
and his f­amily are dedicating a new optometry office in Ilium. Back in the war,
Billy enters the boxcar, goes to sleep, and finds himself at a Veterans Administra-
tion (VA) hospital in the spring of 1946 being treated for shell shock. His m ­ other
(Lucille Benson) is talking to fellow patient, Elliot Rosewater (Henry Bumstead)
about Billy’s war experiences. Then Billy is back in the boxcar, with Weary blam-
ing him for his death. Lazzaro cradles him in his arms as he dies. Billy finds him-
self back in the VA hospital being given shock treatment. Billy’s train pulls up to a
POW camp somewhere in Germany. Billy is given a blue, fur-­collared overcoat by
German soldiers as a joke. The men are pro­cessed by a German officer and then
led into a shower room to be deloused. Afterwards, Billy finds himself at age eight
(Bob “Tiger” Hemond) at the YMCA, where his ­father throws him into the pool to
­either sink or swim. In WWII Billy and other soldiers are marched to the POW
camp mess hall. The En­glish officer escorting Billy tells him the coat was a joke
but to wear it with pride. Billy is at his new home in Ilium in 1947 playing with
his new puppy, Spot. T ­ here is a party g­ oing on at his h­ ouse, celebrating the birth
of his d
­ aughter, Barbara. Leaving the party, Billy and his dog are by the lake when
he sees a strange beam of light coming ­toward him and then leaving. Next he is
back to the POW camp. Lazzaro threatens Billy for Weary’s death, but a kindly
fellow soldier, Edgar Derby (Eugene Roche), intervenes. It is Billy and Valencia’s
anniversary at their home in the summer of 1964. Billy catches his son in the bath-
room looking at a porn magazine. L ­ ater, Billy looks at the magazine himself and
ogles the centerfold of Montana Wildhack. Back at the POW camp the men are
assigned to Dresden. Billy and his f­amily are watching a soft-­core porn movie on
TV with Montana Wildhack in it. Billy and fellow soldiers are in a boxcar on their
way to Dresden. Circa 1965, Billy and his wife pull up to a cemetery with a police
officer who has caught his now-­delinquent son, Robert (Perry King) vandalizing
tombstones. Billy offers to pay off the officers for the damages. It is February 1968.
Billy and fellow optometrists, including his father-­in-­law, are about to take a char-
tered flight to Montreal for a convention. Billy sees visions of skiers in the crowd
when waving goodbye and tells the pi­lots that the plane is ­going to crash—­which
it does. Back to Dresden, the el­derly German officer tells them of their quarters,
Slaughterhouse-­Five, where they w ­ ill be staying and what to shout in German in
case of emergency. Injured and buried in the snow in the Green Mountains, Billy
is rescued by a group of skiers. A ­ fter hearing that he is alive at a hospital in Ver-
mont, Billy’s wife attempts to rush to his side but in her haste, drives crazily,
290 S L A U G H T E R H O U S E -­F I V E

causing accidents and damaging the exhaust on her own car. Ironically, Billy sur-
vives the plane crash but his wife dies from carbon monoxide poisoning. Billy is
in his room recovering with an arrogant professor/historian for a roommate
named B. C. Rumfoord (John Dehner) complaining to his much-­younger wife
about being stuck in a room with such a weak and worthless man. Rumfoord is
writing about the bombing of Dresden. When Billy says he was t­here, Rumfoord
tells Billy the bombing was justified. At dinner, the night of the bombing, How-
ard W. Campbell, Jr. (Richard Schaal), an American attired in a garish Nazi uni-
form with American flag décor, tries to recruit the POWs for the ­Free American
Corps: an anti-­communist and anti-­Semitic outfit allied with the Germans. As
Derby is denouncing Campbell as a traitor, an air raid siren sounds and the men
are ordered to evacuate to an underground shelter just before Dresden is fire-
bombed. In March  1968, Billy is taken home by his ­daughter Barbara (Holly
Near). She pleads with him to stay with her and her husband but he refuses. He
takes his el­derly dog Spot and shuts the door in her face. The bombing is over, and
the soldiers go up the stairs to inspect the damage. Billy is lying in bed at his
home with Spot when his son Robert (Perry King) comes to visit him. The former
delinquent, now a Green Beret fighting in Vietnam, is home on emergency leave.
Robert is caring, but Billy is distracted. Right a­ fter Robert leaves, the beam of light
he saw in the sky while at the lake in 1947 reappears and takes him away to a
geodesic dome on the planet Tralfamadore. The Tralfamadorian elder tells him he
cannot see them b ­ ecause they live in the fourth dimension and that he cannot
leave the dome. An el­derly German officer (Friedrich von Ledebur) o­ rders Billy
and the other POWs to pro­cess the corpses from the rubble of the bombed city
and to collect their personal remains. He also warns them that looters w ­ ill be
summarily shot. While Billy and the soldiers are collecting the bodies, he is on
Tralfamadore telling the elder about the bombing and how it affected him. The
elder assures that every­thing that happens always has and always w ­ ill happen;
past, pres­ent, and f­ uture are always happening at the same time in their world,
which also gets destroyed and destroys the entire universe ­because of a mishap
with one of their test pi­lots. Porn actress Montana Wildhack has now been added
to the exhibit with Billy, and the Tralfamadorian elder insists that they mate. Billy,
always a gentleman, expresses reluctance but Montana lets him go to bed with
her. Some days ­after the bombing, Derby finds an undamaged Hummel figurine
in the rubble that is an exact replica of one his son once broke—­a joyous find that
gets him immediately shot to death by a firing squad. Billy is back on Tralfama-
dore with Montana in her new wardrobe. They want to have a baby together. It
is back to March 1968 and Billy’s d ­ aughter finds him in his h ­ ouse. When Billy
speaks about Tralfamadore she thinks he has lost his mind. His son-­in-­law sug-
gests that Billy see a psychiatrist. He assures them that the Tralfamadorians do
not see past, pres­ent, and f­uture the way Earthlings do and also reveals to them
dis­appeared porn star Montana Wildhack is his love interest t­ here and that he has
seen his death. An el­derly Billy Pilgrim addresses a crowd in Philadelphia about
Tralfamadore and their lack of concept about time when an el­derly Paul Lazzaro
shoots him dead with a sniper ­r ifle. Billy wakes up to find himself in the ruins
of Dresden in April 1945 with Lazzaro and fellow soldiers attempting to steal a
S O L D I E R O F O R A N G E [ DUT C H : S O L D A AT VA N O R A N J E ] 291

grand­father clock. In the pro­cess the clock topples onto Billy. It turns out the war
in Eu­rope is over. Rus­sian soldiers give Billy a drink to celebrate but he gags on it.
Billy and Montana have a baby on Tralfamadore, with the entire planet celebrating
with applause and an array of fireworks.

Reception
Slaughterhouse-­Five premiered in the United States on 15 March 1972 and was
screened at the 25th Cannes Film Festival in May 1972, where it won the Jury
Prize. The film also won a Hugo Award and Saturn Award, and Michael Sacks was
nominated for a Golden Globe. A hard film to market, it received very limited dis-
tribution and did not do well at the box office. Reviews ­were mixed. Vincent Canby
called Slaughterhouse-­Five “prob­ably the most perfectly cast film in months” but went
on to observe that the “prob­lem with the film, as it was with the novel, is that it’s
­really not outraged or outrageous enough, much like its time-­tripping gimmick”
(Canby, 1972). Conversely, film critic Frank Getlein termed Slaughterhouse-­Five “an
extraordinary movie, a totally successful fusion of grim 20th ­century history and
science fiction fantasy in far outer space.” Unlike Canby, Getlein took the film’s
implicit message seriously: “With [the fire-­bombing of] Dresden, the movie says,
we, the Allies, passed over into Hitlerian vio­lence against the innocent for the sheer
love of vio­lence. Even as they ­were defeated the Nazis won, for they converted us to
their barbaric doctrine of destruction for its own sake, a doctrine we still adhere to”
(Getlein, 1972). Vonnegut himself was thrilled with what the filmmakers had
accomplished: “I love George Roy Hill and Universal Pictures, who made a flawless
translation of my novel Slaughterhouse-­Five to the silver screen . . . ​I drool and cackle
­every time I watch that film, b ­ ecause it is so harmonious with what I felt when I
wrote the book” (Vonnegut, 1972, p. xv).

Reel History Versus Real History


A moral indictment of war’s insanity, Slaughterhouse-­Five never purported to be an
informative historical novel about the 1945 firebombing of Dresden. Vonnegut
broadly based Billy Pilgrim’s experiences on his own war experiences; being cap-
tured during Hitler’s Ardennes offensive and ­later witnessing the terrible aftermath
of the Dresden firebombing as an American POW. The film follows the book quite
closely but omits the book’s first-­person prologue, thus omitting Vonnegut himself
from the narrative. In the novel, the Tralfamadorian response to death and
destruction—­“so it goes”—is repeated 106 times but is never spoken in the film.

S O L D I E R O F O R A N G E [ D U T C H : S O L D A AT VA N
ORANJE] (1977)

Synopsis
Soldier of Orange is a Dutch war film directed and co-­w ritten by Paul Verhoeven,
produced by Rob Houwer, and starring Rutger Hauer and Jeroen Krabbé. Based
on the 1970 autobiography Soldaat van Oranje by Dutch war hero Erik Hazelhoff
Roelfzema, the film is set during the World War II German occupation of the
292 S O L D I E R O F O R A N G E [ DUT C H : S O L D A AT VA N O R A N J E ]

Netherlands and follows the lives of a number of Dutch students who assume dif­
fer­ent roles in the war.

Background
Erik Hazelhoff Roelfzema (1917–2007) was a Dutch writer who became a much
decorated re­sis­tance fighter and Royal Air Force (RAF) pi­lot during World
War II. In 1970 he published Het Hol Van De Ratelslang (The Cave of the Rattlesnake),
a memoir of his war years that was l­ater retitled Soldaat Van Oranje (Soldier of
Orange), denoting Roelfzema’s association with the Dutch royal f­amily (he was
Queen Wilhelmina’s personal assistant). The book became an international
bestseller and cemented Roelfzema’s stature as Netherlands’ greatest hero of the
Second World War. A few years ­later the Dutch filmmaking team of Rob Houwer
(producer), Paul Verhoeven (director-­screenwriter), and Gerard Soeteman (screen-
writer) secured the rights to the book. Verhoeven, Soeteman, and Kees Holierhoek
collaborated on a screen adaptation, and Houwer eventually raised part of a pro-
duction bud­get of 3.5 million guilder ($9.25 million). A then-­unknown Rutger
Hauer was cast as Erik Hazelhoff Roelfzema (called Erik Lanshof in the film). The
real Hazelhoff Roelfzema was on the set as a con­sul­tant, and he and Verhoeven
became lifelong friends. Prince Bernhard, Prince Consort to the Dutch Queen Juli-
ana, and the Inspector General of the Dutch armed forces at the time of the shoot,
became the film’s patron, arranging for military support, temporary road closings,
and other logistical necessities.

Production
Even with full government support, the shoot proved complicated and grueling.
Lots of WWII-­era weapons and 50 period autos ­were procured, 3,000 costumes
and uniforms ­were made for extras, a modern Leopold I tank was disguised to
look like a German Panther tank, and the correct model seaplane was found in
Norway—­but ­after seven weeks in the fall of 1976, the production had to be sus-
pended for five months when it ran out of money. It resumed in the spring of 1977
­after Houwer signed a deal with The Rank Organ­ization and a Dutch tele­v i­sion
com­pany (Excelsior) to provide additional financial support, ­under the condition
that the material also be adapted into a four part mini-­series, which was retitled
For Koningin en Vaderland (For Queen and Fatherland). The second half of the shoot
wrapped up seven weeks l­ater.

Plot Summary
Before the opening credits, the film begins with mock black and white newsreel
footage, narrated in voice-­over, showing the Netherlands’ Queen Wilhelmina
(Andrea Domburg), accompanied by her personal assistant, Erik Lanshof (Rutger
Hauer), arriving home from London shortly ­after the end of World War II. ­After the
newsreel, the film starts in the late 1930s in Leiden, where freshmen university stu-
dents submit to fraternity hazing. Thereafter the film follows the lives of some of
­these six affluent students: Erik Lanshof (Rutger Hauer), Guus LeJeune (Jeroen
Krabbé), Jan Weinberg (Huib Rooymans), and Alex (Derek de Lint). Robby Froost
(Eddy Habbemal) is a friend of Erik, and Esther (Belinda Meuldijk) is Robby’s
S O L D I E R O F O R A N G E [ DUT C H : S O L D A AT VA N O R A N J E ] 293

girlfriend. Some become collaborators; o­ thers join the Dutch Underground. Part of
the story is set in London, where Queen Wilhelmina is living in exile during the
war. Erik and Guus start a friendship, and Guus offers him housing in a private
student dormitory in Leiden. In this h ­ ouse, the students (Erik, Guus, Jacques,
Jan, and Alex) drink and toast their friendships. On 3 September  1939, a BBC
radio broadcast interrupts the students at a tennis match, announcing that the
United Kingdom has declared war on Germany. At first the students take the
news lightly, believing that the Netherlands ­w ill likely remain neutral. Jan (a Jew)
and Alex leave to enlist in the Dutch army. On 10 May 1940, Germany invades
the Netherlands; Erik and Guus attempt to enlist, but they are rejected. Four days
­later, a­ fter the “Rotterdam Blitz,” the Netherlands gives in. Erik and Esther have
an affair. Robby uses a radio transmitter to get in contact with the Dutch re­sis­
tance in London and set Erik up on a plane to join the group. Jan stands up for a
Jewish salesman by fighting some anti-­Semites and finds himself in hot ­water, so
Erik gives his seat on the plane to his friend. Unfortunately, as they are being picked
up, the pair fight with German soldiers and Jan is taken. Erik manages to escape,
and upon meeting Alex at a military parade, discovers that Alex has joined Hitler’s
SS. Eventually, Erik is also imprisoned. Once captured, Jan tells him that an indi-
vidual named Van der Zanden (Guus Hermus) is the traitor in London. The Gestapo
executes Jan at the Waalsdorpervlakte, a desolate spot in “Meijendel” dune area,
The Hague. The Gestapo discovers Robby’s radio and blackmails him to work as a
double agent (his fiancée, Esther, is a Jew). Meanwhile, Erik, having been released
from jail, joins up with Guus and flees to London on the Swiss cargo steamer,
St. Cergue. In London, Erik meets Van der Zanden and discovers that he is not a
traitor but actually head of the Dutch Central Intelligence Ser­v ice. Erik returns to
the Netherlands to retrieve a group of re­sis­tance leaders. However, they find Robby
amidst the group on the beach; the Germans have found the group, but Erik is
unable to warn them about Robby. Meanwhile, en route to the beach, Erik sees
Alex at a party, then eventually leaves the party and escapes to the beach to meet
his fellow re­sis­tance members. When Robby realizes that Erik knows that he is
working for both sides, he fires a signal flare and runs away. While the re­sis­tance
group attempts to make an escape, their leaders are shot and killed. Guus and Erik
flee by jumping into the sea, but only Erik makes it to the British ship and returns
to London. Guus l­ater encounters Robby on the street and kills him. Guus is then
apprehended and killed for his crime. Alex is killed by a hand grenade thrown by
a small Rus­sian child who he mocked and refused to feed earlier in the day. Erik
becomes an RAF pi­lot, flies combat missions over Germany, and then becomes
Dutch Queen Wilhelmina’s assistant. Erik follows the queen back to the Nether-
lands a­ fter the war. The film ends with Erik re­united with Esther, whose hair has
been cropped short as a punishment for her collusion with the Nazis. Erik then
toasts the end of the war with another student, Jacques ten Brinck (Dolf de Vries),
who also managed to make it out alive.

Reception
Soldier of Orange had its world premiere in the Netherlands on 22 September 1977.
Though the film would do well in terms of international box office receipts, it met
294 S TA L A G 1 7

with considerable controversy in its home country. As Johan Swinnen writes, “Many
viewers in the Netherlands saw it [as] an insult to the efficiency of the Re­sis­tance,
the character of the Dutch, and the impact the Dutch made as a ­whole on the out-
come of the War . . . ​[It] also suggests that the Re­sis­tance’s activities ­were ­little more
than diversions to keep the Germans from focusing their entire efforts on the
War.” Swinnen further notes that the film “did not shy away from nudity and
sexuality,” another ele­ment that met with disapproval in some quarters (Mathijs,
2004, p. 147). Released in the United States on 16 August 1979, Soldier of Orange
won the Los Angeles Film Critics Association Award for Best Foreign Film in 1979.
A year ­later it received a Golden Globe nomination for Best Foreign Language Film.
Not personally invested in the history it invoked, American film audiences and
critics tended to regard the film as an engrossing war epic, though not without
some obvious flaws. Janet Maslin’s review is typical: “Soldier of Orange may not
be ­g reat art but it’s a good yarn. And the combined effects of Mr. Verhoeven’s
comfortingly old-­fashioned storytelling and Mr.  Hauer’s unexpectedly brittle
per­for­mance keep it moving at a fast clip.” But Maslin also remarked on the film’s
two main En­glish characters, “an officer (Edward Fox) and his trampy, ridicu­lous
assistant (Susan Penhaligon), are so weirdly caricatured that they may make a
­great comic impression on American viewers” (Maslin, 1979). In a 1999 election
for best Dutch film of the 20th ­century at the Netherlands Film Festival, Soldier of
Orange was voted second greatest, right ­after another Paul Verhoeven film, Turk-
ish Delight (1973).

Reel History Versus Real History


Though names have been changed, Soldier of Orange is a faithful distillation of its
source material. However, in an interview when Black Book, his fourth film about
the Dutch Re­sis­tance, appeared in 2006, Paul Verhoeven admitted that he needed
to embellish the facts of Erik Lanshof’s adventure to make it “more heroic and
patriotic . . . ​A nd ­these events w
­ ere embellished to begin with. Embellishment is
unavoidable when ­you’re turning ­actual events into a film.” Verhoeven and Gerard
Soeteman discovered “darker and shadowy material” about the Re­sis­tance during
their research for Soldier of Orange but suppressed it ­until Black Book, almost 30 years
­later: “That the Dutch underground was marbled with anti-­Semitism, that some
high-­ranking Nazis knew they ­were trapped in a matrix of insanity, that war can
be fun, that liberation can be terrible, that revenge against Nazi collaborators can
unleash new forms of ugliness no less horrific than Nazism itself” (Koehler, n.d.).
As an exercise in conventional heroic storytelling, Soldier of Orange had to avoid
such ambiguities.

S TA L A G 1 7 ( 1 9 5 3 )

Synopsis
Stalag 17 is an American war film produced and directed by Billy Wilder. Adapted
from a Broadway play, starring William Holden and featuring Robert Strauss,
S TA L A G 1 7 295

Neville Brand, Harvey Lembeck, Peter Graves, and Otto Preminger, the film tells
the story of a group of American airmen held in a German World War II prisoner
of war (POW) camp who come to suspect that ­there is an in­for­mant among them.

Background
Sgts. Donald Bevan (1920–2013) and Edmund Trzcinski (1921–1996) ­were two
of the thousands of American airmen shot down over Germany during World
War II. Both men ended up as “Kriegies” (short for Kriegsgefangener, i.e., Ger-
man for POW) at Stalag 17, a POW camp at Krems-­Gneixendorf in Austria.
During their imprisonment Bevan and Trzcinski wrote Stalag 17, a three-­act play
based on their Kriegie experiences that they actually presented at the camp.
Actor-­director José Ferrer put the play on Broadway for a highly successful
year-­long run at the 48th Street Theatre (8 May 1951–21 June 1952; 472 per­for­
mances), produced by Richard Condon and starring John Ericson as Sgt. J. J.
Sefton. Film director Billy Wilder saw the play on Broadway, deci­ded to purchase
the rights for $50,000 of his own money, and hired screenwriter Edwin Blum to
help him adapt it into a film script. In the transition from stage to screen Wilder
and Blum altered the work considerably, making it funnier, adding Oberst von
Scherbach, a cheerfully sadistic camp commandant, and transforming Sefton
from a troubled loner into a selfish, cynical hustler disliked and distrusted by the
other prisoners. The role was originally meant for Charlton Heston but as Sefton
became more dislikeable, Heston bowed out. Kirk Douglas was offered the part
but turned it down, to his lasting regret. Wilder’s third choice, William Holden,
reluctantly took on the role. Four actors from the Broadway play—­Robert Straus,
Harvey Lembeck, Robert Shawley, and William Pierson—­were hired to reprise
their roles in the movie version, and director Otto Preminger signed on to play
von Scherbach. Extras allegedly included 14 former POWs, 7 of whom had been
interned at Stalag 17, among them co-­playwright Edmund Trzcinski, who was
given a small speaking part.

Production
­After a week of rehearsals, exterior scenes w ­ ere shot during the first two weeks of
February 1952 at a realistic seven-­acre replica of the camp built at the John H. Show
Ranch in present-­day Woodland Hills, 20 miles northwest of Hollywood, an elab-
orate set complete with rows of prisoners’ huts, guard towers, high fences topped
with barbed wire, and an administration building. Thereafter, all the interior shots
­were filmed in a simulated barrack room on a Paramount sound stage. Wilder shot
the film in sequence and kept the identity of the undercover German in­for­mant
secret from most of the cast u
­ ntil the end, in order to elicit more au­then­tic per­for­
mances. He also chose not to open up the scenario beyond the confines of the
camp. As he told an interviewer, “I wanted the audience to experience the con-
finement of the prisoners and therefore shot no scenes outside of the prison com-
pound” (Horton, 2001, p. 106). The 47-­day shoot wrapped on 29 March 1952 and
ended up costing $1.66 million—­about 21 ­percent over the projected bud­get,
money l­ater recouped through brisk ticket sales.
296 S TA L A G 1 7

Plot Summary
Voice-­over narration by Sgt. Clarence Harvey “Cookie” Cook (Gil Stratton, Jr.) sets
the scene. It is the week before Christmas 1944 in the small American compound
of a Luftwaffe POW camp near the Danube that holds about 630 gunners, radio-
men, and flight engineers—­all sergeants—­from shot-­down United States Army Air
Forces (USAAF) bombers. As Manfredi (Michael Moore) and Johnson (Peter Bald-
win) attempt to escape through a hidden tunnel, Sgt. J. J. Sefton (William Holden)
bets the other 72 inmates of Baracke 4 a large quantity of cigarettes that the two
escapees w ­ on’t make it out of the forest. Sefton wins his bet; the pair is shot by
waiting guards. The other prisoners conclude that an in­for­mant in their midst must
have tipped off the Germans. Suspicion naturally falls on Sefton, an enterprising
grifter who eschews all escape attempts as futile while devising vari­ous schemes
to hustle his fellow Kriegies and bartering openly with the German guards for bet-
ter food and other creature comforts. ­After von Scherbach displays the bodies of
Manfredi and Johnson to the assembled POWs as an object lesson, routine daily
life at the camp is depicted in a series of vignettes. Baracke 4 guard, Feldwebel
Johann Sebastian Schulz (Sig Ruman), confiscates a clandestine radio in another
success for the “stoolie.” Sgt. Stanislaus “Animal” Kuzawa (Robert Straus) is obsessed
with Betty Grable and becomes despondent when he hears that Grable and Harry

U.S. Army Air Force POWs Sgt. Stanislaus “Animal” Kuzawa (Robert Strauss, left),
­Sgt. J. J. Sefton (William Holden, m
­ iddle), and Sgt. Harry Shapiro (Harvey Lembeck,
right) peer through the barbed wire of their World War II prison camp in Billy Wilder’s
Stalag 17 (1953). (Paramount Home Video/Photofest)
S TA L A G 1 7 297

James, a musician, have wed. Harry “Sugar Lips” Shapiro (Harvey Lembeck) gets
several letters in the mail, and when Kuzawa notices the professional financial let-
terhead, Harry tells his friends that t­ hey’ve repossessed his car. Sefton pays off the
guards in order to sneak into the Rus­sian w ­ omen’s barracks, but his fellow prisoners
speculate that his temporary release is a reward for giving information to the
German authorities. When he returns, Sefton discovers that his barrack mates have
searched his footlocker. They accuse him of being a spy when Oberst von Scherbach
(Otto Preminger) shows up and has Lt. James Schuyler Dunbar (Don Taylor)
removed (Dunbar had told his fellow POWs that he had destroyed a German train
containing ammunition—­a secret the barrack spy has relayed to von Scherbach).
The men in Baracke 4 are convinced that Sefton betrayed Dunbar, so they beat
him severely. The next morning, the day before Christmas, the Red Cross delivers
packages to the American compound while Sefton, alone in the barrack recover-
ing from his beating, tries unsuccessfully to bribe Schulz to get him to release the
name of the real spy. In the midst of a fake air attack, Sefton stays in the empty
barracks and hears the security head, Sgt. Frank Price (Peter Graves), speaking with
Schulz in German and describing how Dunbar was able to blow up the train. Sef-
ton ponders his next move. If he tells the other POWs about Price, then the Ger-
mans ­w ill relocate him to another camp, putting o­ thers at risk. If he kills Price, he
could put the entire camp in danger of execution. On Christmas Day, the men hear
that the SS is set to relocate Dunbar to Berlin for what they assume w ­ ill be extended
interrogation-­torture sessions. They use a diversion to ­free Dunbar and hide him
elsewhere in the camp. Despite strenuous efforts, the Germans cannot locate Dun-
bar. Von Scherbach says that the camp w ­ ill be destroyed, along with the p ­ eople in
it, if Dunbar ­isn’t turned in, so the men decide that one of them must remove their
comrade from harm’s way. Price says that he w ­ ill do it, but Sefton accuses him of
being the spy. As a test, Sefton asks, “When was Pearl Harbor?” Price knows the
date, but Sefton swiftly follows up, asking at what time he heard about the attack.
Immediately, and without fully considering his answer, Price says that he heard at
6 o­ ’clock p.m., while eating dinner. This ­mistake unmasks him: 6 ­o’clock was the
proper time in Berlin, but not in Cleveland, Ohio, where Price is supposed to hail
from. Sefton searches Price’s pockets and finds a hollow chess piece that Price was
using to send secret messages to his German unit (messaging them using a light
bulb cord). Sefton opts to guide Dunbar out of the camp, anticipating a hefty reward
from Dunbar’s ­family for his role in the escape. Sefton and Dunbar escape out of
a ­water tower above the latrines, while the other men punish Price by using him
as a diversion: he is thrown into the yard with cans tied to his legs. The alerted
tower guards fix Price in their searchlights and open fire. Despite his protesta-
tions, he is quickly shot dead. Amidst the chaos, Sefton and Dunbar make it out.
A pleased Cookie whistles “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.”

Reception
Stalag 17 opened in the United States on 6 June 1953 and proved to be a major box
office success, earning $10 million. It was an even bigger hit in Eu­rope. The movie
also received Acad­emy Award nominations for Best Director, Best Supporting Actor
298 S TA L A G 1 7

(Robert Strauss), and Best Actor. William Holden won for Best Actor—an award
widely thought to compensate for his not having won an Oscar for his brilliant
rendition of Joe Gillis, the doomed gigolo in Wilder’s noir classic, Sunset Boulevard
(1951). Reviews ­were adulatory, and many de­cades ­later, the film continues to be
held in high esteem—­though ­there are dissenting opinions, such as Mike Mayo’s:
“Billy Wilder’s highly honored adaptation . . . ​­really does not live up to its reputa-
tion. It’s less a realistic look at life inside a German prison camp than an improbable
suspense tale that depends on some clumsy contrivances. Worse yet, the moments
of comic relief are appalling.” Mayo also astutely notes that “Stalag 17 is ­really more
a Cold War film than a World War II film. Its questions about in­for­mants, loyalty,
and the tyranny of the group over the individual are concerns of the 1950s, not the
1940s” (quoted in Nixon and Stafford, n.d.). Unfortunately, Stalag 17 also inspired
the execrable TV 1960s comedy series, Hogan’s Heroes.

Reel History Versus Real History


In the movie, the overall look of the American compound is quite au­then­tic, but
the sign over its entrance reads “Stalag 17-­D.” The real camp was designated Stalag
XVII-­B (short for Stammlager Luft, or prison camp for airmen, and the Germans
used Roman numerals). The camp’s a­ ctual commandant was Oberst Kuhn, a Weh-
rmacht officer—­not Luftwaffe—­who was e­ very bit as tough as his fictional coun-
terpart, von Scherbach. The bare, muddy ground conditions shown in the film are
inauthentic. ­There was snow on the ground in Krems, Austria, in December 1943
and it was extremely cold—­weather not convincingly replicated in balmy southern
California in the spring of 1952. Indeed, one would expect to see the men exhale
breath vapors outdoors in the freezing air, but none appear in the film. Living
conditions at the real Stalag 17, exacerbated by severe overcrowding, w ­ ere far
more difficult than ­those shown in the film; prisoners ­were often beaten by brutal
guards and a few w ­ ere shot and killed, while complaints to the commandant fell
on deaf ears. The prisoners did build a radio but it was never confiscated. The
Germans did not plant spies in POW camps, as depicted in the movie. The Price
character was likely inspired by a mysterious inmate—­not a German “mole” but
rather much the opposite: Dr. Reuben Rabinovitch (1909–1965), a Jewish Canadian
re­sis­tance fighter who was given the cover identity of Staff Sgt. Harry Vosic,
USAAF, to keep him out of the gas chambers. The action in Stalag 17 is entirely
fictional but it is based on at least one real incident. Frank Grey (aka “The Grey
Ghost,” 1915–2006), a U.S. Eighth Air Force B-17 tail gunner, pulled off the only
escape from Stalag 17-­B in January 1945. Temporarily at the camp on his way to
the Gestapo for repeated escapes and acts of sabotage, Sgt. Grey was hidden by
comrades in a tunnel as soon as he entered the compound. ­After a fruitless three-­
day search by camp guards and the Gestapo, the Germans became convinced
he had escaped. Grey then resurfaced, made it into the adjoining Rus­sian POW
compound, escaped from ­there, and ultimately reached Yugo­slavia, where anti-­Nazi
partisans assisted him in getting back to ­England. It was Grey’s seventh escape. On
a previous escape, Grey sabotaged a German freight train headed to the Rus­sian
front by disabling anti-­aircraft guns and equipment on a flatcar. Grey’s daring
S TA L I N G R A D 299

exploits obviously inspired the movie’s Lt. Dunbar character, who also sabotaged a
German train (albeit in a highly unlikely manner), is hidden at Stalag 17 to protect
him from the Gestapo, and then escapes with Sefton’s help. Frank Grey’s incredible
saga is recounted by fellow Kriegie Ned Handy in his memoir, The Flame Keepers.

S TA L I N G R A D ( 1 9 9 3 )

Synopsis
Sta­lin­grad is a German war film directed by Joseph Vilsmaier. Starring Thomas
Kretschmann as Lt. Hans von Witzland, the movie follows a platoon of World War II
Wehrmacht soldiers from Italy in the summer of 1942 as they are transferred to
the German Sixth Army, which finds itself surrounded and besieged by the Red
Army during the fateful B­ attle of Sta­lin­grad during the winter of 1942–1943.

Background
The ­Battle of Sta­lin­grad (23 August 1942–2 February 1943) was one of the largest
(nearly 2.2 million personnel involved) and bloodiest b ­ attles ever fought. A
­ fter 13
weeks of street-­to-­street combat in the fall of 1942, the Germans had taken most
of the city—­reduced to rubble from aerial bombardment and shelling—­but they
had neglected to shore up their weak flanks to the north and south. On 19 November
1942 the Rus­sians launched Operation Uranus, a surprise massive counterattack
on t­hose flanks that quickly surrounded and ultimately destroyed the German
Sixth Army in a g­ iant pincer movement. Total Axis casualties (Germans, Roma-
nians, Italians, and Hungarians) are believed to have been more than 250,000 dead,
450,000 wounded, and 91,000 captured—­a devastating defeat that essentially
sealed the doom of Hitler’s Third Reich. Over the ensuing de­cades a number of
documentary and fiction films, German and Rus­sian, have been made about this
decisive WWII b ­ attle, but the best of them remains Joseph Vilsmaier’s Sta­lin­grad.
The film originates with Christoph Fromm, a young German screenwriter who
wrote a screenplay (c.1990) based on extensive research, including numerous inter-
views, that places fictive characters in the 336th Pioneer Battalion, 336th Infantry
Division, a real unit that fought at Sta­lin­g rad. Producers Günter Rohrbach and
Hanno Huth acquired Fromm’s script and hired director Joseph Vilsmaier to turn
it into a movie for Bavaria Film. Vilsmaier and co-­w riters Jürgen Büscher and
Johannes Heide retained Fromm’s characters and basic narrative structure, but
extensively reworked the material, making it less a documentary and more of “a
movie with feelings,” as Vilsmaier l­ater put it—so much so that Fromm took his
name off the proj­ect and l­ater published his version as a novel (Stalingrad—­Die Ein-
samkeit vor dem Sterben [Stalingrad—­The Loneliness Before ­Dying]).

Production
In order to show the declining health and weight loss of its main protagonists, Sta­
lin­grad was shot in sequence between October 1991 and April 1992. The opening
moments ­were filmed on location in Cervo, Liguria, Italy, while the Sta­lin­g rad
300 S TA L I N G R A D

scenes ­were shot in Prague and in Kurivody, Ceská Lípa District of Czecho­slo­va­
kia (now the Czech Republic), and in Kajaani and Kemijärvi, Finland. Additional
interiors ­were shot on sets at Bavaria Studios, Geiselgasteig, Germany. ­There was
no filming at Sta­lin­grad itself (now Volgograd); destroyed during the Nazi siege,
the city was completely rebuilt a­ fter the war so t­here w ­ ere no period buildings.
Vilsmaier’s production team made ­every effort to ensure authenticity; they found
9,000 original World War II uniforms, period weapons, and a number of World
War II–­era Soviet tanks that w ­ ere still operational. In addition to the 40 actors
with speaking roles, the movie employed a production team of 180 technicians,
12,000 extras (mostly Czechs and Germans), and 100 stunt persons. Vilsmaier
also combed a veterans’ hospital near Prague for extras missing arms and legs.
The world’s largest snowmaking machine was used during the filming of the
winter scenes, some of which w ­ ere shot in the dead of winter with temperatures
as low as −22° F (−30° C). The production bud­get was an estimated 20 million
Deutschemarks ($13.2 million).

Plot Summary
In August 1942, ­after the First ­Battle of El Alamein (1–27 July 1942) ends in a stale-
mate, German soldiers who fought with Rommel’s Afrika Korps enjoy leave in
Cervo, Liguria, Italy. At an assembly of the battalion, some of the men are awarded
the Allgemeines Sturmabzeichen [General Assault Badge], including Unteroffizier
[Sgt.] Manfred “Rollo” Rohleder (Jochen Nickel) and Obergefreiter [Se­nior Lance-­
corporal] Fritz Reiser (Dominique Horwitz). Both men meet Lieutenant Hans von
Witzland (Thomas Kretschmann), a platoon commander on his first leadership
posting, and the squadron travels by train to participate in the B ­ attle of Sta­lin­grad.
Witzland’s unit links up with a group led by Hauptmann [Captain] Hermann Musk
(Karel Heřmánek), who takes them on an attack of a factory building, resulting in
a large number of deaths and injuries. During a ceasefire, the unit retrieves their
injured soldiers and manages to take a prisoner: Kolya (Pavel Mang), a young
Rus­sian boy. However, Rus­sian forces swarm the next day, and the boy escapes.
Without a working radio, von Witzland, Reiser, Rollo, Emigholtz (Heinz Emigholz),
“GeGe” Müller (Sebastian Rudolph), and Wölk (Zdenek Vencl) take to the sewers
to find their way back to the German front. Witzland is soon on his own, having
lost his unit underground, but is able to capture a Rus­sian soldier named Irina
(Dana Vávrová), who lures him into a sense of safety by offering to help him, but
betrays him by pushing him into the ­water before ­r unning off. Witzland is saved
by his men, but Emigholtz is severely wounded when he unwittingly detonates a
booby trap. His comrades take him to a crowded aid station full of severely wounded
soldiers screaming in agony, and Reiser o­ rders an aid worker to help his friend,
pointing a gun at the orderly. Emigholtz dies, despite their efforts. Hauptmann
Haller (Dieter Okras) captures the men and sets them up in a penal unit forced to
disarm landmines. By late November  1942, a brutally cold winter season has
arrived, and the Soviet forces have outflanked the Germans. Hauptmann Musk
sends the penal unit to the frontline, and Witzland’s squadron has some initial
success defending their position, but Wölk dies in the pro­cess. Witzland, GeGe,
S TA L I N G R A D 301

and Reiser then decide to desert. They steal medical tags from corpses to feign being
wounded and head ­towards Pitomnik Airfield, in the center of the “cauldron”
(pocket), in hopes of catching a medical evacuation plane out of Sta­lin­grad. How-
ever, they arrive too late and watch as the final transport heads out without them
and the airfield is riddled with bullets from the Rus­sian forces. They return to their
unit in a shelter and see that Musk is afflicted by a bad case of trench foot. When
a German plane arrives with supplies, the unit hurries out to secure provisions.
Haller accosts them at gunpoint and is taken down, but he kills GeGe as he hits
the ground. Making a desperate play for his life, Haller tells the men that he has a
stash of supplies hidden at a local ­house, but Otto executes him. The men find the
­house in question full of provisions, but they also find Irina bound to Haller’s bed
as his sex slave. Von Witzland ­frees Irina, and she tells the men that she collabo-
rated with the Germans. The squad help themselves to food and drink, while a
feverish and d ­ ying Musk tries to convince them to fight on. Otto commits suicide
instead. Once Musk dies, Rollo brings his body outside and sees the remaining
members of the German Sixth Army conceding to the Rus­sian forces. Irina, Wit-
zland, and Reiser make their way through the snow to escape, but shots from the
Soviets kill Irina and mortally wound Witzland. The Germans manage to get away.
Witzland eventually succumbs to his wounds and perishes in Reiser’s arms. Rei-
ser holds his dead commander, thinking about North Africa as he eventually freezes
to death.

Reception
Sta­lin­grad premiered in Munich, Germany on 21 January 1993 but was not released
in the United States ­until 24 May 1995, ­after it had already gone to video. Box office
numbers are unknown, but anecdotal information suggests that the movie was not
profitable—­perhaps not surprising, insofar as Sta­lin­grad is one of the bleakest mov-
ies ever made. It did, however, receive mostly positive reviews. Stephen Holden
notes that Sta­lin­grad “has some of the most virtuosic ­battle scenes to be found in a
modern war film” but also observes that the movie “is so determined to show the
horrors of war that [it] d ­ oesn’t devote quite enough time to its major characters”
(Holden, 1995, p. C19). Peter Stack called the film “grimly beautiful” and found
the soldiers depicted as “anything but reverent t­oward their leaders . . . ​Sta­lin­
grad is rough yet fascinating viewing. Delving into the brutal realities of war
with an almost docudrama style, it renders a ­bitter, almost choking sense of the
futility of war through the destruction not only of bodies, but of the h ­ uman
spirit” (Stack, 1995).

Reel History Versus Real History


In its display of uniforms, weapons, and tanks and its visceral rendering of com-
bat in urban and open settings, including severe casualties, atrocities, and the abys-
mal conditions faced by the trapped remnants of the Sixth Army, Sta­lin­grad
achieves a high degree of historical accuracy. Focused at the squad level, the film
is not able to convey or even suggest the enormous scope and complexity of the
­Battle of Sta­lin­grad (a task better left to documentaries).
302 S T E E L H E L M E T, T H E

S T E E L H E L M E T, T H E ( 1 9 5 1 )

Synopsis
The Steel Helmet is an American war film produced, written, and directed by Sam-
uel Fuller. An examination of racial bigotry set during the Korean War, the film is
about U.S. Army Sgt. Zack (Gene Evans), the sole survivor of a prisoner of war
(POW) massacre, who forms a survival pact with a Korean orphan (William Chun).

Background
The Steel Helmet was writer-­producer-­director Sam Fuller’s third movie, the last
installment in a three-­picture deal with in­de­pen­dent producer Robert Lippert (the
first two ­were I Shot Jesse James, 1949, and The Baron of Arizona, 1950). In the sum-
mer of 1950, just a­ fter the outbreak of the Korean War, Fuller wrote The Steel Hel-
met script in a week, setting it in K
­ orea for topicality but largely basing it on his own
WWII war diaries. As he recounts in his autobiography, A Third Face, Fuller was
determined to challenge racial prejudice and bring realism to a film genre rife with
jingoistic clichés: “What­ever the confrontation and wherever it’s happening, the
under­lying story [of war] is one of destruction and hatred. I wanted an opportunity
to show that war was more complex than the front-­page newspaper articles. You
never saw the genuine hardship of soldiers, not ours nor the ­enemy’s, in movies.
The confusion and brutality of war, not phony heroism, needed to be depicted.
The ­people who chanted ‘We are right, they are wrong,’ needed to be debunked”
(Fuller, 2002, p. 256). A major studio expressed interest but wanted John Wayne
to star in the picture—­casting that would have sabotaged Fuller’s vision of what a
realistic war movie should be. Fuller approached Mickey Knox to take the lead role
of Sgt. Zack but Knox turned him down. Eventually Fuller hired a gruff and burly
cigar-­chomping WWII veteran named Gene Evans to play Sgt. Zack, a choice
affirmed by Bob Lippert but overruled during rehearsals by associate producer
William Berke, who tried to fire Evans and replace him with Larry Parks, then
a genuine movie star. It was widely rumored that Parks would be summoned to
testify at upcoming Hollywood House Un-­American Activities Committee (HUAC)
hearings in 1951. Berke cynically reasoned they could now hire Parks on the cheap
and that he would, in Fuller’s words, “be worth a fortune in f­ree publicity when
the s— hit the fan” (Fuller, 2002, p. 258). Fully committed to Evans and genu-
inely sympathetic to Parks’s plight, Fuller refused to hire Parks for purposes of
exploitation. He threatened to boycott his own movie u ­ nless Lippert promised that
­there would be no more tampering with his cast. Lippert agreed and Evans kept
his job. The next day Fuller hung a sign on the sound stage door that read: “NO
ASSOCIATE PRODUCERS, CO-­PRODUCERS, EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS OR
ANY PRODUCERS ADMITTED HEREIN.” Just before filming got underway, Fuller
sought cooperation from the U.S. military by submitting his script to Bernard
Baruch, chief of the newly established Motion Picture Production section of the
Public Affairs Office, Department of Defense (DOD). Baruch’s office initially refused
to cooperate with Fuller on the grounds that The Steel Helmet “contained no
informational value and had a number of objectionable sequences” (Chung, 2006,
S T E E L H E L M E T, T H E 303

p. 125). A
­ fter Fuller submitted a rough cut of the film in November 1950, the DOD
relented and allowed Fuller to use some archival footage.

Production
Using a no-­name cast, a plywood tank, stock combat footage, and 25 UCLA stu-
dents playing both American and North Korean soldiers, Sam Fuller shot The Steel
Helmet in 10 days in October 1950. The abbreviated shoot and a very modest pro-
duction bud­get ($104,000) called for highly efficient filmmaking (i.e., one or two
takes per shot). Interiors (a simulated Buddhist t­emple) w­ ere filmed in a rented
Hollywood studio, while exteriors w ­ ere shot in L.A.’s Griffith Park using direct
sound and natu­ral light. The only major glitch occurred when actor Steve Brodie
required an emergency appendectomy ­after collapsing on the set on 14 October
1950. He returned to the shoot five days l­ater.

Plot Summary
Part of a U.S. Army unit captured, tied up, and then massacred by the North Korean
­People’s Army (NKPA), Sgt. Zack (Gene Evans) survives when an e­ nemy bullet
aimed at his head is deflected by his helmet. A South Korean orphan boy (Wil-
liam Chun) happens upon Zack, f­ rees him of his bonds, and tags along thereafter,
despite Zack’s annoyance. Nicknamed “Short Round” by Zack, the boy challenges
American racial bigotry by insisting that Zack refer to him as South Korean, not as
a “gook.” They soon encounter Cpl. Thompson (James Edwards), an African Amer-
ican medic—­also the sole survivor of his unit—­before merging with a patrol led
by an untested Lt. Driscoll (Steve Brodie). Racial bigotry is again manifest when
the white soldiers express suspicion that the black medic might be a deserter. Soon,
however, race is rendered a moot point when the squad is pinned down by snipers;
Zack and Nisei Sergeant Tanaka (Richard Loo) join forces to neutralize the e­ nemy
snipers. Thereafter, the small unit sets out to establish an observation post at a
Buddhist ­temple, but not before one of their number is killed while inspecting
a booby-­trapped corpse. They reach the t­emple but Joe (Sid Melton) is killed that
night by a North Korean major (Harold Fong) hiding inside. Subsequently cap-
tured, the e­ nemy officer tries but fails to win over Thompson and then Tanaka by
pointing out the racism they face in their own country. Sergeant Zack prepares to
take his prisoner of war (POW) back for interrogation, anticipating the reward of
a furlough. Before he leaves, Lt. Driscoll asks to exchange helmets for luck, but
Zack refuses his request. Short Round is the next to die, killed by another sniper.
­After the NKPA major mocks the wish that the boy had written down (a prayer to
Buddha that Zack ­will like him), Zack flies into a rage and shoots his prisoner. The
unit then spots the North Koreans attacking in force, and Driscoll has Pvt. Baldy
(Richard Monahan) call in artillery support. When the e­ nemy soldiers realize that
artillery is being directed from the ­temple, they attack en masse, supported by a
tank. The Americans repel the assault, but only an obviously shell-­shocked Zack,
Tanaka, Thompson, and Baldy survive. When they are relieved, Zack is asked,
“What outfit are you?” He responds simply but grandly: “U.S. infantry.” As they
leave the t­ emple, Zack goes to Driscoll’s grave and exchanges his helmet with the
304 STORY OF G.I. JOE, THE

one marking the grave. Instead of the standard closing title, “The End,” the film
concludes with “­There is no end to this story,” a somber avowal that the h
­ uman
race is hopelessly addicted to war.

Reception
In Sam Fuller’s words, “all hell broke loose” when The Steel Helmet opened nationally
in January 1951, at the height of the second “Red Scare.” Victor Riesel, a nation-
ally syndicated columnist and a staunch anti-­communist crusader, denounced
the film as pro-­communist and anti-­American. Fuller also noted that “One of the
country’s most reactionary newspapermen, Westford Pedravy [i.e., Westbrook
Pegler] wrote that I was secretly financed by the Reds and should be investigated
thoroughly by the Pentagon” (Fuller, 2002, p. 262). On the far Left, The Daily Worker
characterized Sgt. Zack as a bloodthirsty “beast” and labeled Fuller a “reactionary”
for making him the hero of the movie. For its part, the DOD strenuously objected
to the scene in the movie that has Zack killing a POW, an act of freelance sav-
agery expressly forbidden by the Geneva Convention. Called on the carpet, Fuller
pointed out that he had personally witnessed such war crimes in WWII. Fuller
then phoned General George A. Taylor, his former regimental commander, who
verified the truth of Fuller’s claim. Despite or perhaps b ­ ecause of all the contro-
versy it generated, The Steel Helmet produced phenomenal box office results for a
bare-­bones in­de­pen­dent production: $2 million in receipts—20 times more than
it cost to make.

Reel History Versus Real History


Small-­scaled and localized, The Steel Helmut does not attempt to represent any spe-
cific ­battles or incidents related to the ­actual history of the Korean War, of which
Fuller knew l­ittle beyond con­temporary newspaper accounts. What the film gets
right is more generalized and perennial: American racism and xenophobia (e.g.,
antipathy ­toward nonwhite U.S. soldiers, calling Koreans “gooks”); the fatalistic sto-
icism of the American foot soldier; the gritty, exhausting life of the G.I., a life
marked by filth, boredom, and the occasional experience of abject terror and death
in combat. The superstitious fixation with Zack’s helmet as a lucky talisman and
the death of a soldier killed by a booby-­trapped corpse ­were plot ele­ments derived
from real incidents that Fuller recorded in his WWII diary.

S T O RY O F G . I . J O E , T H E ( 1 9 4 5 )

Synopsis
The Story of G.I. Joe is an American war film directed by William Wellman, star-
ring Burgess Meredith and Robert Mitchum, and based on the newspaper columns
of Pulitzer Prize–­w inning war correspondent Ernie Pyle. The film, a tribute to the
American infantryman (aka “G.I. Joe”) during World War II concentrates on one
unit (C Com­pany, 18th Regiment, 1st Infantry Division) that Pyle accompanies into
combat in Tunisia and Italy.
STORY OF G.I. JOE, THE 305

Background
During World War II Ernie Pyle (1900–1945) was Amer­i­ca’s most famous and
revered war correspondent. His plainspoken dispatches, reporting on the lives of
frontline G.I.s., appeared in hundreds of Scripps-­Howard newspapers six days per
week and w ­ ere eagerly devoured by millions of American readers stateside. In late
October 1943 Henry Holt published ­Here Is Your War, a book derived from Pyle’s
columns that covered “Operation Torch,” the North African Campaign (8 Novem-
ber 1942–13 May 1943), and “Operation Husky,” the campaign in Sicily (9 July–17
August 1943). The book became a bestseller and earned Pyle a Pulitzer Prize.
Months earlier, the U.S. Army’s Public Relations Division contacted in­de­pen­dent
film producer Lester Cowan and tasked him with making a movie that would pay
homage to the ordinary foot soldier. Referred to Ernie Pyle by colleagues, Cowan
read his columns and quickly became convinced that they ­were the source mate-
rial he was looking for. Cowan approached Pyle and persuaded him that ­Here Is
Your War could be turned into a coherent film that would avoid the jingoistic hokum
and sentimentality all too evident in the war film genre at that time (Tobin, 1997).
­After securing the movie rights from Pyle, Cowan hired playwright Arthur Miller
to pen a screen adaptation. In the fall of 1943 Cowan and Miller paid visits to Pyle
at his home in Albuquerque, New Mexico, while he was taking a two-­month
respite from the war. By mid-­November  1943, Cowan had submitted Miller’s
film outline to Col. Falkner Heard of the Army Ground Forces. By March 1944
Miller had the first draft of a script completed. Bereft of fresh ideas, he dropped
out of the proj­ect—­though his script research into military life produced an in­ter­
est­ing nonfiction book entitled Situation Normal (1944). Over the next year and a
half United Artists screenwriters Leopold Atlas, Guy Endore, and Philip Steven-
son took over. With uncredited help from Ben Bengal and Alan Le May, they wrote
a series of revisions, partly to incorporate new material from Pyle’s latest columns as
the war dragged on (­these ­were collected in a second book, Brave Men, published
20 November 1944).

Production
Production began on 13 March 1944 with director Leslie Fenton (replacing Rich-
ard Rosson) helming a location crew and soldiers from the 104th Infantry Divi-
sion as they reenacted the B ­ attle of Kasserine Pass at the California-­A rizona
Maneuver Area (CAMA) in the desert near Yuma, Arizona. By mid-­May produc-
tion had ground to a halt, with Cowan discouraged and his writers flummoxed by
a script that stubbornly refused to cohere. Another major stumbling block: Lester
Cowan could not find an actor to portray Ernie Pyle. He wanted Burgess Meredith
but Meredith was a captain in the U.S. Army and unavailable. Gary Cooper signed
on but then dropped out to join a USO tour. Lester Cowan put Leslie Fenton on
another film proj­ect and, with Ernie Pyle’s help, convinced William Wellman to
sign on as director on 18 September 1944. In the weeks that followed Cowan con-
sidered a number of actors to play Pyle: Fred Astaire, Fred MacMurray, Walter Bren-
nan, and Barry Fitzgerald. He even considered Pittsburgh Pirates radio announcer
“Rosey” Rowswell and Pyle look-­alike John M. Waldeck, a streetcar conductor from
306 STORY OF G.I. JOE, THE

St. Louis, but in the end Cowan came back to his first choice. In late October 1944,
­after much lobbying by Cowan, the Army granted Burgess Meredith permission
to make the film on condition that Cowan turn all profits from it over to Army
Emergency Relief (AER). ­A fter a six-­month hiatus, production resumed on 15
November 1944 and wrapped up six weeks ­later, in mid-­January 1945. The movie
was in post-­production when news arrived that Ernie Pyle had been killed by a
Japa­nese machine-­gun bullet on le Shima, an island near Okinawa on 18 April 1945.

Plot Summary
The new infantrymen of C Com­pany, 18th Infantry, U.S. Army, travel to the front-
lines for the very first time. Lt. Bill Walker (Robert Mitchum) allows a green war
correspondent, Ernie Pyle (Burgess Meredith), to r­ ide with the troops. Ernie shocks
Walker and his unit by following them right to the frontlines. On the way, Ernie
spends time getting to know the squadron: Private Robert “Wingless” Murphy
(John R. Reilly), Private Dondaro (Wally Cassell), Sergeant Warnicki (Freddie
Steele), and Private Mew (William Murphy). The men’s first ­battle is that of Kas-
serine Pass, which ends up being a major defeat with many casualties. Ernie and
the com­pany initially part ways, but further into the year, Ernie looks for them,
having nurtured a fondness for the first outfit that he’d covered as a war­time
reporter. He finds the battalion in Italy, set to stage an assault on a German-­occupied
town. Ernie discovers that Com­pany C is now practiced at killing without mercy
or guilt. The unit soon captures the town and tries to move on to Monte Cassino.
However, their advance is blocked, and they are forced to live in caves. Casualties
are heavy as replacement troops are killed before they can learn how best to sur-
vive (which Walker confesses to Ernie makes him feel like a murderer). As a result,
Walker finds himself short of lieutenants, and the veterans lose men, including
Wingless Murphy. Ernie returns to the correspondents’ quarters to discover that he
has been awarded the Pulitzer Prize for his war reporting. Ernie again reconnects
with the soldiers on their way to Rome. He greets some familiar unit members, but
is shocked when a mule passes by carry­ing the dead body of Capt. Walker. One by
one, the old hands reluctantly come forth to express their grief in the presence of
Walker’s corpse. Ernie joins the com­pany as it goes down the road, narrating its
conclusion: “For ­those beneath the wooden crosses, ­there is nothing we can do,
except perhaps to pause and murmur, ‘Thanks pal, thanks.’ ”

Reception
The Story of G.I. Joe was released on 13 July 1945, 51 days before the end of World
War II. Nominated for four Oscars (Best Actor in a Supporting Role—­Robert Mit-
chum’s only c­ areer nomination; Best Writing, Screenplay; Best M ­ usic, Original
Song; Best ­Music, Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture), G.I. Joe was named
one of the top 10 films of 1945 by the National Board of Review. It was also nomi-
nated for the G ­ rand International Award at the 1947 Venice Film Festival. Film
critics ­were, likewise, enthusiastic. James Agee called the film “an act of heroism”
for its honesty, courage and artistic integrity (Agee, 1945, pp. 264–265). Joseph
Foster praised G.I. Joe’s emphasis on characterization rather than plot: “For a
STORY OF G.I. JOE, THE 307

constant moviegoer exposed to the banalities of the superplotted feature, this pic-
ture is a luxurious experience. For once the soldier is treated as a h ­ uman being,
set apart by special circumstances rather than by oddities of character. T ­ here are
no plot compulsions. The characters do not get pushed around by the demands of
the ste­reo­typed melodrama that usually go u ­ nder the name of ‘war pictures.’
­There is more drama ­here, in the GI easing his pack by the roadside, than in the
loud heroics of a Robert Taylor taking on the ­whole Japa­nese army” (Foster, 1945,
p.  27). Thomas Pryor noted that the movie won high praise from ­actual G.I.s:
“When the men of the Fifth Army, many of whom participated in the picture, saw
The Story of G.I. Joe in Italy, their verdict was ‘This is it.’ Lester Cowan, the pro-
ducer, and all ­those o­ thers who contributed to this magnificent and so richly
deserved tribute to the infantry soldier, could ask for no greater rewards” (New
York Times, Oct. 6, 1945). No less an authority than General Dwight Eisenhower
pronounced The Story of G.I. Joe “the finest war film I have ever seen.”

Reel History Versus Real History


The characters in The Story of G.I. Joe are mostly fictitious, but the episodic events
depicted in the film are based on ­actual experiences documented by Pyle in his
frontline dispatches. Respectful of Ernie Pyle and obligated to the U.S. military for
cooperation and support, Cowan, Wellman, and their screenwriters strove to ensure
that the film achieved the highest level of authenticity pos­si­ble. They even used
150 G.I.s as extras who actually participated in the b ­ attles depicted in the film.
The movie’s final scene, dramatizing the aftermath of Capt. Walker’s death, is based
on Pyle’s most famous and widely reprinted column: “The Death of Captain Was-
kow” (10 January 1944), a poignant piece on Capt. Henry T. Waskow of Belton,
Texas, a beloved com­pany commander in the 36th Division who was killed in Italy
by a German mortar round. In the movie, his men respectfully bid him farewell in
much the same way as Pyle described the a­ ctual incident. Critics generally credit
The Story of G.I. Joe as the most au­then­tic war film of its era.
T
T H E Y ­W E R E E X P E N D A B L E ( 1 9 4 5 )

Synopsis
They ­Were Expendable is an American war film directed by John Ford and starring
Robert Montgomery, John Wayne, and Donna Reed. Based on the 1942 book by
William L. White, the film recounts the exploits of Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron
Three, a PT boat unit defending the Philippines against Japa­nese invasion during
the ­Battle of the Philippines (1941–1942) in World War II.

Background
During World War II the U.S. Navy stationed a motor torpedo boat squadron in
the Philippines from September 1941 to mid-­April 1942. Composed of six boats
commanded by Lt. (­later Vice Admiral) John D. Bulkeley (1911–1996), MTB Squad-
ron 3 participated in the doomed defense of Bataan and Corregidor during the
Japa­nese invasion of the Philippines (8 December 1941–8 May 1942); conducted
the evacuation of General Douglas MacArthur and other high-­ranking officers from
Corregidor to Mindanao (11 March 1942); and destroyed numerous Japa­nese ships
and planes in August 1942, for which Bulkeley was awarded the Medal of Honor.
Covering the exploits of MTB Squadron 3, journalist William L. White extensively
interviewed Bulkeley, Lt. Robert Kelly, and two other PT boat officers. He then
published their first-­person accounts in They ­Were Expendable (1942), a best-
seller condensed in Reader’s Digest and chosen as a Book of the Month Club
se­lection. Collaborating with the U.S. Navy to make a pro-­war effort propaganda
movie, MGM acquired the film rights to They ­Were Expendable in July  1942, a
month a­ fter the decisive U.S. victory at Midway and two months before White’s
book was published. Frank “Spig” Wead, a disabled former U.S. Navy aviator
turned writer, was hired to work on a screen adaptation; producer Sidney Frank-
lin and staff screenwriters Jan Lustig and George Froeschel contributed revisions.
A draft script was completed by April 1943 but d ­ idn’t quite work b­ ecause of the
inherently gloomy nature of the material (only 5 out of the 68 men in the real
squadron made it out of the Philippines alive). Bulkeley and his men w ­ ere
undoubtedly heroic—­good fodder for propaganda—­but they had fought a futile
rearguard action against an e­nemy overwhelmingly more power­ful, ­were ulti-
mately defeated, and w ­ ere nearly wiped out: an implicit acknowl­edgment that the
United States had been woefully unprepared in the Pacific and that its insistence
on defending the Philippines had been an ill-­advised po­liti­cal gesture. Radio jour-
nalist/screenwriter Norman Corwin was then brought in, but also strug­gled to
T H E Y ­W E R E E X P E N D A B L E 309

find a v­ iable narrative approach. In the meantime Jim McGuinness, the MGM
executive put in charge of the proj­ect, sought John Ford to direct the picture but
had a hard time signing him. As head of the photographic unit for the Office of
Strategic Ser­v ices (OSS), Ford was busy filming documentaries for the U.S. Navy
in war zones and had no interest in returning home to shoot a Hollywood war
movie. He changed his mind, however, when he met John Bulkeley, now a U.S.
Navy commander, who had been reassigned to the Atlantic theater of operations
for the D-­Day landings in June 1944. Ford joined Bulkeley on his PT boat as it
patrolled the invasion beachheads and developed a strong rapport with the
Medal of Honor winner. ­A fter spending time with Bulkeley, Ford fi­nally commit-
ted to the They W ­ ere Expendable film proj­ect in October 1944 on the condition
that Frank Wead be rehired to make the final revisions on the script. (Ford’s fee
was set at a rec­ord $200,000 but he ­didn’t want the public thinking he was prof-
iting handsomely from commercial filmmaking during war­time, so he used the
funds to buy land and build Field Photo Farm, a recreation center in San Fer-
nando Valley for the 180 veterans of his Field Photographic Unit.) Also in Octo-
ber, Sidney Franklin signed Robert Montgomery to play John Bulkeley (called
“Brickley” in the movie)—­perfect casting ­because Montgomery had served as a
lieutenant commander in the U.S. Navy on PT boats at Guadalcanal and on a
destroyer at Normandy. In January 1945 John Wayne was hired to play the sup-
porting role, Lt. (J. G.) “Rusty” Ryan (loosely based on the real Lt. Robert Kelly),
and 20-­year-­old starlet Donna Reed was cast as Army nurse Lt. Sandy Davyss,
Wayne’s love interest.

Production
Filming on They ­Were Expendable ran almost four months (23 February to 18
May 1945). Though some studio work was done at Culver City, California, most of
the filming took place in Key Biscayne and the Florida Keys, substituting for the
Philippines. The production was an unusually large one, employing a cast of 140
actors and some 150 technicians. On 17 January 1945, a month before filming
started, workers started construction on sets that re-­created Bataan and Corregi-
dor, work that continued throughout much of the shoot. MGM had always had the
full cooperation of the U.S. Navy, which supplied six real PT boats sent down from
a naval depot in Melville, Rhode Island. Although Ford respected Montgomery’s
naval experience, he was openly contemptuous of John Wayne for staying out of
the war on a 3-­A (­family deferment) exemption to pursue his acting ­career. Ford
badgered Wayne continuously ­until Montgomery fi­n ally intervened on Wayne’s
behalf and got Ford to desist. On Monday, 14 May 1945, near the end of the shoot,
Ford slipped off a camera scaffold and broke his leg, whereupon Robert Montgom-
ery stepped in for the rest of the week and directed the one remaining sequence. He
did such a capable job that Ford ­couldn’t tell the difference between Montgomery’s
scenes and his own (Montgomery went on to direct four noirs and a war movie
between 1947 and 1960). John Wayne also learned directing technique from Ford
and would direct his own epic, The Alamo (1960), with Ford’s assistance. When
shooting wrapped, Ford returned to his Field Photographic Unit in Eu­rope and
310 T H E Y ­W E R E E X P E N D A B L E

left the post-­production work and scoring of They ­Were Expendable to ­others but
­later objected to some of the “heavy m
­ usic” added.

Plot Summary
The film begins with an opening credits prologue: “ ‘­Today the guns are s­ ilent. A
­great tragedy has ended. A g­ reat victory has been won . . . ​I speak for the thou-
sands of ­silent lips, forever stilled among the jungles and in the deep ­waters of the
Pacific which marked the way.’ Douglas MacArthur, General of the Army.” In
December 1941, a squadron of six PT boats ­under the command of Lt. John “Brick”
Brickley (Robert Montgomery) is ordered to Manila to defend the Philippines against
Japa­nese attack. The do not receive a warm welcome. One of Brick’s officers, Lt. J. G.
“Rusty” Ryan (John Wayne), is incensed that his superiors refuse to see the small,
fast boats as effective naval craft and is in the pro­cess of transferring when news
arrives of the Japa­nese attack on Pearl Harbor. Ryan and Brickley demand real com-
bat assignments for their PT boat squadron but are frustratingly relegated to mes-
senger duties. All that changes, at least temporarily, when the Japa­nese launch a
surprise attack with warplanes the day a­ fter Pearl Harbor and Brickley’s squadron
is hastily sent into combat to retaliate. A­ fter the crisis, they are again relegated to
messenger duty, once again infuriating Ryan. Eventually, top echelon command-
ers recognize that the PT boats are effective and utilize them against larger Japa­
nese ships. Brick’s boats manage to sink the Japa­nese cruiser and go on to score
more victories but also sustain mounting losses they can ill afford. The squadron
is sent to evacuate General Douglas MacArthur, his ­family, and other persons of
high rank. Afterwards, Brickley and his men resume their forays against the Japa­
nese and continue to lose precious boats. As PT boats are destroyed, their crew
members are reassigned to infantry duty. At last, the final boat is given to the Army
for use as a messenger boat. Brickley, Ryan, and two ensigns are airlifted out on
the last plane. The remaining enlisted men, led by Chief “Boats” Mulcahey (Ward
Bond), stay b ­ ehind to continue the fight.

Reception
They ­Were Expendable had its premiere on 19 December 1945 in Washington, D.C.,
four months and four days a­ fter the end of the Second World War—­too late to serve
its original purpose as war­time patriotic propaganda. Reviews tended to be highly
positive, though ­there was grumbling about the leisurely pace and sheer length of
the film, which came in at 2 hours and 15 minutes. Bosley Crowther wrote,
“Mr. Ford, and apparently his scriptwriter, Frank Wead, have a deep and true regard
for men who stick to their business for no other purpose than to do their jobs. To
hold on with dignity and courage, to improvise when resources fail and to face the
inevitable without flinching—­those are the ­things which they have shown us how
men do. Mr. Ford has made another picture which, in spirit, recalls his Lost Patrol. It
is nostalgic, warm with sentiment and full of fight in ­every foot” (Crowther, 1945).
James Agee thought it “John Ford’s finest movie” (Agee, 1946). They ­Were Expend-
able earned two Oscar nominations (for Best Sound and Best Special Effects), but
THIN RED LINE, THE 311

box office returns ­were predictably mediocre for a postwar release: $3.2 million
for a picture that cost at least $2.5 million to make.

Reel History Versus Real History


Closely following William White’s book, They ­Were Expendable achieves a high
degree of historical accuracy. Still, it goes awry in at least three areas: 1) its depic-
tion of General MacArthur; 2) its portrayal of Rusty Ryan, the character represent-
ing Robert Kelly; and 3) its inclusion of a romance subplot. An unabashed admirer
of Douglas MacArthur, John Ford re-­created the arrival of “The General” (played
by Robert Barrat) on board Brickley’s PT boat for transit from Corregidor to Min-
danao as a kind of super-­patriotic Second Coming in reverse, underscored by an
off-­screen orchestra playing “The ­Battle Hymn of the Republic” and punctuated
by a series of reaction-­shot cutaways of American soldiers and sailors in rapturous
admiration. The scene is so excessively fawning that some critics wrongly detected
an air of mockery. In the real world, MacArthur was not much admired by U.S.
rank-­and-­file troops, who thought him an incompetent, imperious blowhard who
lost the Philippines through a lack of preparedness. They sarcastically nicknamed
him “Dugout Doug” for assiduously looking ­after his own safety during and ­after
the fall of the Philippines while his troops died in droves. (MacArthur, against Army
regulations, also accepted a $500,000 payoff from President Manuel Quezon of the
Philippines in February 1942). John Wayne’s real-­life counterpart, Robert B. Kelly
(1913–1989), sued MGM for libel for depicting him as a moody, undisciplined hot-
head and was awarded $3,000. Donna Reed’s real-­life counterpart, Beulah “Peggy”
Greenwalt Walcher (1911–1993), also sued, contending that the film’s portrayal of
her in a fictitious extramarital romance damaged her reputation and was an inva-
sion of privacy. A federal court jury in Missouri agreed and awarded her $290,000 in
1948.

THIN RED LINE, THE (1998)

Synopsis
The Thin Red Line is an American war epic written and directed by Terrence Malick.
Based on the eponymous novel by James Jones, the film is a semi-­fictionalized
account of the B ­ attle of Mount Austen during of the Guadalcanal Campaign
of World War II. It stars Sean Penn, Jim Caviezel, Nick Nolte, and Elias Koteas
as soldiers of C Com­pany, 1st Battalion, 27th Infantry Regiment, 25th Infantry
Division.

Background
James Jones, the author of From H ­ ere to Eternity (1952), earned a Purple Heart in
combat on Guadalcanal: a lonely, soul-­searing experience he transmogrified into
his fourth novel, The Thin Red Line (1962). ­Virginia Kirkus called the book a “well-­
drawn ­battle narrative [that] provides take-­off points for dozens of character
312 THIN RED LINE, THE

studies, and the author describes emotional responses to b ­ attle, fear, death,
homo­sexuality, along with detached, ironic comments on army organ­ization and
the workings of fate, luck and circumstance” (Kirkus, 1962). The Thin Red Line was
first made into a film in 1964, directed by Andrew Marton and starring Keir Dullea
and Jack Warden, a simplified adaptation that still managed to evoke some of
the disturbing power of the original work. Flash forward to 1988. Well respected
for two distinctively beautiful films—­Badlands (1973) and Days of Heaven
(1978)—­director Terrence Malick h ­ adn’t made a movie in 10 years when producers
Robert Geisler and John Roberdeau offered him funding to undertake a new proj­
ect. Malick suggested e­ ither an adaptation of Molière’s Tartuffe or of Jones’s The
Thin Red Line. The producers chose The Thin Red Line and acquired the rights from
the author’s ­w idow, Gloria Jones. Malick laboriously developed his script, complet-
ing a first draft in May 1989. As Peter Biskind notes, “Malick ultimately fashioned
a remarkable script, infused with his own sensibility. But he had made some ques-
tionable choices. He retained several of Jones’s more conventional situations, but
dropped some in­ter­est­ing ele­ments, including the suggestion of a homoerotic
undertow among some of the characters. L ­ ater, he changed Stein, a Jewish cap-
tain, to Staros, an officer of Greek extraction, thereby gutting Jones’s indictment of
anti-­Semitism in the military, which the novelist had observed close-up in his own
com­pany” (Biskind, 1999). Geisler and Roberdeau formed an alliance with Phoe-
nix Pictures, a production com­pany started by Malick’s former agent, Mike Meda-
voy, in 1995, and a financing deal was struck with Sony Pictures. ­After scouting
locations in Panama and Costa Rica, Malick chose the rainforests of northern Aus-
tralia, and crews began building sets in Queensland when the movie hit a major
roadblock when Sony’s new studio head, John Calley, cancelled funding, forcing
Malick and Medavoy to pitch the proj­ect to other studios. Fox 2000 Pictures agreed
to supply $39 million—­the lion’s share of the budget—­stipulating that Malick cast
five movie stars from a list of ten provided. Pioneer Films, a Japa­nese com­pany,
contributed $8 million and Phoenix added another $3 million. Other sources
brought the total up to the original $52 million. Malick, a former Rhodes Scholar
who had studied philosophy at Oxford with Gilbert Ryle, was held in high esteem
by actors as a ce­re­bral, visionary director, so he had no trou­ble attracting the best
talent in the business for his new film. Many A-­list actors, including Brad Pitt, Al
Pacino, Gary Oldman, Leonardo DiCaprio, Johnny Depp, Nicolas Cage, Bruce Wil-
lis, Edward Burns, Matthew McConaughey, William Baldwin, Neil Patrick Harris,
Josh Hartnett, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Stephen Dorff, offered to work for a
fraction of their usual fee. As a result of the heavy traffic in interested parties, cast-
ing took a full year. None of ­these actors ­were cast, but ­those who ­were (noted ­later)
­were of equal caliber. ­Others who ­were cast—­Bill Pullman, Lukas Haas, Mickey
Rourke, John C. Reilly—­had their parts eliminated or radically pared down. Adrien
Brody saw his part, Cpl. Geoffrey Fife, gutted. Fife had been the lead protagonist
in Jones’ novel and in Malick’s 198-­page screenplay but ended up a mere cameo,
with two spoken lines and about five minutes of screen time, so that Jim Caviezel’s
role could be vastly expanded. Billy Bob Thornton recorded voice-­over narration
THIN RED LINE, THE 313

for the entire movie but it was eventually scrapped in ­favor of eight dif­fer­ent
narrators.

Production
Some background footage was shot at Guadalcanal, the ­actual setting for the film,
but the island was malaria ridden and too rugged and remote to sustain a movie
crew, so most of the filming, which involved 250 actors and 200 crew members,
took place in the Daintree Rainforest and on Bramston Beach in Queensland, Aus-
tralia, about 1,000 miles southwest of Guadalcanal, across the Coral Sea. ­After
100 days in Queensland, filming the set piece ­battle for Hill 210, the shoot then
moved to the Solomon Islands for the next 24 days for the filming of jungle scenes.
The last three days of filming took place on the Pacific Ocean near Santa Catalina
Island (about 20 miles southwest of Long Beach, California). A mercurial director,
Malick often confused his actors, who ­couldn’t figure out what he was ­after in a
par­tic­u­lar scene, or with the film as a ­whole. Co-­producers Geisler and Roberdeau,
who had spent years nurturing the proj­ect, had it worse; Malick banned them from
the production so he could operate without supervision or interference. The five-­
month shoot wrapped at the end of October 1997. Post-­production took another
13 months. By early March 1998, editor Leslie Jones had fashioned a five-­hour
rough cut from cinematographer John Toll’s voluminous footage. Further cutting
by Malick’s trusted editor, Billy Weber, rendered a film three and a half hours long.
With Sean Penn’s assistance, Malick spent another three months cutting an addi-
tional 45 minutes, with the final cut coming in at a still-­epic 170 minutes. Veteran
composer Hans Zimmer did the film score.

Plot Summary
U.S. Army Private Witt (Jim Caviezel) has gone absent without leave (AWOL) and
lives with the natives of the South Pacific. He is eventually located and locked up
on a vessel by First Sergeant Welsh (Sean Penn) of his com­pany. The soldiers of
C-­for-­Charlie Com­pany, 1st Battalion, 27th Infantry Regiment, 25th Infantry Divi-
sion, have been transported to Guadalcanal as backup in the effort to capture
Henderson Field and take the island from the Japa­nese. Below decks of the Navy
transport, they warily anticipate the upcoming invasion. Topside, aging battalion
commander Lt. Col. Gordon Tall (Nick Nolte) converses with his younger supe-
rior officer, Brig. Gen. Quintard (John Travolta), about the invasion and its impor-
tance for his own c­ areer. Soon thereafter, Charlie Com­pany lands unopposed on
Guadalcanal and moves inland, only encountering natives and evidence of the Japa­
nese presence. They soon arrive at their objective: Hill 210, where a well-­concealed
bunker at the top of the hill, bristling with machine guns, commands the
approaches. At dawn the next day, ­after a brief and ineffectual American artillery
barrage, Charlie Com­pany attempts to capture the hill, covered in tall wind-­blown
grass, but is repelled by concentrated, accurate gunfire. Among the first killed is
one of the platoon leaders, 2nd Lt. Whyte (Jared Leto). During the ­battle, a squad
led by Sergeant Keck (Woody Harrelson) hunkers down ­behind a low ridge, safe
314 THIN RED LINE, THE

from ­enemy fire to wait for reinforcements. Keck reaches for a grenade but acci-
dentally pulls the pin and blows himself up. Lt. Col. Tall radios the com­pany com-
mander, Capt. James “Bugger” Staros (Elias Koteas), and ­orders him to take the
bunker by frontal assault, what­ever the cost. Staros refuses. A ­ fter a tense radio
exchange involving threats of disciplinary action, Tall decides to join Staros on the
frontline to assess the situation. Pvt. Witt, having been assigned punitively as a
stretcher ­bearer, asks permission to rejoin the com­pany, and permission is granted.
On Tall’s ­orders a small detachment is sent on a reconnaissance mission to deter-
mine the strength of the Japa­nese bunker. Pvt. Bell (Ben Chaplin) reports back t­ here
are five machine guns in the bunker. He then joins another small squad (including
Witt), led by Capt. John Gaff (John Cusack), on a flanking mission to take the bun-
ker. Gaff’s men are able to get in close and take out the bunker and neighboring
spider holes, killing most of the Japa­nese defenders without taking any casualties.
Soon, Charlie Com­pany takes over one of the final Japa­nese forts on the island. The
Japa­nese soldiers who they encounter are poorly fed and fighting death, so they do
not resist. The men are granted a week’s leave, but the airfield comes ­under attack.
The com­pany is instead sent on a mission up a river with the inexperienced 1st Lt.
George Band (Paul Gleeson) leading the way. As the Japa­nese fire near their loca-
tion, Band sends some men, including Witt, upriver to scout out the situation. The
scouts are met with a group of Japa­nese soldiers attacking and try to draw them
away from their unit. Corporal Fife runs back to tell the unit, and Witt sacrifices
himself to make sure that his unit is able to retreat. Witt is ­later buried near the
riverbank by Welsh and his squad mates. C-­for-­Charlie Com­pany receives a new
commander, Capt. Charles Bosche (George Clooney), boards a waiting LCT (tank
landing craft), and departs the island.

Reception
The Thin Red Line was shown in a limited release (five theaters) at Christmas 1998
and grossed $282,534 that weekend. The movie went into wide release on 15 Jan-
uary 1999 (1,528 theaters) and grossed $9.7 million during its opening weekend.
It ultimately earned $98.1 million in worldwide box office receipts. The Thin Red
Line received numerous accolades, including seven Oscar nominations, six Satel-
lite Awards from the International Press Acad­emy, and a Golden Bear at the Berlin
Film Festival. John Toll’s cinematography was singled out for a number of film crit-
ics’ awards. Reviews ­were mixed but mostly positive. On their TV review show, Sis-
kel & Ebert at the Movies, Gene Siskel called The Thin Red Line the “finest con­temporary
war film I’ve seen, supplanting Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan from earlier
this year, or even Oliver Stone’s Platoon from 1986. Malick . . . ​h as an almost-­
unmatched eye for the landscape and for storytelling through pictures” (2 January
1999). Roger Ebert was slightly less enthused. On the air he noted that Thin Red
Line’s rambling philosophical musings in voice-­over too much resembled simi-
lar  musings in Malick’s Days of Heaven from 20  years earlier. In his newspaper
review, he wrote, “The movie’s schizo­phre­nia keeps it from greatness (this film has
no firm idea of what it is about), but ­doesn’t make it bad. It is, in fact, sort of fas-
cinating” (Ebert, 1999). The critical consensus was that The Thin Red Line contains
THIRTY SECONDS OVER TOKYO 315

scenes of extraordinary beauty and power, but the film as a ­whole d ­ oesn’t quite
cohere into a meaningful statement about war, real­ity, or ­human nature. Traditional
war movie buffs dislike the movie, finding it too diffuse, ultimately ponderous and
pretentious.

Reel History Versus Real History


James Jones’ novel provides a semi-­fictionalized account of the ­Battle of Mount
Austen, the Galloping Horse, and the Sea Horse (15 December 1942–23 January
1943), a series of American assaults on hills at the northeastern end of Guadal-
canal in the closing days of the campaign. Mounted by several U.S. Army and
Marine regiments (part of a total American force of 50,000), ­these attacks pushed
10,000 defeated, starving, and disease-­r idden e­ nemy soldiers—­the last remnants
of Japan’s invasion force—­toward Cape Esperance, where they w ­ ere evacuated by
Japa­nese destroyers in early February 1943. The taking of Hill 210 in Malick’s
film is therefore synecdotal for what was actually a much larger, bloodier, and
complex ­battle. The combat action in the film is suitably realistic, as is the film’s
depiction of the condition of the Japa­nese troops, but what’s missing is any larger
sense of situational context. As historian Kenneth Jackson points out, the “viewer
learns too l­ittle about Guadalcanal, e­ ither as personal experience or as g­ rand
strategy. Why was that tiny island impor­tant? Why was the fighting on Guadal-
canal dif­fer­ent from most other Pacific campaigns? . . . ​[Nor] does Malick give us
the kind of texture from the novel that would reveal the combat infantryman’s
perspective. For example, we learn nothing of taking souvenirs or gold teeth
from dead and ­dying ­enemy soldiers, of trading such trinkets for whiskey from
the Air Corps personnel in rear areas, of homo­sexuality in the shared darkness
of a tent, of the ranking of wounds according to how far back from the front each
type of disability would take a person, of the constant strug­gle for promotion and
position within the com­pany, and most especially of the kind of loyalty for small
units and for each other that would help explain to the viewer why so many per-
sons put their own lives at risk to help fallen comrades. All of ­those issues ­were
at the core of Jones’s book.” Jackson further observes that The Thin Red Line prob­
ably does not even render nature the way that soldiers experienced it: “Malick
gives us . . . ​paradise, replete with lush green mountains, tropical waterfalls,
and glorious beaches . . . ​In fact, American ser­v icemen regarded Guadalcanal as
a tropical hell. Ninety-­t wo miles long and thirty-­t wo miles wide, it was mostly
dense jungle, infested with ferocious ants, poisonous snakes, and malarial mosqui-
toes, not to mention lizards, crocodiles, spiders, leeches, and scorpions” ( Jackson,
1999).

THIRTY SECONDS OVER TOKYO (1944)

Synopsis
Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo is an American war film produced by Sam Zimbalist,
written by Dalton Trumbo, and directed by Mervyn LeRoy. It is based on the true
316 THIRTY SECONDS OVER TOKYO

story of the Doolittle Raid, the U.S. retaliatory airstrike against Japan four months
­after the Japa­nese attack on Pearl Harbor.

Background
On the morning of 18 April 1942 16 B-25B Mitchell twin-­engine medium bomb-
ers ­were launched from the aircraft carrier USS Hornet (CV-8) about 650 nautical
miles off the east coast of Japan. Commanded by Lt. Col. James H. “Jimmy” Doo-
little, the planes set off on a top secret mission to bomb targets in Tokyo and other
Japa­nese cities in order to (1) retaliate for the Japa­nese attack on Pearl Harbor four
and a half months prior, (2) boost American morale, and (3) demonstrate that Japan
was vulnerable to air attack. The plan was to land the bombers in China ­after the
raid; landing them on an aircraft carrier was impossible. Unfortunately, the planes
had to launch 170 miles farther out than was originally planned when the task
force was spotted by a Japa­nese patrol boat. ­After bombing their targets in Japan,
all 16 B-25s ran out of fuel well short of their recovery airfields in China and ­either
crashed on land or ditched at sea. Of the 80 airmen deployed (5 to a plane), 3 ­were
killed in action and 8 taken prisoner by the Japa­nese (of which 3 w ­ ere executed,
1 died in captivity, and the other 4 eventually repatriated). With e­ very bomber
lost and damage inflicted on Japan minimal and easily repaired, the Doolittle Raid
was, for all practical purposes, an abject and costly failure. It was, however, a
resounding propaganda success that lifted American morale when news of the
raid was splashed across Amer­i­ca’s newspapers on 19 May 1942. In January 1943,
one of Doolittle’s pi­lots, Capt. Ted Lawson—­who lost a leg in the raid—­began to
write a book about the mission entitled Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo with the help of
newspaper columnist Bob Considine. Lawson and Considine spent four nights
and two days at the Mayflower H ­ otel in Washington, D.C., sketching out the story
but ­were not allowed to publish it u ­ ntil a­ fter detailed information on the raid was
released by the War Department on 19 April 1943, a full year ­after it occurred. The
book-­length story was first serialized in six successive issues of Collier’s magazine
(22 May–26 June  1943). In early July Metro-­G oldwyn-­M ayer producer Sam
Zimbalist secured the movie rights from Lawson and assigned Dalton Trumbo
to adapt Lawson’s story to the screen. ­After meeting with Lawson and other mili-
tary officials in Washington, D.C., Trumbo came to the conclusion that the raid
had been staged for propaganda purposes only. Accordingly, he fashioned a pro-
pagandistic script that emphasized the skill and heroism of the bomber crews
and the heroic role that Chinese guerillas played in rescuing their American
allies from the clutches of the Japa­nese, the latter point meant to refute the
notion pushed by the Hearst newspapers: that the conflict in the Pacific was at
base an Oriental-­Occidental race war (Ceplair and Trumbo, 2014).

Production
The filmmakers received the full cooperation of the U.S. Navy and U.S. Army Air
Forces (USAAF) and worked closely with Air Force chief Henry H. “Hap” Arnold,
Jimmy Doolittle, Ted Lawson, and other airmen who participated in the raid to
achieve a high degree of authenticity. Location shooting took place at Mines Field
THIRTY SECONDS OVER TOKYO 317

in Los Angeles, at Mills Field in San Francisco, at the Alameda Naval Air Station
near San Francisco, at Hurlburt Field (near Mary Esther, Florida), and at Eglin
Field (near Valparaiso, Florida), present-­day Eglin AFB, which was the a­ ctual base
where the Doolittle Raiders trained. The filmmakers used USAAF B-25C and -­D
bombers, which ­were quite similar to the B-25B Mitchells used in the raid, fur-
ther ensuring verisimilitude. Auxiliary Field 4 (aka Peel Field) was used for the
short-­distance take-­off practice scenes. With the war still raging, an aircraft car-
rier was unavailable—­t he USS Hornet itself had been sunk in the B ­ attle of the
Santa Cruz Islands on 27 October 1942—­but a mix of realistic studio sets and
archival footage accurately re-­created the USS Hornet scenes. Second-­unit aerial
cinematography featured Los Angeles masquerading as Tokyo and Santa Maria
(between Pismo Beach and Santa Barbara) simulating the coast of China. The
film was shot in sequence between April and June 1944.

Plot Summary
An opening title card reads: “One-­hundred and thirty-­one days ­after December 7,
1941, a handful of young men, who had never dreamed of glory, struck the first
blow at the heart of Japan. This is their true story we tell h ­ ere.” A
­ fter the attack on
Pearl Harbor, the U.S. Army Air Force quickly hatches a plan to retaliate by bomb-
ing Tokyo and four other Japa­nese cities: Yokohama, Yokosuka, Nagoya, and
Kobe. Tapped to lead the mission, Lt. Col. James Doolittle (Spencer Tracy) assem­
bles an all-­volunteer force. Their top-­secret training involves learning to get their
B-25 bombers airborne in the extremely short take-­off distance of 500 feet or less—­
the deck length of an aircraft carrier. ­After depicting the training pro­cess at Eglin
Field, Florida, and Naval Air Station Alameda (San Francisco Bay), the film depicts
the raid and its aftermath. While en route to Japan, a Japa­nese picket boat detects
the Hornet’s task force and reports its location by radio. The boat is sunk, but the
bombers are forced to take off at the outer limit of their fuel range. Nonetheless, they
make it to Japan and drop their bombs. A ­ fter the attack, all but one of the bombers
run out of fuel before reaching their recovery airfields on mainland China, ­either
ditching in the sea or crash-­landing along the coast. Lt. Ted Lawson (Van Johnson)
tries to land his B-25 on a China beach but crashes in the surf in bad weather and
darkness. Seriously injured, Lawson and his crew face a grueling transit back to
American lines, led and aided by Chinese allies. While he is en route, Lawson’s inju-
ries are so severe that the mission’s flight surgeon, Lt. Thomas “Doc” White (Horace
McNally) has to amputate one of his legs. The story ends with Lawson being re­united
with his wife, Ellen (Phyllis Thaxter), in a Washington, D.C., hospital.

Reception
Released on 15 November 1944, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo enjoyed widespread crit-
ical acclaim and did well at the box office, eventually earning $6,247,000  in
domestic and foreign ticket sales against a production bud­get of $2.9 million—­a
$1,382,000 profit, minus promotional expenses. Likewise, reviews w ­ ere effusive.
For example, Bosley Crowther called the movie “a stunning picturization of an epi-
sode crammed with drama and suspense. And so expert are the re-­enacted film
318 3 1 7 T H   P L AT O O N , T H E [ F REN C H : L A 3 1 7 È M E S E C T I O N ]

scenes that it is hard to distinguish them from a few news shots cut in. As a m ­ atter
of fact, all of the production involving planes and technical action is so fine that
the film has the tough and literal quality of an Air Force documentary . . . ​it is cer-
tainly a most stimulating and emotionally satisfying film” (Crowther, 1944).

Reel History Versus Real History


In general terms, the movie version of Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo is a faithful adap-
tation of Lawson’s book, though the film widens its focus and pres­ents a more
evenly paced procedural history that recounts the planning of the raid, the pi­lot
training, the voyage of the Hornet, the raid itself, and its aftermath. Lawson’s under-
standably more subjective account devotes much more time to his ordeal in China
­after crash-­landing and his recovery stateside. Other changes ­were made to con-
form to Hays Code strictures and for propaganda purposes. Trumbo’s script passes
over the extremely risky, even foolhardy, nature of the Doolittle mission that put
half the U.S. Pacific Fleet in jeopardy on a mission of negligible military value.
Accordingly, in the movie, the bomber pi­lots are excited to leave early when the task
force is spotted by a Japa­nese patrol boat. In real­ity, the sighting meant that they
would not have enough fuel to reach their destination airfields in China (i.e., the
raid suddenly became a de facto suicide mission). An early departure also meant
that the raid would have to occur in daylight hours, when the bombers ­were more
vulnerable to being spotted and attacked by Japa­nese anti-­aircraft fire and fight-
ers. The film’s depiction of Lawson’s crash landing is historically accurate, though
his injuries w­ ere actually far worse. Although the movie does pays tribute to the
Chinese for their invaluable help in rendering medical aid to American fliers and
getting them to safety, it completely elides the fact that Japa­nese occupation forces
exacted a terrible retribution, costing a quarter million Chinese lives so that Amer-
icans could enjoy a short-­lived boost in morale.

3 1 7 T H   P L AT O O N , T H E [ F R E N C H : L A 3 1 7 È M E
SECTION] (1965)

Synopsis
During the final days of the First Indochina War in Vietnam in 1954, a French
army platoon isolated b ­ ehind e­ nemy lines tries to rejoin friendly forces farther
south. It is led by an inexperienced, idealistic sous-­lieutenant (played by Jacques
Perrin), assisted by adjutant Willsdorf (Bruno Cremer), a battle-­hardened WWII
veteran of the Werhmacht.

Background
A volunteer cameraman for the French Army’s Cinematographic Ser­v ice during
the First Indochina War, director Pierre Schoendoerffer (1928–2012) was at the
­Battle of Diên Biên Phu (1954) and was captured when it fell to the Viet Minh. ­After
spending four months as a prisoner of war, Schoendoerffer was repatriated to France
and worked as a journalist for Paris Match and other magazines before becoming
3 1 7 T H   P L AT O O N , T H E [ F REN C H : L A 3 1 7 È M E S E C T I O N ] 319

a filmmaker in the late 1950s. In 1963 Schoendoerffer published La 317e section


(The 317th Platoon), a novel inspired by his war ser­v ice in Indochina. Shortly there-
after, he undertook a film version of his book. Explaining his motivation many
years ­later, Schoendoerffer said, “I was ­there with the troops on their long
marches . . . ​I was injured, taken prisoner, and hit the rock bottom of h ­ uman
misery: three-­quarters of my comrades d ­ idn’t come back. They died on the road
[and] in the camps . . . ​I lived through more than most p ­ eople see in a lifetime.
I felt a need to bear witness to that” (Museum of Modern Art, 2010). Schoendoerffer
secured a modest production bud­get from French and Spanish co-­producers
Georges de Beauregard (Paris) and Benito Perojo (Madrid). He also managed to gain
permission from Cambodian authorities to shoot his film in landscapes closely
resembling the ­actual settings in Vietnam, though actually hundreds of miles far-
ther south.

Production
To shoot The 317th Platoon, Schoendoerffer brought together a few actors and a dozen
technicians, including his former his comrade-­in-­arms, Raoul Coutard (1924–2016),
Jean-­Luc Godard’s cinematographer. Cambodian extras w ­ ere hired to comprise the
bulk of the “317th Platoon.” The shoot occurred in 1964, in remote locations in
northeastern Cambodia not far from where the borders of Cambodia, Laos, and
Vietnam converge—­and just a few miles from an American military base in Viet-
nam. Constrained by a low bud­get and influenced by French New Wave stylistics,
Schoendoerffer opted to use guerilla shooting techniques. Every­one camped out
at a forest location many miles from the airstrip where they landed, ate mostly rice,
and shot mostly live ammunition ­because they had only been able to get a limited
supply of blanks into Cambodia. The extreme economy of means imposed an aes-
thetic as well as moral rigor to the film that resulted in a stunning sense of real-
ism. With his small crew in the ­middle of nowhere, Coutard was limited to
bare-­bones essentials: two Éclair Cameflex CM3 35-mm cameras (sometimes hand-
held, sometimes on a tripod, with night shots lit by a single magnesium flare), a
Nagra III NP reel-­to-­reel tape recorder, and a generator to recharge batteries.

Plot Summary
On Tuesday, 4 May 1954, during the First Indo-­China War, the 317th Platoon is
ordered to abandon its isolated post at Luong Ba, on the Vietnam–­L aos border, and
proceed south to join up with another unit at Tao Tsai (a fictional version of Diên
Biên Phu), a key French outpost. The 45-­man 317th Platoon is led by 2nd Lt. Tor-
rens (Jacques Perrin), a young and inexperienced officer who has arrived from
training at Saint-­Cyr, France, only a fortnight earlier. The rest of the unit is com-
posed of two other Frenchmen, Sgt. Roudier (Pierre Fabre) and Cpl. Perrin (Man-
uel Zarzo); an Alsatian ex-­Wehrmacht soldier, Warrant Officer Willsdorf (Bruno
Cremer); a Laotian auxiliary sergeant, Ba Kut (Boramy Tioulong); and 40 other
Laotian regulars. Tao Tsai is 150 kilo­meters (93 miles) to the south, and the long,
dangerous trek involves traversing mountainous jungle terrain; crossing rice pad-
dies, rivers, and ­enemy lines; and dealing with deadly ­enemy ambushes, monsoon
320 3 1 7 T H   P L AT O O N , T H E [ F REN C H : L A 3 1 7 È M E S E C T I O N ]

rains, mud, and dysentery. Though he is smart and well trained, the idealistic
Torrens is inexperienced in guerilla warfare. He often clashes with the tough, prag-
matic Willsdorf, who has been in Vietnam for years and possesses a wealth of
combat experience; he is not shy about challenging Torrens’ decisions in the field.
Willsdorf, who wants to avoid contact with the ­enemy and get to Tao Tsai as soon
as pos­si­ble, emphatically disagrees with Torrens’ decision to mount a surprise attack
on a Viet Minh column. The platoon wins the resulting firefight but now has several
seriously wounded men on its hands. Anxious to get away from the e­ nemy, Wills-
dorf tries to get Torren to leave the wounded ­behind but Torrens refuses. Taking
along the wounded slows down the platoon and soon the e­ nemy is barking at
their heels. The group splits up, with Torren and the wounded ­going one way while
Willsdorf and several Cambodian soldiers try to lead the ­enemy off their trail. Sev-
eral days ­later the two parties meet farther down the trail. Willsdorf has managed to
throw the pursuers off the scent, though he knows it ­w ill not be for long. Torrens
now realizes that Willsdorf was right about the wounded; they have all died, and
the platoon is now two days’ hike ­behind where they should be on the trail. The
group starts out again, only stopping for rest and food and to try and make radio
contact to order a supply drop. The platoon is losing men with e­ very clash they
have with their pursuers. The soldiers fi­nally reach Tao Tsai, only to discover that
it has already fallen to the Viet Minh. They now need to head farther south to the
next base and hope they can outpace the ­enemy. While stopping for a much-­needed
rest on Monday after­noon, 10 May 1954, the platoon is attacked by a large e­ nemy
force. Only five men—­Willsdorf, a badly wounded Torrens, and three Cambodian
troopers—­escape the massacre alive. Torrens o­ rders Willsdorf to leave him b ­ ehind.
Willsdorf complies, hands Torrens a grenade, and fades into the jungle with the
three remaining troopers.

Reception
The 317th Platoon was released in France on 31 March 1965 and was screened at
the 18th Cannes Film Festival three months l­ater, where it shared the prize for
best screenplay with another war film: Ray Rigby’s The Hill (1965). The 317th Pla-
toon opened in a few other Eu­ro­pean countries and film festivals and was shown
on West German TV in 1968. Everywhere it played, the film garnered excellent
reviews. Indeed, British war historian Antony Beevor rates it the best war movie
ever made (Carey, 2009). But the film never had a theatrical screening in the
United States during the time of its initial release, made no money, and was largely
forgotten—­until 45 years l­ater, when La Cinémathèque Française and StudioCa-
nal, with the support of The Franco-­American Cultural Fund, undertook a pains-
taking digital restoration overseen by Schoendoerffer and Coutard, now el­derly men
near the end of their lives.

Reel History Versus Real History


A survivor of the ­Battle of Diên Biên Phu, Pierre Schoendoerffer was intimately
familiar with the look, smell, and feel of combat in Vietnam. With The 317th Pla-
toon Schoendoerffer and his cinematographer, Raoul Coutard, created an utterly
THREE KINGS 321

convincing cinematic repre­sen­ta­tion of the First Indo-­China War that achieves the
highest level of historical authenticity.

THREE KINGS (1999)

Synopsis
Three Kings is an American war film/black comedy written and directed by David O.
Russell from a story idea by John Ridley. The film stars George Clooney, Mark Wahl-
berg, Ice Cube (aka O’Shea Jackson Sr.), and Spike Jonze as four U.S. Army soldiers
on a quest for stolen gold in the midst of the 1991 uprisings in Iraq against Saddam
Hussein following the end of the First Gulf War.

Background
In the annals of Hollywood the creative genesis of Three Kings is unique. In July 1995
John Ridley, an African American stand-up comic turned screenwriter, undertook
an experiment to see how fast he could write and sell a film. He wrote a screen-
play entitled “Spoils of War” in seven days. Eigh­teen days ­later he sold it to War-
ner Bros. In May 1997 filmmaker David O. Russell (Flirting With Disaster) saw a
brief description of Ridley’s script (“Heist set in the Gulf War”) in the Warner Bros.’
script log. Inspired by the concept, Russell spent the next 18 months researching
and writing his own, original script based on the same broad premise (Russell
claims he never read Ridley’s screenplay but the two reached a private agreement,
with Ridley being given a “story by” and co-­producer credit for his idea). ­A fter
securing a $48 million production deal with Warner Bros., Russell sought to cast
the lead role of Archie Gates, which was originally written with Clint Eastwood in
mind. ­After Eastwood passed on it, it was offered to Nicolas Cage, Mel Gibson,
Jack Nicholson, Nick Nolte, and Dustin Hoffman. They all turned it down, where-
upon Russell revised the role as a younger character and reluctantly cast George
Clooney. A star on the hit tele­v i­sion series ER since its inception in 1994, Clooney
was ready to quit TV and transition to film work. He was very much taken with
the Three Kings script and lobbied hard for the role. Russell wrote the part of Con-
rad Vig for film and ­music video director-­producer Spike Jonze, even though he
had never acted in a film before. The rapper Ice Cube (Boyz n the Hood) was cast as
Chief Elgin, Mark Wahlberg (The Basketball Diaries) as Troy Barlow, and Saturday
Night Live alumna, Nora Dunn, as Adriana Cruz.

Production
The opening scene of Three Kings was filmed on a dry lake bed outside Mexicali,
Mexico, but most of the film was shot in Arizona, near the abandoned Sacaton Cop-
per Mine, about six miles northwest of Casa Grande, between Tucson and Phoenix,
where toxic mining chemicals had wiped out all vegetation. Facsimile Iraqi villages
­were constructed on a high plateau composed of tailings left over a­ fter the extrac-
tion of the mineral ore. Many of the extras w
­ ere played by a­ ctual Iraqi refugees, all
of whom ­were recruited from the Iraqi community in Dearborn, Michigan (called
322 THREE KINGS

“The Arab Capital of North Amer­i­ca”). The shoot proved to be an unusually rocky
one. Still filming episodes of ER in Los Angeles three days a week, an increasingly
exhausted Clooney was working on the shoot in the Arizona desert the other four
days. For his part, Russell was ­under enormous pressure, shooting his first big-­
budget Hollywood film—­a nerve-­w racking challenge that made him irritable
and petulant, especially t­ oward extras and crew members. Clooney came to loathe
Russell, whom he would ­later describe as “vulnerable and selfish,” and the two
began to clash verbally. Eventually the on-­set tension erupted into a fistfight. Wit-
nessing the altercation, a disgusted Paul Bernard (assistant director) walked off
the set, never to return. The conflict was kept ­under wraps at the time but word
of it l­ater surfaced in the October 2003 issue of Vanity Fair in a cover story on
Clooney.

Plot Summary
In March 1991, following the end of the Persian Gulf War, U.S. soldiers are sent
over for mop-up operations. They throw rowdy parties out of boredom—­a result
of inaction. Maj. Archie Gates (George Clooney), a U.S. Army Special Forces sol-
dier, swaps sex for stories with a news journalist, Cathy Daitch (Judy Greer). While
pro­cessing a captured Iraqi officer, U.S. Army Reserve Sergeant First Class Troy
Barlow (Mark Wahlberg) and his best friend, Pfc. Conrad Vig (Spike Jonze), find a
hidden map on the captive’s person. Troy consults with Staff Sergeant Chief Elgin
(Ice Cube) to interpret the map. Maj. Gates joins in and convinces the o­ thers that
the map shows the way to stolen gold bullion from Kuwait and that they should
steal the gold for themselves. To keep meddling TV news reporter Adriana Cruz
(Nora Dunn) at bay, Gates has Specialist Walter Wogeman (Jamie Kennedy) give
her an incorrect lead to follow. The next day the men arrive at the bunker indi-
cated on the map, where they find the gold and luxury goods plundered from
Kuwait and stumble on Amir Abdullah (Cliff Curtis) being interrogated and tor-
tured. The crew stays to fight for the Iraqi prisoner’s freedom and gets involved in
a firefight. They retreat right before reinforcements arrive, but happen upon a mine-
field and become separated. Troy is captured by Iraqi soldiers, and the remaining
Americans are rescued by local rebels and ushered to an underground hideout.
­There, Conrad, Chief, and Archie make a deal with the rebels, offering to help their
families if they are first allowed to rescue Troy. Troy is brought back to a bunker
and tossed in a room filled with Kuwaiti cell phones. He is able to phone his
spouse and ask her to report his location, but he is cut off when the soldiers drag
him to an interrogation room and have Iraqi Captain Saïd (Saïd Taghmaoui) tor-
ture him. The other Americans eventually f­ree Troy, who spares Saïd, and finds
Shi’ite dissidents being imprisoned in a dungeon. A few of the Iraqi soldiers who
initially fled return, shooting Conrad and Troy. Conrad dies, but Troy survives
the shots. Archie arranges transport, while the inept officers in the camp try to
find the three soldiers ­after hearing from Troy’s wife. Each of the rebels receives a
bar of gold for his ser­vices, and the remaining gold is buried. The convoy reaches
the Ira­nian border, and the Americans attempt to escort the rebels to Iran, but
new American officers arrive and arrest the three soldiers while recapturing the
THREE KINGS 323

rebels. Archie tries to bribe the officers, but they respond by saying that charges ­will
be brought against Archie, Troy, and Chief Elgin. In an epilogue, the film states
that the three surviving soldiers (Archie, Troy, and Chief Elgin) have been cleared
of the charges and honorably discharged, thanks to Adriana’s reporting. The epi-
logue goes on to show Archie and Chief working for Hollywood as military advi-
sors and Troy back home with his f­amily, r­ unning a carpet store. The stolen gold
has been given back to Kuwait, which claims that some is missing, implying that
some pilfering has occurred.

Reception
Three Kings had its U.S. premiere on 27 September  1999—­eight years a­ fter the
first Gulf War (1990–91) and three and a half years before the Second Gulf War
(2003–2011). The movie went into general domestic release on 1 October 1999. It
grossed $60.7 million domestically and $47.1 million in foreign markets for a world-
wide total of $107.8 million: a very handsome profit. Three Kings also received
almost universal critical acclaim. Roger Ebert gave the film four stars out of four
and said that “Three Kings is one of the most surprising and exciting movies I’ve
seen this year . . . ​a weird masterpiece, a screw-­loose war picture that sends action
and humor crashing head-on into each other and spinning off into po­liti­cal anger”
(Ebert, 4 October 1999). David Edelstein also sang the movie’s praises and noted
that its exciting, audacious visual style has already been expropriated by the U.S.
military for promotional purposes: “Even if someone regards Mr. Russell as a pro-
pagandist for the ­enemy, it ­hasn’t stopped the military from swiping his visual pal-
ette and his syntax [for recruitment ads] . . . ​What­ever ele­ments of Three Kings
may have been appropriated for militaristic ends, however, the original w ­ ill never
lose its power to shock. It remains the most caustic anti-­war movie of this genera-
tion” (Edelstein, 2003). President Bill Clinton screened Three Kings at the White
House on 14 October 1999 and, according to Roger Ebert, instantly became one
of its biggest fans. “ ‘I loved it,’ Clinton said, ‘­because it accomplished all t­ hese dif­
fer­ent t­ hings. It’s a ­great cheap-­thrills movie. Clooney’s unbelievable—­the screen
loves him, and all the other guys are good. It’s a tragedy as well as a comedy . . . ​
And they tell the very sad story that our country has to come to terms with—of
how we falsely raised the hopes of Shiites in the south of Iraq. And what has been
done to them since then . . . ​It’s an atrocity what Saddam Hussein did to them’ ”
(Ebert, 3 February 2000). Clinton’s successor, George W. Bush, had a dif­fer­ent take
on the outcome of the First Gulf War. When Russell met Bush in 1999 and said he
was editing a film he’d just made that would question his f­ather’s legacy in Iraq,
Bush replied, “Then I guess I’m g­ oing to have to finish the job, a­ ren’t I?”

Reel History Versus Real History


Three Kings tells a fictional story but from a historically truthful premise. David O.
Russell:

When I started investigating the war I only knew the official story—­that we
went to the M
­ iddle East and kicked Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait. But when
324 TO HELL AND BACK

I looked at it more closely, I saw that Hussein was left in power and George
Bush encouraged the Iraqi civilians to rise up against Hussein and said ‘­We’ll
help you do it.’ And the p ­ eople did rise up, and we d ­ idn’t support them . . . ​
and they got massacred by their own army. I thought that this would be an
in­ter­est­ing backdrop for a story about a band of soldiers who go into this sur-
real, corrupted Iraqi atmosphere a­ fter the war. They think Iraq is littered with
cell phones, luxury cars and booty stolen from rich Kuwait, and they want to
steal something for themselves. But they suddenly find a situation that com-
pletely confronts their humanity and demands that they re-­think what t­ hey’re
­doing and who they are. Almost every­thing in the film is true. Saddam did
steal all the gold from Kuwait, and it was missing for a long time. When he had
to return it, some was missing . . . ​And many American soldiers ­were dissatis-
fied about leaving Saddam in power and seeing him beat up his own ­people.
(://­urbancinefile​.­com​.­au​/­home​/­view​.­asp​?­a​=3
­ 186&s​=F
­ eatures).

What Russell could not acknowledge is that his story constructs a Western liberal
wish-­fulfillment fantasy that uncritically posits a “white savior” cinematic trope,
that is, the portrayal of a white character (Clooney’s Archie Gates) rescuing ­people
of color from their plight: an example of a paternalistic Orientalism that subtly
undermines the film’s putative good intentions.

TO HELL AND BACK (1955)

Synopsis
To Hell and Back is an American war film directed by Jesse Hibbs and starring Medal
of Honor recipient Audie Murphy as himself. Based on Murphy’s 1949 autobiog-
raphy, the film recounts his combat exploits in the Eu­ro­pean Theater during World
War II.

Background
Medal of Honor winner Audie Leon Murphy (1924–1971) killed 250 e­ nemy sol-
diers; he was the most decorated U.S. combat soldier in WWII and a celebrated
national hero. When Universal-­International purchased the film rights to Audie
Murphy’s memoir, To Hell and Back (1949, ghost writer: David “Spec” McClure) in
June 1953, the studio approached Murphy to play himself. Concerned that taking
the role would be perceived as self-­aggrandizing, he initially declined, recommend-
ing Tony Curtis instead, with whom he had previously co-­starred in three West-
erns. Producer Aaron Rosenberg and director Jesse Hibbs pressured Murphy to star
in the picture, despite the fact that 31-­year-­old Murphy would be portraying himself
as he was at ages 18 to 20—­actually not a prob­lem inasmuch as Murphy still had an
unusually youthful appearance. Eventually Murphy relented and signed on.

Production
The movie was filmed at Fort Lewis and the Yakima Training Center, near Yakima,
Washington, in the fall of 1954 with soldiers from the base serving as extras.
TO HELL AND BACK 325

Murphy received 60 ­percent of the $25,000 the studio paid for the rights, as well
as $100,000 and 10 ­percent of the net profits for starring in the picture and acting
as a technical advisor. Several U.S. generals who served in World War II ­were
considered for the role of performing the voice-­over introduction to the movie,
among them Maxwell Taylor and Omar Bradley. General Walter Bedell “Beetle”
Smith was fi­nally chosen for the role.

Plot Summary
Young Audie Murphy (Gordon Gebert) grows up in a large, poor sharecropper
­family in east Texas. His ­father deserts the ­family around 1939–1940, leaving his
­mother, Josie Belle (Mary Field), struggling to feed her nine ­children. Murphy starts
working early in life to make money for his m ­ other and siblings. When his m ­ other
dies, his siblings are sent to live with his oldest s­ ister, Corrine (to whom Murphy ­will
send his G.I. allotment pay). Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, Murphy attempts
to enlist but is turned away by every­one except the Army. Murphy completes basic
training and is posted with the 3rd Infantry Division in North Africa. As a result
of his youthful appearance, he is the butt of many jokes about “infants” being sent
into ­battle. Murphy proves himself, however, and is quickly promoted up the
ranks. Having earned the distinction of second lieutenant, Murphy leads men into
combat in Sicily, Italy, and France, forming friendships with fellow soldiers John-
son (Marshall Thompson), Brandon (Charles Drake), and Kerrigan (Jack Kelly). In
January 1945, near Holtzwihr, France, Murphy’s com­pany is forced into a retreat
by the Germans, but Murphy stays ­behind to cover for his men. As the Germans
surround him, Murphy commandeers an abandoned M4 Sherman tank and rid-
dles the ­enemy with machine-­gun fire. Murphy single-­handedly foils the German
attack and saves his entire com­pany. ­A fter being hospitalized for his wounds,
Murphy returns to active duty. The film concludes with Murphy’s Medal of Honor
ceremony shortly ­after the war ends.

Reception
To Hell and Back had its gala world premiere at the Majestic Theatre in San Anto-
nio, Texas, on 17 August 1955. The date was the 10th anniversary of Murphy’s
Army discharge at Fort Sam Houston, also in San Antonio. Surpassing expecta-
tions, the film garnered critical accolades, was an enormous commercial success—­
Universal’s highest-­grossing release ­until Jaws (1975)—­and was a g­ reat boon to
Murphy’s film c­ areer and personal finances; it was estimated the actor earned $1
million from the film. The movie also pop­u­lar­ized “dogface,” a slang term for U.S.
Army foot soldiers, mostly through the use of the 3rd Infantry Division song, “Dog-
face Soldier,” written by Lt. Ken Hart and Cpl. Bert Gold. Many of the film’s b­ attle
scenes ­were reused in the Universal film The Young Warriors (1967). Murphy tried
to make a sequel called The Way Back, dealing with his postwar life, but could never
produce a script that attracted financing.

Reel History Versus Real History


In general terms, To Hell and Back is a fairly accurate depiction of Murphy’s war
experiences. The only glaring departure from fact is the use of a Sherman tank in
326 T W E LV E O
­ ’CLOCK HIGH

place of what should have been an M10 “Wolverine” tank destroyer for the Medal of
Honor combat scene (though more than 6,700 M10s w ­ ere built during WWII,
none ­were available in 1954, much to Murphy’s chagrin). The film omits Murphy’s
two Silver Star–­w inning ­battles and renders the combat deaths of a number of his
friends in rather melodramatic terms. The movie’s main weakness, though, is
due to the repressive requisites of patriotic Cold War ideology and the strictures
of the Motion Picture Production Code (aka “Hays Code”), which forbade foul
language and vio­lence that was too explic­itly bloody. Consequently the film
sanitizes every­thing: American infantryman, the real­ity of combat, even the
landscape and weather. Suffice to say that real soldiers are often grimy and their
language is often bitterly profane. The soldiers’ uniforms in To Hell and Back are
always too clean and well pressed, and their banter is unrealistically genteel.
Likewise, the combat scenes are action packed but largely devoid of blood and
suffering; war-­torn Eu­rope seems far less damaged than expected; the weather
conditions are too temperate and dry for Anzio in 1944 or Holtzwihr in 1945.
Having tried his best to make the movie as au­then­tic as pos­si­ble, Audie Murphy
was disappointed with the film, which he dismissed as nothing more than a
“Western in uniform” that “missed by a mile.” Most irksome to Murphy was the
film’s concluding scene, showing him being awarded the Medal of Honor and a
raft of other Allied military decorations. His autobiography had excluded this
event, and he would have preferred it omitted from the film as well, but he was
overruled by the commercially savvy producers who knew that audiences would
want to see the film end in triumphal cele­bration. Ultimately, though, what’s
most misleading about To Hell and Back is that it gives the impression that ­g reat
heroism comes without devastating psychological damage. In point of fact Audie
Murphy suffered from severe “­ battle fatigue” (post-­
traumatic stress disorder
[PTSD]): lasting and deep psychological trauma manifested by chronic insomnia,
survivor’s guilt, a gambling addiction, mood volatility, scrapes with the law, and
other prob­lems that dogged him the rest of his life. He slept, or tried to sleep,
with a loaded .45 u ­ nder his pillow. “To become an executioner, somebody cold
and analytical, to be trained to kill, and then to come back into civilian life and
be alone in the crowd—it takes an awful long time to get over it,” he told jour-
nalist Thomas Morgan in 1967. “Fear and depression come over you” (quoted in
Martone, 2010, p. 151).

T W E LV E ­O ’ C L O C K H I G H ( 1 9 4 9 )

Synopsis
Twelve ­O’Clock High is an American war film produced by Darryl  F. Zanuck,
directed by Henry King, and adapted by Sy Bartlett and Beirne Lay, Jr. from their
1948 novel of the same title. Starring Gregory Peck, Gary Merrill, and Dean Jag-
ger, the film is about aircrews in the U.S. Army’s Eighth Air Force flying daylight
bombing missions against Nazi Germany and occupied France during the Second
World War.
T W E L V E ­O ’ C L O C K H I G H 327

Background
In February  1942 United States Army Air Forces (USAAF) Brigadier General
Ira C. Eaker was sent E ­ ngland to establish the U.S. Eighth Air Force to conduct
daylight, high altitude “precision” bombing of Nazi Germany that was often far
from precise. One of the staff officers accompanying Eaker was Bierne Lay, Jr., who
served briefly as the Eighth Air Force’s historian and film unit commander. Lay
went on to command the 487th Bomb Group, was shot down, managed to evade
capture, and returned to friendly lines and further ser­vice. ­After the war Lay, a free-
lance writer, resumed his civilian trade. In the spring of 1946 Sidney “Sy” Bartlett
(born Sacha Baraniev), a screenwriter and another Eighth Air Force veteran,
approached Lay and proposed that they collaborate on a novel and screenplay based
on their war experiences. While Bartlett and Lay ­were in the midst of their l­abors,
the air war in Eu­rope was dramatized by yet another Eighth Air Force veteran, Wil-
liam Wister Haines, whose Command Decision appeared as a serialized novel in
Atlantic Monthly (1946–1947), then as a successful Broadway play (1947–1948),
and fi­nally as an acclaimed 1948 movie, appropriately starring Clark Gable, a deco-
rated air combat veteran in real life. Scooped but undaunted, Bartlett and Lay
finished their work and sold the screenplay, entitled Twelve ­O’Clock High, to Dar-
ryl F. Zanuck’s 20th ­Century Fox in February 1948 for a hefty $100,000. Four
months ­later Harper & Bros. published the novel version, which earned mostly rave
reviews and became a bestseller.

Production
The casting of the film’s lead character, General Frank Savage, turned out to be an
involved pro­cess. John Wayne was offered the part but turned it down, as did Clark
Gable, who had already played essentially the same role in Command Decision
(1948). Dana Andrews lobbied hard for the part but was ultimately passed over.
Edmond O’Brien, Ralph Bellamy, Robert Preston, Burt Lancaster, James Cagney,
Van Heflin, Robert Young, and Robert Montgomery ­were also considered before
the role fi­nally went to Gregory Peck in January 1949. Peck had initially refused
the part ­because he found the script too similar to Command Decision but director
Henry King persuaded him to change his mind. King also literally went the extra
mile for location scouting. Flying his own private plane, King visited Eglin Air Force
Base in the Florida panhandle on 8 March 1949 and found the perfect location for
most of the shoot a few miles north of the main base, at Eglin Auxiliary Field No. 3
(aka Duke Field), where a control tower and 14 other buildings ­were ­later con-
structed to create the fictional RAF Archbury. On the recommendation of the
film’s technical advisor, Col. John deRussy, King chose Ozark Army Airfield near
Daleville, Alabama, as the site for filming B-17 takeoffs and landings, including a
spectacular B-17 belly-­landing sequence, b­ ecause the light-­colored runways at Eglin
did not match war­time runways in E ­ ngland, which w­ ere black macadam less vis­
i­ble to ­enemy aircraft. Additional background photography was shot at RAF Bar-
ford St. John in Oxfordshire, ­England, and at other locations around Eglin AFB
and Fort Walton Beach, Florida. The crew used a dozen B-17s for filming, borrowed
from Eglin and elsewhere, courtesy of the U.S. Air Force, which had pledged its
328 T W E LV E O
­ ’CLOCK HIGH

full cooperation ­after vetting the script. Principal photography took place from late
April to early July 1949. Though color would have been preferred, the film was
shot in black and white to allow for the inclusion of a­ ctual air combat footage.

Plot Summary
Twelve ­O’Clock High focuses on the “hard luck” 918th Bomb Group stationed at
Archbury in the En­glish midlands. With the lowest bombing effectiveness, most
aborted missions, and highest loss rates in the Eighth Air Force, the 918th suffers
from abysmally low morale. Brigadier General Frank Savage (Gregory Peck), the
tough-­as-­nails operations officer for General Pritchard (Millard Mitchell), head of
Bomber Command, identifies the prob­lem as emanating from the group’s com-
mander, Col. Keith Davenport (Gary Merrill), an other­w ise “first-­rate” command-
ing officer who has come to over identify with his men, fostering lax discipline
and a group culture of self-­pity. Accompanied by Savage, Pritchard visits Archbury,
relieves the popu­lar Davenport of command, and replaces him with Savage.
A “by-­the-­book” disciplinarian—­almost to the point of being a martinet—­Savage

In a scene from Twelve ­O’Clock High (1949), Brig. Gen. Frank Savage (Gregory Peck,
right) suffers a stress-­induced ner­vous breakdown as (from left) Capt. Twombley
(Lawrence Dobkin), Maj. “Doc” Kaiser (Paul Stewart), Maj. Harvey Stovall (Dean Jagger),
and Col. Keith Davenport (Gary Merrill) look on. (Twentieth C ­ entury Fox/Photofest)
T W E L V E ­O ’ C L O C K H I G H 329

cracks down on the men of the 918th and is soon roundly despised. When all of
the pi­lots ask for transfers, Savage has his trusted adjutant, Major Stoval (Dean
Jagger), drag his feet on the paperwork in order to buy the time needed for the
men to acclimate to Savage’s new morale-­building regimen. As the group recovers
its self-­confidence and combat effectiveness improves, the pi­lots change their
minds and begin to warm to Savage’s leadership. Pi­loting the lead plane, Savage
leads the 918th on a crucial mission: to destroy a German ball bearing factory
deep in e­ nemy territory. The B-17s inflict heavy damage on their target, but a sec-
ond strike is needed to finish it off. As Savage attempts to climb into his bomber
to lead a second strike, he suffers a m ­ ental breakdown a­ fter many months of
intense stress and emotional self-­repression. As Major Stovall notes, “He swept his
feelings ­under the carpet. It had to spill out.” Nonetheless, 19 of 21 planes return
from their mission, having “clobbered” their target: welcome news to Savage who
begins to come out of his psychological fugue as the film ends.

Reception
Twelve ­O’Clock High had three U.S. premieres: one for the studio, at Grauman’s Chi-
nese Theater in Hollywood, on 21 December 1949 (with Gens. Armstrong, Eak-
ins, and Curtis LeMay in attendance); another for the Air Force, at Offutt AFB in
Omaha, Nebraska (hosted by Gen. LeMay, chief of the newly formed Strategic Air
Command) on 16 January 1950; and an East Coast debut at the Roxy in New York
City on 28 January 1950. The film went into general release in February 1950 to
rave reviews and robust box office returns. The Times picked Twelve ­O’Clock High
as one of the 10 Best Films of 1949. ­A fter attending the first premiere, General
LeMay averred that he “­couldn’t find anything wrong with it.” It was once required
viewing at all the U.S. ser­v ice academies, where it was used as a teaching example
for Hersey-­Blanchard Situational Leadership Theory. The film is still widely used
in both the military and civilian worlds to teach the princi­ples of supposedly effec-
tive leadership.

Reel History Versus Real History


Though a work of fiction, Twelve ­O’Clock High is firmly rooted in Eighth Air Force
history, and many of its characters are loosely based on real p ­ eople. The ­actual
“hard-­luck” group was the 306th Bomb Group at Thurleigh, which, multiplied by
three, became the 918th at mythical Archbury. Gregory Peck’s General Savage is
based on General Frank A. Armstrong, Jr. (aka “The Fireman”). A troubleshooter
for Eighth Air Force chief Ira Eaker, Armstrong was assigned to rebuild two under-
performing Bomb Groups: the 67th  in the fall of 1942 and the 306th  in early
1943. (Unlike Savage, Armstrong did not crack up but was sidelined with bleed-
ing ulcers.) Major General Pat Prichard is based on Eaker. Col. Keith Davenport is
a kinder and gentler version of Col. Charles B. “Chip” Overacker, the obstreper-
ous, incompetent first commander of the 306th Bombardment Group, who was
fired by Eaker and replaced by Armstrong on 3 January 1943. Lt. Jessie Bishop
(Robert Patten) is based on Lt. John Morgan, a B-17 co-­pilot who was awarded the
Medal of Honor for landing his B-17 a­ fter his pi­lot was severely wounded during
330 T W E LV E O
­ ’CLOCK HIGH

a bombing run over Hanover, Germany, on 28 July 1943. Major Joe Cobb (John
Kellogg) is based on Major (­later Col.) Paul Tibbets, who ­later became famous as
the pi­lot of the B-29 “Enola Gay,” which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima
in 1945 (Tibbets himself served as a technical advisor for this movie). Sgt. McIl-
henny (Robert Arthur) is based on Sgt. Donald Bevan, who was shot down over
Germany in April 1943 and became a prisoner of war (POW). Bevan and fellow
POW, Edmund Trzcinski, l­ ater co-­w rote the play Stalag 17, which was made into a
hit movie by Billy Wilder in 1953.
W
WA L K I N T H E S U N , A ( 1 9 4 5 )

Synopsis
A Walk in the Sun is a World War II American combat film based on the epony-
mous novel by Yank writer Harry Brown. Adapted to the screen by Robert Rossen;
directed by Lewis Milestone; and starring Dana Andrews, Richard Conte, George
Tyne, John Ireland, Lloyd Bridges, and Sterling Holloway (with narration by Bur-
gess Meredith), the film follows a U.S. Army platoon as it fights its way inland dur-
ing the 1943 Allied invasion of Italy.

Background
Just ­after D-­Day (June 1944), Alfred A. Knopf published A Walk in the Sun, a grip-
ping combat novel by a 27-­year-­old Yank magazine staff writer named Harry Brown
(1917–1986). Written in just two weeks, the book generated excellent reviews and
impressed actor Burgess Meredith, who persuaded his friend, producer/director
Samuel Bronston (coincidentally a nephew of Leon Trotsky), to undertake produc-
tion of a film version. An adaptation was rushed out by screenwriter Robert Ros-
sen (Body and Soul) so the film could appear before the war ended—an ambition
unrealized; the movie was released on 3 December 1945, three months ­after VJ
Day ended the Second World War.

Production
Upon review by Joseph Breen at the Hays Office, Rossen’s script was cleansed of
words like “virgin,” “geez,” “chunk of hell,” and “bloody.” Also vetting the script, the
War Department called for changes that explained why a U.S. infantry platoon
would assault a farm­house defended by Wehrmacht machine gunners without
recourse to bazookas to destroy the building. Scenes ­were added showing all the
platoon’s bazooka rockets being used up beforehand to take out ­enemy armor.
Directed by Lewis Milestone (All Quiet on the Western Front), A Walk in the Sun was
shot in the winter of 1944–1945 at Malibou Lake and the Conejo Valley between
the Simi Hills and Santa Monica Mountains, 30 miles northwest of Los Angeles—­
terrain suitably similar to the topography near Salerno—­but the shoot ran into
unexpected production snafus at the outset: four straight days of rain in an area
where precipitation is extremely rare. Money proved to be another headache. Just
days into shooting Samuel Bronston ran out of funds, abrogating a distribution deal
with United Artists and forcing a shooting hiatus as Milestone scrambled to find
alternative financing and distribution. Luckily, he secured a new backer: Johnny
332 WA L K I N T H E S U N , A

Fisher, a con man and former bootlegger turned bookie and Beverly Hills bar owner
(he owned The Nineteenth Hole on Melrose Ave­nue). Fisher came up with the
money—­prob­ably laundered gambling proceeds from Las Vegas—­but stipulated
that he populate the film with his own extras in order to keep his investment ­under
surveillance (Lloyd and Parker, 1993, pp. 95–96). With $750,000 in financing
secured, Milestone brokered a new distribution contract with Darryl Zanuck’s
20th ­Century Fox and the shoot resumed. Principal photography on A Walk in the
Sun wrapped on 5 January 1945.

Plot Summary
During the pre-­dawn hours of 3 September 1943 the 53 soldiers comprising Lee
Platoon of the 26th Infantry (“Texas”) Division are on a landing barge approach-
ing the beaches near Salerno, Italy, as part of the Allied invasion of Italy (“Opera-
tion Avalanche”). The platoon commander, Lt. Rand (Robert Lowell), is hit by
shrapnel that takes off half of his face. Platoon Sgt. Pete Halverson (Matt Willis)
assumes command and ­orders Sgt. Eddie Porter (Herbert Rudley) to lead the men
to the beach while he tries to find the captain and confirm their o­ rders. McWil-
liams (Sterling Holloway), a medic, remains with Rand while the rest of the unit
disembarks and digs in, d ­ oing what he can to avoid machine-­gun fire. At sunrise,
the men are ordered into the surrounding woods to seek shelter from the strafing
by Nazi fighter planes. Tyne intends to wait on the beach for his comrades, but is
informed that both Rand and Halverson are dead. Soon ­after, McWilliams dies in
a strafing attack. Entering the woods, Tyne finds three men hit by gunfire, includ-
ing Sgt. Hoskins who was the se­nior surviving noncommissioned officer (NCO).
Hoskins’ wound takes him out of the war, and Porter, as se­nior NCO, is forced to
take command. Hoskins warns Tyne to keep an eye on Porter, who is showing signs
of combat fatigue. Porter, Tyne, and Sgt. Ward (Lloyd Bridges) then lead the men
in three squads along a road t­ oward a bridge six miles inland that t­ hey’re ordered
to destroy. An e­ nemy fighter plane strafes the platoon; they run for cover to a nearby
ditch but sustain several casualties. The men encounter two Italian soldiers in
retreat, who surrender and warn the squads that German troops control the road
and surrounding area. Soon thereafter, the platoon meets a small reconnaissance
patrol of U.S. soldiers. A patrolman takes a motorcycle to a nearby farm­house to
investigate, offering to report back. Tyne tells the men to “take ten” while he sits
with Porter, who is beginning to break down completely as the motorcyclist fails
to return, and tells Ward that he is putting Tyne in charge. When a German half-­
track approaches, Tyne commands his men to attack it with hand grenades and
machine-­gun fire. The bazooka men, who had been sent ahead, destroy two tanks
and another half-­track, but use all their bazooka rockets in the pro­cess. Leaving a
man to guard Porter, Tyne ­orders his men to advance. The soldiers make it to the
farm­house, but Germans open fire and two men are killed. Tyne and Ward are
stymied. Windy (John Ireland) suggests ­going around the farm by way of the river
and blowing up the bridge. Tyne sends two patrols, one headed by Ward and
another by Windy, to reach the bridge. Once Rivera opens covering fire Tyne and
his men go over the stone wall and into the field in a frontal assault on the farm­
house. On his way to the ­house, Tyne discovers the body of Rankin (Chris Drake),
W E ­W E R E S O L D I E R S 333

one of the men killed earlier, still holding his Thompson submachine gun lovingly
in his arms. The bridge is destroyed, and the platoon manages to capture the
farm­house as well. Then, at exactly noon, Windy, Ward, and the surviving men
wander through the ­house as Ward fulfills his dream of eating an apple while Tyne
adds another notch to the butt of Rankin’s Tommy-­gun.

Reception
­Because it was released ­after the war ended, A Walk in the Sun did not do as well at
the box office as was hoped; having just lived through four savage years of it, Amer-
icans ­were sick of war—­and war films. Most reviews w ­ ere favorable, but Bosley
Crowther’s assessment in the New York Times was more mea­sured. Crowther pro-
nounced A Walk “unquestionably one of the fine, sincere pictures about the war”
but one that “falls considerably short of the cumulative force” of the novel upon
which it was based: “the transcendent bomb-­burst of emotion which forms the cli-
max of the book is not achieved” (Crowther, 1946).

Reel History Versus Real History


Due to war­time exigencies the U.S. military could supply Milestone’s film with only
a single U.S. Army M3 half-­track masquerading (poorly) as a German Sd.Kfz. 251
half-­track and a P-51 fighter imitating a German fighter plane. The film gets some
smaller details wrong, for example, the actors keep their helmets on with chinstraps
fastened: a practice shunned by real G.I.s for fear that a strapped-on helmet might
snap a man’s neck if shock waves from a nearby shell explosion pulled it away with
enough force. The film also depicts soldiers pulling out grenade pins with their
teeth. In real­ity, strong steel cotter pins made this Hollywood cliché an impossible
feat that would only result in severe dental damage. Sam Fuller, a decorated WWII
veteran (and f­ uture director-­producer of The Steel Helmet and other war films) found
more egregious violations of verisimilitude. In June  1946 Fuller wrote to Lewis
Milestone to express his “keen disappointment” with A Walk in the Sun. Hoping
A Walk would be a World War II version of Milestone’s superlative All Quiet on the
Western Front, Fuller found the latter movie rife with “shabby forced remarks made
by riflemen,” a lack of suspense, and lots of implausible action: “A bridge? A bridge
six miles from the beach with two Krauts pulling guard duty? On the morning of
the invasion? A h ­ ouse . . . ​with Kraut machine-­gunners? When the Krauts had
months, years to put up a camouflaged pillbox, move in with w ­ omen and kids?
A ­house with Krauts manning a ­couple of machineguns six miles from the beach the
morning of an invasion? Advance armored recon car tearing through a road, evi-
dently Kraut armor somewhere in the rear—­all that hell—­and two Kraut guards on
the bridge, goose-­stepping. Oh Mr. Milestone!” (Quoted in Cull, 2000, pp. 82–84).

W E ­W E R E S O L D I E R S ( 2 0 0 2 )

Synopsis
We ­Were Soldiers is an American war film that dramatizes the B
­ attle of Ia Drang
in November 1965, during the Vietnam War. Directed by Randall Wallace and
334 W E ­W E R E S O L D I E R S

starring Mel Gibson, the film is based on the book We ­Were Soldiers Once . . . ​And
Young (1992) by Lieutenant General (Ret.) Hal Moore and reporter Joseph L. Gal-
loway, both of whom w­ ere at the ­battle.

Background
The ­Battle of Ia Drang (14–18 November 1965) was the first major set-­piece ­battle
between U.S. Army forces and regulars of the Vietnam ­People’s Army (PAVN) dur-
ing the Vietnam War. The two-­part b ­ attle took place at two adjacent landing zones
(LZs) west of Plei Me in the Central Highlands of South Vietnam. While being fer-
ried to LZ X-­R ay by Huey he­li­cop­ters, the 450 men of 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry
­were attacked by a much larger force of PAVN. A ­ fter two days and nights of heavy
fighting (14–16 November 1965), the Americans ­were able to hold out and survive
as a unit. On 17 November the North Viet­nam­ese ambushed and obliterated the
2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry near LZ Albany. In the end, both sides suffered heavy
casualties; the U.S. side had about 300 soldiers killed, and the North Viet­nam­ese
lost more than 1,000 men. Twenty-­five years l­ ater, a­ fter a research trip to Vietnam
with Lt. Gen Harold “Hal” Moore (USA-­Ret.), the commander at LZ X-­R ay, Joe Gal-
loway (the only journalist pres­ent at the b ­ attle), published “Vietnam Story,” a
detailed account in U.S. News & World Report that earned a 1990 National Maga-
zine Award. Galloway and Moore expanded Galloway’s article into a book: We ­Were
Soldiers Once . . . ​And Young: Ia Drang—­The ­Battle That Changed the War in Vietnam
(1992). Published a year ­after the stunning success of “Operation Desert Storm”—­
when renewed pride in American military prowess made the public more recep-
tive to the ideological rehabilitation of the Vietnam-­era soldier—­We ­Were Soldiers
sold an astonishing 1.3 million copies. Randall Wallace, a former seminarian
from Tennessee turned novelist/filmmaker, read the book and was captivated by
it. He approached Moore and Galloway to option the film rights in the fall of
1993, which they sold to him in 1995, some months before the release of Mel
Gibson’s Braveheart, a property written by Wallace, which made him a Hollywood
force to reckon with.

Production
Having written the screenplay, Randall Wallace co-­produced We ­Were Soldiers
(with Mel Gibson’s partners at Icon Entertainment, Bruce Davey and Stephen
McEveety). Wallace also directed the film—­his second directorial effort ­after The
Man in the Iron Mask (1998)—­and cast Mel Gibson, the star of Braveheart, to play
Lt. Col. Moore. A­ fter Wallace had his key players meet their real-­life counter­
parts, he put the cast through a Hollywood version of boot camp at Fort Ben-
ning, Georgia. With cinematography by Dean Semler (an action movie specialist
and frequent Mel Gibson collaborator), We ­Were Soldiers was shot between
5  March and 30 June  2001. The ­battle scenes ­were filmed at Fort Hunter
Liggett, a 167,000-­acre Army training reservation in Monterey County 150 miles
south of San Francisco that doubled for South Vietnam’s Central Highlands.
Training scenes ­were filmed at Fort Benning, and domestic scenes w ­ ere shot in
Pasadena.
W E ­W E R E S O L D I E R S 335

Plot Summary
Prologue: during the final year of the First Indochina War (1954), Viet Minh forces
ambush a French army unit on patrol and wipe it out. Cut to Fort Benning, 12 years
­later. U.S. Army Lt. Col. Hal Moore (Mel Gibson) is chosen to train and lead a newly
created air cavalry battalion. Soon a­ fter arriving in Vietnam, Moore’s unit is fer-
ried into the Ia Drang Valley by he­li­cop­ters at a site that turns out to be the base
camp for North Viet­nam­ese Army units totaling some 3,000 men. ­A fter arriving
in the area, a platoon of soldiers led by 2nd Lt. Henry Herrick (Marc Blucas) is
ambushed. Herrick and several o­ thers are killed and the surviving platoon mem-
bers are surrounded. Sgt. Ernie Savage (Ryan Hurst) takes over the command
and utilizes the darkness to keep the Viet­nam­ese from taking over their posi-
tion. Meanwhile, he­li­cop­ters constantly drop off reinforcements. On the second
day of the b­ attle, the outnumbered U.S. force keeps the e­ nemy at bay using artil-
lery, mortars, and he­li­cop­ter airlifts of supplies and reinforcements. The PAVN
commander, Lt. Col. Nguyen Huu An (Duong Don), ­orders a large-­scale attack
on the American position. On the verge of being overrun by the ­enemy and with
no options left, Moore ­orders 1st Lt. Charlie Hastings (Robert Bagnell), his For-
ward Air Controller, to call in “Broken Arrow” (an emergency call for all avail-
able combat aircraft to attack ­enemy positions, even ­those close to U.S. lines).
The aircraft strafe, bomb, and napalm the ­enemy, killing many PAVN and Viet
Cong troops. The second Viet­nam­ese attack is stopped, and the surviving U.S.
soldiers, led by Sgt. Savage, are brought to safety. Back in the United States, Hal
Moore’s wife, Julia (Madeleine Stowe), has taken on a leadership role among the
soldiers’ wives on base. Meanwhile, Moore’s unit organizes, stabilizes the area,
and waits at the bottom of a hill. Lt. Col. An organizes a final siege on the Ameri-
can troops and sends most of his own to stage the assault. The Viet­nam­ese get in
position, but Hal Moore and his men go on the offensive, charging forward with
fixed bayonets. Before the Viet­nam­ese can fire, Major Bruce P. “Snake” Crandall
(Greg Kinnear) and other men in he­li­cop­ters gun down the Viet­nam­ese. An
is forced to evacuate his headquarters. With their objective reached, Moore and
his men return to the LZ for pickup. The film ends with the revelation that the
landing zone reverted to the North Viet­nam­ese as soon as the American troops
departed.

Reception
Made at an estimated cost of $75 million, We ­Were Soldiers did quite well at the
box office: $78 million in domestic receipts and $36.5 million in foreign ticket sales
for a total of $114.6 million—­a healthy profit ­after promotion expenses. The criti-
cal response was, however, mixed. Many mainstream film reviewers lauded the
movie’s graphic simulated realism, narrative coherence, and even-­handed depiction
of the soldiers on both sides of the fighting. However, some critics found We ­Were
Soldiers clumsy and ideologically suspect, that is, rife with John Wayne–­era war
clichés and nationalistic righ­teousness obviously designed to revise the image of the
Vietnam War in the popu­lar imagination and glorify the U.S. soldier—­while studi-
ously avoiding any hint that the war was misguided or, worse yet, a catastrophic
336 W I N T E R WA R , T H E [ F I NN I S H : TA L V I S O TA ]

exercise of American imperialism. Indeed, the film’s right-­w ing pedigree was
amply demonstrated when President George W. Bush held a private screening of
We W ­ ere Soldiers at the White House on 26 February 2002 (three days before its
national release). In attendance w ­ ere Moore, Galloway, Wallace, Gibson, and
other cast members, spouses, and studio executives, as ­were Vice President Dick
Cheney, Secretary of State Colin Powell, National Security Advisor Condoleezza
Rice, and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. In all the patriotic hoopla, no
one seemed to notice the exquisite irony of the occasion. Whereas Moore, Galloway,
and Powell w ­ ere genuine Vietnam War veterans (“heroes,” if you ­will), hawkish
ideologues Wallace, Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld carefully avoided Vietnam, though
all of them could have served.

Reel History Versus Real History


Although much of the relentless combat action depicted in the film is accurate in
broad terms, the decisive, culminating bayonet charge led by Lt. Col. Moore is a
total, absurd fabrication. In point of fact, the North Viet­nam­ese broke off the engage-
ment of their own accord but not before wiping out Moore’s s­ ister battalion, the
2/7, at LZ Albany—­a crushing American defeat expunged from the movie for obvi-
ous reasons. Historian Maurice Isserman plausibly suggests that the mythical
bayonet charge in We ­Were Soldiers was meant to evoke Gettysburg (1993): “Actor
Sam Elliott, who plays a tough and gravelly voiced master sergeant [Basil L. Plum-
ley] in We ­Were Soldiers, had played a tough and gravelly voiced cavalry officer [Brig-
adier General John Buford] in the earlier film. As a casting choice, Elliot’s presence
works at a subconscious level, and prob­ably intentionally, to link the two films and
the ­battles they depict in the audience’s mind” (Isserman, 2002). Isserman goes
on to characterize We W ­ ere Soldiers as an “idealized, abstracted, and ultimately cyn-
ically manipulative fantasy of generic American heroism u ­ nder fire.”

W I N T E R WA R , T H E [ F I N N I S H : TA LV I S O TA ] ( 1 9 8 9 )

Synopsis
The Winter War is a Finnish war film written and directed by Pekka Parikka. Based
on The Winter War, a novel by Antti Tuuri, the film tells the story of a platoon of
reservists from Kauhava (central Finland), part of an infantry regiment from South-
ern Ostrobothnia, fighting the Red Army on the Karelian Isthmus.

Background
Just a­ fter the start of the Second World, the Soviet Union tried to bully neighbor-
ing Finland into ceding territory. The Finns chose to fight instead. The resulting
Winter War (30 November 1939–13 March 1940) between Finland and Rus­sia was
the ultimate David and Goliath conflict—­except, of course, that Goliath won. Actu-
ally it was a foregone conclusion that the Soviets would win, given their over-
whelming superiority in war matériel and manpower, but the Finns put up a
remarkable fight. During the war’s 105 days, they inflicted a third of a million
W I N T E R WA R , T H E [ F I NN I S H : TA L V I S O TA ] 337

casualties (including at least 150,000 dead) on the Rus­sian invaders—­five times


that of Finnish losses. Nearly a half-­century l­ater prolific Finnish writer/filmmaker
Antti Tuuri published Talvisota [The Winter War] (1984), a terse and gripping his-
torical novel about the conflict that follows soldiers from his hometown of Kauhava
as they fight and die on the Mannerheim Line in Karelia. Based on au­then­tic war
diaries, interviews with veterans, and other firsthand sources, Tuuri’s book strove
for a high degree of historical accuracy. Taken with Tuuri’s novel, Finnish TV
director Pekka Parikka secured the film rights and teamed with Tuuri to adapt
his book to the screen, in collaboration with producer Marko Röhr through the
Helsinki-­based studio, National-­Filmi Oy.

Production
Filming of The Winter War began in October 1988 and ended in April 1989. The
film was shot on location at the following sites: Kauhava (the Hakalas’ hometown,
in the Southern Ostrobothnia region of Western Finland); Kankaanpää (in south-
western Finland); Seinäjoki (in Southern Ostrobothnia); Ristiina (in southeastern
Finland); Keuruu (in south-­central Finland); Lapua (in Southern Ostrobothnia),
and Hyvinkää (in the Uusimaa region, 30 miles north of Helsinki). The original
bud­get of 13 million Finnish marks went up to 19 million FIM (€5.3 million in
2017 or $6 million in 2017 dollars): the most costly Finnish film to date.

Plot Summary
The date is 13 October 1939. The Soviet Union has demanded territorial concessions
from Finland. The Finns have sent J. K. Paasikivi, their ambassador to Sweden,
to Moscow to negotiate with the Rus­sians to try to avert a war. In the meantime,
Finland mobilizes its armed forces. Martti Hakala (Taneli Mäkelä) and his younger
­brother, Paavo (Konsta Mäkelä), report to their local military induction station in
Kauhava, where they are outfitted with uniforms and weapons. They then join the
rest of the Finnish Army’s 23rd Regiment. An officer informs them ­they’ll be ­going
on training maneuvers. A ­ fter bidding farewell to loved ones, the men board a train
headed to Seinäjoki, 25 miles south. Yrjö “Ylli” Alanen (Esko Nikkari) a 50-­year-­old
veteran of the Finnish Civil War (1918), counsels the young soldiers, teaching them
a few fundamentals about warfare (e.g., that the men ­w ill have to fight waves of
Soviet attacks one a­ fter the other). Upon arrival, Martii asks his commanding offi-
cer if his b
­ rother, Paavo, can be placed in his squad with him; permission is granted.
Their half-­brother, Vilho Erkkilä (Heikki Paavilainen), is also assigned to the same
unit. The soldiers vie for possession of a field kitchen, are issued dog tags, attend
religious ser­v ices, and then march off to board their train again, which now takes
them 360 miles southeast to Karjalankannas (the Karelian Isthmus). Over the next
day the men march to the Mannerheim Line and camp. Martii is attracted to a local
­woman. He ploughs her field—­her husband had to report to the front before he
had a chance—­but discovers that Arvi Huhtala (Martti Suosalo) is also courting
her. Paavo is also attracted to a local ­woman whose fiancé is at the front. The sol-
diers shore up fortifications as civilians are evacuated. Vääpeli Hannu Jutila (Kari
Sorvali) tells Martti that the Soviet Union has invaded Finland and the war has
338 W I N T E R WA R , T H E [ F I NN I S H : TA L V I S O TA ]

started (30 November 1939). Lt. Col. Matti Laurila (Esko Salminen) addresses the
men of Ostrobothnia six days ­later (6 December, i.e., Finland’s In­de­pen­dence Day)
and emphasizes that the Finns did not want war but vows that they ­w ill “not yield
an inch” of ground to the invaders. The Finns come ­under Rus­sian artillery bom-
bardment, and “Ylli” Alanen is killed by shrapnel. A ­ fter more shelling, the Soviets
attack the Finnish lines across an open field with infantry, tanks, and air support.
Ahti Saari (Ari-­Kyösti) is shot dead but the attack is repelled. The next morning
the Rus­sians attack again, this time digging their way into the Finnish trenches.
Hand-­to-­hand combat with bayonets ensues as the Finns retake the trenches. The
Soviets launch another massed attack and drive the Finns back, but they soon
mount a successful counterattack. During a night artillery barrage, Vilho Erkkilä
panics and abandons his post—­but returns to action a­ fter getting a placebo that
calms his nerves. Paavo, slightly wounded, is given leave to Ostrobothnia. He tells
his m ­ other that “none of us ­will come back alive.” ­After returning to the front, Paavo
is blown to bits by a direct hit from an artillery shell as Martii looks on. The Finns
repel more massed Soviet frontal assaults. At Christmas (1939), the men gather
round a campfire and sing the “Angel of Heaven.” At this point, Lt. Jaakko Rajala
(Ville Virtanen) has become the new com­pany commander, replacing Lt. Yrjö
Haavisto (Vesa Mäkelä), who has been killed in combat. War-­loving soldier Aatos
Laitila (Markku Huhtamo) dies from a grenade explosion. A ­ fter more attacks the
Soviets have begun to occupy the Finnish lines. Rajala sends Martii to battalion
headquarters to request reinforcements. The Soviets continue their assaults and
Huhtala is killed. On 27 December the Rus­sians halt their attacks on the Taipale
front, and the Finns go to Yläjärvi for rest and recuperation. Martti goes on leave
in Ostrobothnia and tells the ­family about Paul’s death. When Martti returns to the
front, the unit goes to Vuosalmi on the Vuoksi River near the village of Äyräpää.
­There the men fend off more Rus­sian human-­wave attacks. The film shows the
ill-­fated attack by the Men of Nurmo (5 March 1940). The fighting abruptly stops
at eleven o­ ’clock on the morning of 13 March 1940, when the armistice takes
effect.

Reception
Released in Finland on 20 November 1989—­the 50th anniversary of the start of
The Winter War—­Talvisota proved to be a major box office hit in its own country,
posting 628,767 admissions in a nation of just 5 million p­ eople. It fared less well
in other countries, where Finnish films have minimal profile. For example, although
National-­Filmi Oy lobbied hard with lots of advertisements in the American print
media at Oscar time, the film did not receive a hoped-­for Acad­emy Award nomi-
nation for Best Foreign Film. Reviews, though scant, tended to be highly comple-
mentary. Film critic Kevin Thomas called the movie “a grueling, superb and
altogether rewarding achievement, with glorious cinematography and exceptional
sound. It has a tremendous, agonizing immediacy yet preserves a detached per-
spective throughout. It has a whopping 196-­minute r­ unning time, yet is so absorb-
ing that it does not seem overly long” (Thomas, 1989).
W I N T E R WA R , T H E [ F I NN I S H : TA L V I S O TA ] 339

Reel History Versus Real History


Talvisota, both book and film, are historically accurate to an unusual degree; both
are meticulously based on the ­actual combat history of 4th Com­pany, 23rd Infan-
try Regiment, commonly known as “Laurilan Rykmentti” [“Laurila’s Regiment”]
­after its commanding officer, Lt.-­Col. Matti Laurila. As depicted in the film, Infantry
Regiment 23 was mobilized by the Southern Pohjanmaa Military District; its
4th Com­pany was a ­rifle com­pany composed mostly of reservists from the munici-
pality of Kauhava. As also depicted in the film, the regiment fought in the frontlines
in Taipale for a total of 36 days in four separate stints: 17–27 December 1939; 7–16
January 1940; 27 January–5 February 1940; and 11–19 February 1940, spending
the time in between ­these periods at rest. As also shown in the film, the 23rd was
transferred to Äyräpää-­Vuosalmi on the 27–28 February 1940, where it fought in
the frontline for another 14 days, from 29 February–13 March 1940. In sum, the
23rd  Regiment fought on the frontlines for a total of 50 days—­almost half the
duration of the war. At full strength it numbered 2,955 men. Of that number, 682
men w ­ ere killed in action: a 23 ­percent fatality rate. The movie’s depiction of con-
stant shelling and a seemingly endless series of frontal assaults by Soviet troops is
true to history. Excessive Rus­sian losses due to poor tactics can be pinned on Sta-
lin; he had many of his best officers killed off in po­liti­cal purges in the 1930s.
As also reflected in the movie, Finnish soldiers w ­ ere exceptionally well trained,
resourceful, and disciplined; they made the Soviet invaders pay a terrible price.
Z
ZULU (1964)

Synopsis
Zulu is a 1964 war epic written by Cy Enfield and John Prebble, directed by Enfield,
and produced by Enfield and Stanley Baker. Starring Stanley Baker and Michael
Caine, the film depicts the ­Battle of Rorke’s Drift (January 1879) when a small Brit-
ish Army detachment held off a much larger force of Zulu warriors during the
Anglo-­Zulu War.

Background
On 22–23 January 1879, during the Anglo-­Zulu War (in the Natal Province of Cape
Colony, part of present-­day South Africa), a small British garrison of 150 men at
Rorke’s Drift—­many of them sick and wounded—­successfully held off a force of
some 4,000 Zulu warriors bent on annihilating them. British casualties numbered
17 killed and 15 wounded, whereas the Zulus lost some 350 dead and 500 wounded.
Ultimately 11 Victoria Crosses w ­ ere awarded to the defenders of Rorke’s Drift—­a
rec­ord number for a single engagement up to that time. Britain’s Alamo-­like vic-
tory was trumpeted in the home press, especially b ­ ecause it offset a humiliating
defeat at the B
­ attle of Isandlwana, which immediately preceded it. In that encoun-
ter a Zulu army of 20,000 attacked and destroyed a force of 1,800 British and colo-
nial troops. Seventy-­nine years l­ater British journalist and popu­lar historian John
Prebble (writing u ­ nder the pseudonym John Curtis) revived the memory of Rorke’s
Drift with an article entitled “A Slaughter in the Sun” (Lilliput magazine, April 1958).
Inspired by Prebble’s account, blacklisted expatriate American screenwriter-­director
Cyril “Cy” Enfield approached his friend and filmmaking colleague, Welsh actor
Stanley Baker, and won Baker’s enthusiastic support. ­After Endfield and Prebble
completed a script, Baker showed it to American movie mogul Joseph E. Levine
while both men ­were making Robert Aldrich’s The Last Days of Sodom and Gomor-
rah in Italy in 1961. Seeing the potential for a blockbuster epic, Levine agreed to
supply the lion’s share of the picture’s $1.75 million production bud­get u ­ nder the
aegis of Baker’s production com­pany, Diamond Films, Ltd.

Production
Photographed in “Super Technirama 70,” an anamorphic pro­cess less grainy than
Cinemascope that uses a wide-­screen 2.35:1 aspect ratio, most of Zulu was shot on
location in Royal Natal National Park in South Africa, about 90 miles southwest of
the ­actual ­battle site, during the spring and summer of 1963. A replica of the
ZULU 341

Lt. Gonville Bromhead (Michael Caine, left) and fellow British soldiers fight off attacking
Zulu warriors in Cy Endfield’s Zulu (1964). (Photofest)

mission depot at Rorke’s Drift was constructed beneath the Amphitheatre (an
imposing crescent-­shaped massif of sheer basalt cliffs in the Drakensberg Moun-
tains) while the set for the field hospital and supply depot at Rorke’s Drift was
built near the Tugela River with the Amphitheatre in the background. Interiors
and some other scenes w ­ ere shot at Twickenham Film Studios near London.
South Africa’s Apartheid government assisted in the production by supplying 80
white South African National Defence Force (SANDF) soldiers as extras. The Zulu
nation also assisted by supplying hundreds of paid extras to portray their ances-
tors, but first Stanley Baker had to show the Zulu what a film was, as they had
never seen one. He showed them a Gene Autry Western, at which they laughed
hysterically. Baker also had to convince the Zulu that blank cartridges ­were harm-
less. Once they mastered the basics of acting (especially faking death in simulated
combat), they performed extremely well.

Plot Summary
Opening voice-­over narration by Richard Burton recounts the Zulu rout of Lord
Chelmsford’s British forces at the B
­ attle of Isandlwana. In the aftermath, the vic-
torious Zulus are shown walking among the scattered corpses of British soldiers
and expropriating their Martini-­Henry ­r ifles. Messengers interrupt a mass Zulu
marriage ceremony at Cetewayo witnessed by missionary Otto Witt (Jack Hawkins)
342 Z U L U

and his d ­ aughter (Ulla Jacobsson) to inform Zulu King Cetshwayo kaMpande (Chief
Mangosuthu Buthelezi) of the stunning victory. An understrength com­pany of the
British Army’s 24th Regiment of Foot is using the missionary station of Rorke’s
Drift as a supply depot and army hospital for their invasion force across the border
from Natal into Zululand. Natal Native Contingent (NNC) commander Lt. Gert
Adendorff (Gert van den Bergh) brings news of the disaster at Isandlwana and
warns that an impi (detachment) of 4,000 Zulu warriors is advancing on Rorke’s
Drift. Lt. John Chard (Stanley Baker) of the Royal Engineers assumes command of
the tiny garrison when he determines that he is slightly se­nior to army officer
Lt. Gonville Bromhead (Michael Caine) due to a slightly earlier commission date.
Burdened with dozens of wounded soldiers, the men at Rorke’s Drift cannot outrun
the Zulus. Chard therefore decides to make a stand, using upended wagons and
stacked mealie sacks and biscuit crates to improvise a defensive perimeter wall.
Rev. Witt gets drunk and demoralizes the men with his dire predictions of ­wholesale
slaughter, causing the small Natal Native Contingent to desert. Chard o­ rders Witt
locked in a supply room. As the Zulu army approaches, a 100-­man detachment of
Boer cavalry arrives but soon r­ ide off to safety, a­ fter advising Lt. Chard that defend-
ing the station is hopeless. The Zulu army fi­nally arrives on the scene and imme-
diately attacks at multiple points. The British open fire and kill scores of Zulu
warriors, but Adendorff informs them that the Zulus are only testing the strength
of British firepower. Rev. Witt issues more dire predictions before escaping the
­battle with his ­daughter. Chard realizes that the next attack ­w ill likely come from
at least two sides at once. Worried that the northern perimeter wall is under-
manned, he ­orders soldiers from the southern perimeter to fill in the gaps. To the
surprise of the British, Zulu warriors on the adjacent bluff start firing on the sta-
tion with ­r ifles captured from the British dead at Isandlwana. Throughout the day
and into the night, wave ­after wave of Zulus attack but are always repelled. The
Zulus succeed in setting fire to the hospital’s thatched roof, leading to intense
hand-­to-­hand combat between British patients and encroaching Zulu warriors. Pri-
vate Henry Hook (James Booth) takes charge and leads the other patients to safety.
The next morning, the Zulus approach Rorke’s Drift and begin singing a Zulu war
chant, prompting the British to respond by singing “Men of Harlech,” a Welsh mili-
tary march. Another attack ensues. Just as it seems the Zulus ­w ill fi­nally over-
power the exhausted defenders of Rorke’s Drift, the British soldiers fall back to a
small inner redoubt with walls constructed from stacked mealie bags. A reserve
cadre of soldiers hidden within the redoubt form into three ranks and fire volley
­after volley at their onrushing foe; while one rank kneels to reload, another ­behind
it stands and fires, and so on: a devastating machine-­like barrage that inflicts car-
nage, causing the Zulus to break off the fight. ­After a pause of three hours, the
Zulus reor­ga­nize into yet another phalanx. Expecting another assault that ­will likely
destroy them, the British are astonished when the Zulus instead sing a song to honor
the bravery of the defenders before quitting the field. The film ends with another
solemn voice-­over by Richard Burton, listing the 11 defenders who received the
Victoria Cross for their courageous and resourceful defense of Rorke’s Drift.
ZULU 343

Reception
Zulu premiered at the Plaza Theatre at Piccadilly Circus in London on the 85th anni-
versary of the b­ attle (22 January 1964). In general release, the movie received rave
reviews and was one of the biggest box office hits of all time in the UK (U.S. box
office returns ­were solid but not as spectacular). Remarkably, Zulu remained in con-
stant theatrical circulation in Britain for the next 12 years before making its first
appearance on tele­v i­sion. It remains a favorite among war film aficionados on both
sides of the Atlantic.

Reel History Versus Real History


Zulu represents the 24th Regiment of Foot as mainly Welsh. It was based at Brecon,
South Wales, but only a quarter of its soldiers w ­ ere actually Welsh; a third w
­ ere
British and the rest ­were from other parts of the UK. No one sang “Men of Har-
lech”; the regimental march in 1879 was “The Warwickshire Lads.” The film depicts
the entire ­battle as occurring in daylight hours, but much of the fighting tran­spired
at night. Rev. Otto Witt, the Swedish missionary who originally owned Rorke’s
Drift, was unpop­u­lar, but not a drunk, and his d ­ aughter was a young child in 1879,
not a grown ­woman. Nor was she pres­ent at Rorke’s Drift. Actually pres­ent but
omitted from the movie was the British padre, George “Ammunition” Smith (1845–
1918), who played a vital part in the ­battle. The film also mischaracterizes a num-
ber of the combatants. Lt. Bromhead was quite deaf and not very bright. Commissary
James Dalton (Dennis Folbrigge) is portrayed as weak and inept. In real­ity Dalton
was instrumental in the decision to stay and fight and in the preparation of the
defensive works. Pvt. Henry (Harry) Hook is depicted, at least initially, as a drunken
malingerer when, in fact, he was an exemplary soldier and a teetotaler. Colour Ser-
geant Frank Edward Bourne was 5'6" and just 24  years old in 1879, but Nigel
Green, the actor who portrays him, was 6'2" and 40 years of age. As for the ­battle
itself, the Zulu attacks ­were more relentless and less coordinated than depicted in
the film. Nor did the Zulu sing in praise of the courage of the defenders of Rorke’s
Drift at the end of the b ­ attle; they quietly withdrew from the field when Lord
Chelmsford’s approaching column was spotted in the pre-­dawn hours. The movie
also omits the fact that the British finished off scores of wounded Zulu warriors
left ­behind on the battlefield: a grim real­ity that, if shown, would have detracted
from British glory.
This page intentionally left blank
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350 B ibli o g r aph y

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Index

Bold indicates the location of main entries.

ABC Films, 160 Altman, Robert, 119, 281, 357


ABPC (Associated British Picture Ambler, Eric, 69
Corporation), 72, 168, 221 Amblin Entertainment, 214
Abraham Lincoln Brigade, 198 Ambrose, Stephen, 272, 345
Abwehr, 282 America First, 284
Adamovich, Ales, 61, 345 American Indian Movement (AIM), 201
Adaptations, 11, 13, 34, 47, 50, 114, American Indian Wars, 205
193–94, 200, 226, 235, 298, 312, American Legion, 271
318, 331 American Sniper, x, 4–7, 350, 354
Afghanistan War, 167, 217–20, 347 American Veterans Committee, 15
AFI (American Film Institute), 10 Anderson, Maxwell, 1
AFI Film Festival, 219 Andrews, Dana, 327, 331
African Americans, 16, 36, 85, 132, 136, Anglo-Zulu War, 340–43
155, 303, 321 Anka, Paul, 222
Afrika Korps, 168–69, 171, 244, 262–63, Annaud, Jean-Jacques, 7, 104
300 Anti-Semitism, 109–10, 137, 246, 293–94,
Afrikaners, 44–46 312
Agar, John, 269 Anti-war films, x, 4, 10, 14, 36–37, 48,
Agee, James, 306, 310, 345 139, 166, 183, 238, 250, 255, 270,
Aidid, Mohamed Farrah, 34–36 287–88
AIF (Australian Imperial Force), 127, 129 Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, 263
Airborne troops, 23–24, 55–56, 58, 98, ANZAC (Australian and New Zealand
100, 129, 154–55, 221, 223, 225, Army Corps), 126–27, 129, 345
272, 274 Apocalypse Now, xii, 7–11, 59, 61, 132, 154
AK (Armia Krajowa), 187–88, 249 Arab Council, 213
Al Qaeda, 179 Arab Revolt, 208, 213
Alameda Naval Air Station, 317 Arabia, x, 208–9, 211–12, 279, 347, 354
Alamo, The (1960), 222, 309 Ardennes and Rhineland campaigns, 23
Albert, Eddie, 13–14, 222–23 Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, 95
Albertson Ranch, 14, 44, 255 Armia Krajowa (AK), 187–88, 249
Aldrich, Robert, 13–15, 340, 345 Armstrong, Gen. Frank A., 329
Alexandria, Egypt, 168–70, 173 Army Emergency Relief (AER), 306
Algerian War, 19–20, 33 Army of Northern Virginia, 130
Algiers, 12, 19–22, 348, 354 Army of Shadows, 11–13
All Quiet on the Western Front, 1–4, 347 Army of the Potomac, 130
Allen, Dede, 288 Arnold, Gen. Henry H. “Hap,” 316
Allenby, Gen. Edward, 211–12 ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam),
Allied Artists, 180 11
358 I NDE X

ASDIC, 70 Battle of Al Gazala, 262–63


Aspin, Les, 34 Battle of Algiers, The, 19–22, 348, 354
Associated British Picture Corporation Battle of Amiens, 238
(ABPC), 72, 168, 221 Battle of Antietam, 133–34
ASTP (Army’s Specialized Training Battle of Berlin, 90
Program), 235 Battle of Corregidor, 159
Atlanta Film Festival, 183 Battle of Crete, 171
Atomic bomb, 102–103, 330 Battle of Diên Biên Phu, 318–20
Atrocities, 36, 58, 63, 122, 207, 254, 301, Battle of El Alamein, 264, 300
323 Battle of El Guettar, 243
Attack!, 13–16 Battle of Falkirk, 41–42
Attenborough, Richard, 54–55, 141, 173, Battle of Fort Wagner, 135
265, 267 Battle of Gettysburg, 129–30, 133
Auschwitz concentration camp, 248, Battle of Guadalcanal, 144
279–80, 282–83 Battle of Guam, 153
Australia, xi, 28–30, 43, 45, 64, 126, Battle of Hamburger Hill, x, 154–57, 346,
128, 146, 152, 162, 313, 345–46, 349
349, 352 Battle of Huế, 119, 122
Australian Imperial Force (AIF), 127, 129 Battle of Ia Drang, 333–34
Australian Light Horse Brigade, 129 Battle of Isandlwana, 340–41
Austria, 4, 75, 91, 295, 298 Battle of Iwo Jima, 111–14, 214–17,
Ayer, David, 122–23 269–71, 351
Ayers, Lew, 1–3 Battle of Kasserine Pass, 31, 243–44,
305–6
B-17 bomber, 298, 327, 329 Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, 136
B-24 bomber, 54 Battle of Krymskaya, 66
B-25 bomber, 101, 316–17 Battle of Leros, 147
B-29 bomber, 102, 104, 330 Battle of Leyte Gulf, 153
B-52 bomber, 191 Battle of Lone Pine, 127
Babelsberg Studios, 105, 248 Battle of Midway, 308
BAFTA Awards, 53, 103, 192, 212, 234, Battle of Mogadishu, 34–36, 63
250, 254, 276, 281 Battle of Mount Austen, 311, 315
BAFTA nominations, 19, 42, 71, 84, 158, Battle of Nagashino, 187
163, 171, 186, 195 Battle of Normandy, 277
Bagram Airfield, 218 Battle of Okinawa, 151, 153, 271
Baker, Diane, 65 Battle of Pork Chop Hill, 255, 257, 352
Baker, Stanley, 69–70, 147, 149, 200, Battle of Pusan Perimeter, 231
340–42 Battle of Rorke’s Drift, 340–41
Baldwin, Adam, 121 Battle of Stalingrad, 299
Bale, Christian, 101–2, 177 Battle of Stirling Bridge, 40
Ballad of a Soldier, 17–19 Battle of Takatenjin, 185
Ballard, J. G., 101–2, 104, 345 Battle of Tarawa, 269, 271
Banks, Dennis, 201 Battle of Temmokuzan, 187
Barber, Samuel, 253 Battle of the Atlantic, 69–70
Barthelmess, Richard, 78–79 Battle of the Bulge, 14, 23, 33, 144, 235,
Bartlett, Sy, 255–57, 326 237, 245, 287–89
Baruch, Bernard, 302 Battle of the Messines Ridge, 28–30
Bastogne, Belgium, 23–25, 245 Battle of the Nek, 126
Bataan, 308–9 Battleground, 23–25, 347, 351
I NDE X
359

Bavaria Filmstadt, 74–75, 89, 299–300 Best Supporting Actress Oscar, 117
Beasts of No Nation, 25–27, 346, 349, 351 Bettany, Paul, 227
Beatty, Warren, 279 Bevan, Donald, 295, 330
Beckton Gas Works (London), 102, 120 Biberman, Herbert J., 181
Beevor, Antony, 277, 320, 346 Bielski Partisans, 86–88, 354
BEF (British Expeditionary Force), 92–93, Bienstock, Martin, 155
96–97 Big Red One, The, 30–33, 345–46, 348
Bellamy, Ralph, 327 Bigelow, Kathryn, 163–66
Bendix, William, 144–46 Bishop, William Avery “Billy,” 81
Beneath Hill 60, 28–30 Biskind, Peter, 82, 312, 346
Berenger, Tom, 130, 250–52 Bixby Letter (Abraham Lincoln), 273
Berg, Peter, 217–19, 235 Black Hawk Down, x, 34–36, 346, 352
Berg, Rick, 85 Blake, Robert, 255
Bergen, Candice, 265, 267 Boal, Mark, 163–64, 166
Bergman, Ingmar, 176, 189 Boer War, 43, 45
Berlin, 4, 89–91, 105, 109–10, 140, 171, Bogarde, Dirk, 55, 209
175–76, 240, 277, 297 Bogart, Humphrey, 115, 262–64, 347,
Berlin Film Festival, 58, 106, 171, 240, 350
253, 314 Bogdanovich, Peter, 31
Bernadotte, Count Folke, 91 Bogomolov, Vladimir, 174–76
Best Actor Oscar, 53, 128, 135, 163, 212, Bolt, Robert, 208–9, 213, 285
245, 250, 270, 286, 298, 306 Bond, Ward, 310
Best Actress Oscar, 158, 163 Booker Prize, 101, 278
Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar, 45, 53, 77, Boone, Pat, 265
250 Boorman, John, 159–63, 349
Best Art Direction Oscar, 186, 261, 281 Boot camp, 38, 119, 122–23, 227, 272,
Best Cinematography Oscar, 10, 42, 53, 334
77, 117, 128, 135, 163, 192, 195, 212, Born on the Fourth of July, 36–39, 353
261, 264, 275, 281 Boshin War, 204, 207–8
Best Costume Design Oscar, 163, 186, 261 Bottoms, Sam, 7, 9
Best Director Oscar, 3, 38, 42, 53, 77, 84, Bottoms, Timothy, 180–81
117, 128, 163, 166, 250, 253–54, 261, Boulle, Pierre, 49–50, 53–54, 346
275, 281 Boulogne Studios, 12, 137, 222
Best Editor Oscar, 36, 38, 53, 77, 84, 117, Bovington Tank Museum, 123
128, 163, 166, 192, 212, 270, 275, Bowden, Mark, 34, 36, 346
281, 286 Bowie, David, 231–33, 348
Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, 15, 48, Box office flops, 55, 103, 106, 114, 160,
91, 109, 139, 186, 199, 294, 338 238, 240, 281
Best Music Oscar, 53, 212, 234, 306 Boxer Rebellion, 268
Best Picture Oscar, 24, 42, 53, 78, 84–85, Bradley, Gen. Omar, 242, 244, 246, 325
117, 143, 150, 163, 166, 212, 245, Bradley, James, 111
254, 275, 281 Bradley, John H. “Doc,” 113–14, 271
Best Screenplay Oscar, 128, 281, 320 Branagh, Kenneth, 94–95
Best Sound Editing Oscar, 6, 10, 36, 42, Brand, Neville, 295
77, 84, 117, 128, 135, 212, 216, 254, Brando, Marlon, 7–10, 157, 194, 209
264, 270, 275 Braun, Eva, 90–91
Best Special Effects Oscar, 150, 310 Braveheart, xii, 39–43, 152, 272–73, 334
Best Supporting Actor Oscar, 45, 84, 117, Breaker Morant, 43–46, 133
128, 192, 264, 267, 297 Bregman, Martin, 37, 251
360 I NDE X

Brickhill, Paul, 72, 140–41, 144, 346 Cannes Film Festival, 9–10, 19, 22, 32, 45,
Bridge, The, 46–49, 222 183, 186, 189, 199, 234, 249, 291,
Bridge on the River Kwai, The, 49–54, 209, 320
234, 345–46 Capa, Robert, 128
Bridge Too Far, A, 54–57 Carabatsos, James, x, 154, 254
Bridges, Lloyd, 331–32 Cardullo, Bert, 349
British Board of Film Censors, 168 Carradine, Robert, 31
British Expeditionary Force (BEF), 92–93, Casualties of War, 58–61
96–97 Caviezel, Jim, 311–13
British Royal Army Service Corps, 169 Cazale, John, 81–83
Broderick, Matthew, 133–34 CEF (Canadian Expeditionary Forces),
Brodie, Steve, 303 238
Brody, Adrian, 247–48, 312 César Award, 186, 199, 250
Bromhead, Lt. Gonville, 341–43 Ceylon, 50–51
Bronson, Charles, 142, 144 CGI (computer-generated imagery), 94,
Brooks, Norman, 13–14 102, 112, 152, 227
Brown, Harry, 269–70, 331 Chamberlain, Col. Joshua Lawrence,
Broyles, William, Jr., 111, 177 130–32
Bruckheimer, Jerry, 34 Changi POW camp, 194
Buchheim, Lothar-Günther, x, 74–75, Chard, Lt. John, 342
346 Cheadle, Don, 155
Bulkeley, John D., 308–9 Chelmsford, Lord, 341, 343
Buñuel, Luis, 180 Cheney, Richard “Dick,” 6, 220, 336
Burma-Siam Railway, 49 Chiang Kai-shek, 268
Burnett, W. R., 141 Child soldiers, 25, 27, 91, 345
Burns, Ken, xi, 129 China, 49, 101–2, 265–66, 268, 316–18
Burton, Richard, 222, 224, 341–42 China Light Mission, 267–68
Bush, President George W., 323–24, 336 Chinese Civil War, 268
Bushveldt Carbineers (BVC), 44 Christmas, 38, 54, 162, 168, 173, 216,
Buthelezi, Chief Mangosuthu, 342 296–97, 314, 338
Buttons, Red, 222–23 Chukhray, Grigori, 17, 19
Churchill, Prime Minister Winston, 55,
Caan, James, 9, 55 73, 93
Cage, Nicolas, 312, 321 Cimino, Michael, 81–83, 85, 251
Cagney, James, 327 Cinemascope, 53, 340
Caine, Michael, 55, 340–42 Cinémathèque Française, 139, 320
Callas, Maria, 148 Civil War (U.S.), xi, 64, 129–32,
Calley, Lt. John, 312 133–36, 204, 272
Cambodia, 9, 11, 154, 190–93, 252, Clavell, James, 141, 194, 196, 347
319–20, 351 Clayton, Jack, 58
Camp Del Mar, 269 Clemons, Lt. Joseph, Jr., 256–57
Camp Pendleton, 145, 177–78, 180, 269 Clift, Montgomery, 115–17, 209
Campbell, Joseph, 25 Clinton, President Bill, 34, 42, 323, 348
Canada, 29, 40, 78, 86, 103, 144, 151, Clooney, George, 314, 321–24
180, 226, 345, 349, 352, 354 Cobb, Humphrey, x, 238–40
Canadian Expeditionary Forces (CEF), Coburn, James, 66–67, 69, 142, 144
238 Cohan, George M., 180
Canby, Vincent, 32, 56, 121, 156, 193, Cohn, Harry, 115–16, 208
254, 261, 291 Cold War, 14, 16, 230, 298, 326
I NDE X
361

Coldstream Guards, 174 Crowther, Bosley, 48, 53, 143–44, 147,


Colleville-sur-Mer, France, 273, 275 150, 158, 189, 195, 224, 256–57,
Colman, Ronald, 78 264, 310, 317–18, 333, 347
“Colonel Bogey March,” 53 Cruel Sea, The, 69–71, 345, 352, 354
Columbia Pictures, 50, 59, 100, 115–16, Cruise, Tom, 36–37, 204–5
133, 147, 161–62, 194, 208–10, 262 Curtis, Tony, 194, 324
Come and See, 61–63 Cusack, John, 314
Computer-generated imagery (CGI), 94, Custer, Gen. George Armstrong, 207
102, 112, 152, 227
Condon, Richard, 295 Da Nang Air Base, 122
Confederacy (U.S.), 130–32, 134 Dafoe, Willem, 38, 250–52
Connery, Sean, 55, 222 Dam Busters, The, 72–74, 168, 345–46, 352
Conrad, Joseph, 7, 11 Damon, Matt, 64–65, 271–72, 274–75
Conscientious Objector, 151, 285 Daniels, Jeff, 129–30, 132, 351
Considine, Bob, 316 Danson, Ted, 274
Conte, Richard, 144, 146, 331 Darren, James, 147, 149
Conti, Tom, 231–33 Das Boot, 74–78
Cooper, Chris, 177–78 Davidtz, Embeth, 280
Cooper, Gary, 203, 262, 283–86, 305 Dawn Patrol, The, 78–81
Cooper, James Fenimore, 200, 203 Day-Lewis, Daniel, 200–202
Coppola, Francis Ford, 7–9, 11, 116, D-Day landings, 30, 221, 225, 230, 244,
119–20, 184, 241–43, 245 272–73, 277, 309, 331, 346
Corps of Military Police (CMP), 170 De Laurentiis, Dino, 251
Corregidor, 159, 308–9, 311 De Montcalm, Gen. Louis-Joseph, 202
Corwin, Norman, 308 De Niro, Robert, 81, 83
Costa-Gavras, Constantin, 12, 191 De Palma, Brian, 58, 251
Costner, Kevin, 279 De Weldon, Felix, 111
Cota, Brig. Gen. Norman, 223–24 Deakins, Roger, 64
Courage Under Fire, 63–66, 354 Deer Hunter, The, xii, 59, 81–85
Courtenay, Tom, 194–95 DeFelice, Jim, 4–5, 350
Courts-martial, 36, 43–44, 60–61, Defiance, 86–88, 143, 211, 352, 354
115–16, 238–40, 253 Delon, Alain, 210
Coutard, Raoul, 319–20 Delpy, Julie, 109
Cowan, Lester, 305–7 Denmark, 55
Coward, Noël, 171–73, 347 Denton, Kit, 43
CPGB (Communist Party of Great Britain), Department of Defense. See DOD
197–98 Depp, Johnny, 251, 312
Craig, Daniel, 86–87 DGA (Directors Guild of America), 218,
Crandall, Maj. Bruce “Snake,” 335 254
Crawford, Joan, 115 DiCaprio, Leonardo, 177, 312
Creative Artists Agency (CAA), 272 Diesel, Vin, 271, 273
Crenna, Richard, 265, 267 Directors Guild of America (DGA), 218,
Crist, Judith, 143, 347 254
Criterion Collection, 139 Distinguished Service Cross, 15
Croatia, 67 Dmytryk, Edward, 14
Crosby, Bing, 151 DOD (Department of Defense), 14–15,
Cross, Beverley, 209 35–36, 64–65, 115, 118, 155, 163,
Cross of Iron, 66–69, 345 177, 230, 302–4
Crowe, Russell, 226–27 Dodecanese Campaign, 147
362 I NDE X

Donlevy, Brian, 262–63 82nd Airborne Division (U.S.), 55–56,


D’Onofrio, Vincent, 120 129, 223, 225
Doolittle, Lt. Col. James, 316–18 82nd Infantry Division (U.S.), 283
Doss, Desmond T., 151–54 Einsatzgruppen, 62, 87
Douglas, Kirk, 157, 238–39, 295 Eisenhower, Dwight D., 223, 244, 246,
Douglass, Frederick, 134, 136 307
Downfall, 88–92, 279, 346, 349 El Toro Marine Air Station, 269
Dream-Works SKG, 111, 114, 214, 216, Elizabeth II, Queen, 150, 171, 212
218, 272 Elliott, Denholm, 69
Dresden, Germany, 287–91 Elliott, Sam, 130, 336
Duke of Edinburgh, 150 Elstree Studios (London), 101, 168
Dullea, Keir, 312 Emancipation Proclamation, 134
Duncan, Patrick Sheane, 63–64, 98, 235, Empire of the Sun, 101–4, 345, 349
254 Endore, Guy, 305
Dunkirk, 92–97, 347, 350–51 Enemy at the Gates, 104–7, 348, 354
Dunkirk evacuation, 92–97, 173–74, 345, Enfield, Cy (Cyril Raker), 340–41
347, 350–51 England, 39, 42–43, 55–56, 70, 72,
Dunn, Nora, 321–22 93–95, 101–2, 120, 194, 198–99,
Duryea, Dan, 263 211–12, 222, 245, 272, 327
Dutch Resistance, 55, 293–94 English Channel, 70, 73, 95, 223
Duvall, Robert, 7, 10, 130 EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal),
Dwan, Allan, 269 163–64, 167
Dye, Dale, 59–60, 201, 251, 253, 272 Epstein, Julius, 66
Ermey, R. Lee, 119
Eady Levy, 157 Europa Europa, 107–10, 348
Eaker, Brigadier Gen. Ira C., 327, 329 Evans, Gene, 302–3
Ealing Studios, 69, 71 Evans, Robert, 31
Eastwood, Clint, 4, 5, 111–12, 114,
214–15, 321 Fairbanks, Douglas, Jr., 78–79
Ebert, Roger, 33, 100, 106–7, 114, 121, Faisal, Prince, 211–13
183, 186, 228, 234, 236, 254, 261, Falkenau concentration camp, 31–32
314, 323, 348 Farago, Ladislas, 242, 348
Ebsen, Buddy, 13, 15 Farber, Manny, 117, 173
Eckert, Shirley, 265, 267 Fegelein, Hermann, 91
Edelstein, David, 220, 323, 348 Fell, Norman, 255
Edersee Dam, 72 Ferrer, José, 211, 295
Edward I of England, King, 41–42 Fields, Freddie, 133
Edwards, James, 230, 255, 303 Fiennes, Joseph, 105, 248, 279
Edwards, Vince, 194 Fiennes, Ralph, 163–65, 277, 280, 282
Eglin Air Force Base, 317, 327 15th Army (Germany), 223
Egypt, 127, 168–70, 173, 262 Fifth Army (U.S.), 307
Eichinger, Bernd, xiii, 88–89 5th Destroyer Flotilla (UK), 171
18th Infantry Division (U.S.), 306 5th Marine Division (U.S.), 112
Eighth Air Force (U.S.), 78, 276, 298, 54th Regiment Massachusetts Volunteer
326–29 Infantry (MVI), 133–34
Eighth Army (UK), 263 Finland, xi, 55, 300, 336–39
Eighth Army (U.S.), 256 Finney, Albert, 210
84 Charlie Mopic, 63, 98–101, 235, 348, FIPRESCI Prize, 48, 63, 171, 183, 199
352 1st Airborne Division (UK), 55
I NDE X
363

First Army (France), 96 Fox, Edward, 55, 294


1st Australian Tunneling Company, 28–29 Fox, James, 194–95
First Battle of the Naktong Bulge, 230 Fox, Michael J., 58–59
1st Cavalry Division (U.S.), 58, 154, 230 Foxx, Jamie, 177–78
First Gulf War, 63–64, 177, 179, 321–23 France, 12–13, 41–42, 49, 75, 77–80, 92,
First Indochina War, 318–19, 321, 335 136–37, 199, 207–8, 213, 229–30,
1st Infantry Division “The Big Red One” 240–41, 273, 318–20, 325
(U.S.), 30–33, 304, 305 Franco, Francisco, 22, 197, 199, 240, 243
1st South African Division, 168 Frank, Anne, 89
First War of Scottish Independence, 39 Franz, Peter, 92
Fishburne, Laurence, 7, 9 French and Indian Wars, 200–201, 203,
Fitzgerald, Barry, 305 207
Flags of Our Fathers, 111–14, 346, French Resistance, 11–13, 143, 223, 225
348–49 Friedkin, William, 37
Flashbacks, 20–21, 30, 59, 112, 172–73, From Here to Eternity, 114–19, 348, 355
176, 181, 198, 207 Front de Libération Nationale (FLN),
FLN (Front de Libération Nationale), 19–22
19–22 Führerbunker (Berlin), 88–92
Flynn, Errol, 80, 144 Fukunaga, Cary Joji, 25–27
Fonda, Henry, 222 Full Metal Jacket, 59, 102, 119–22, 156,
Foote, Shelby, 133 346, 348
Forbes, Bryan, 194 Fuller, Samuel, 30–33, 302–4, 333, 347,
Ford, Glenn, 262 352
Ford, Harrison, 9, 64, 279 Fury, 122–25, 352
Ford, John, 50, 262, 308–11 Fussell, Paul, 246, 276, 349
Foreman, Carl, 53, 147–48, 209, 352
Forrest, Frederic, 7–9 Gabin, Jean, 137–38
Forrestal, James, 112 Gable, Clark, 157, 327
Fort Benning, 35, 334–35 Gagnon, Rene A., 112–14, 271
Fort Bragg, 16, 35, 200 Gallipoli, 28, 126–29, 346, 351
Fort Campbell, 35 Galloway, Joseph L., 334, 336, 352
Fort Dix, 16 Ganz, Bruno, 88–90, 92, 279
Fort Douaumont, 138 Garner, James, 142, 144
Fort Edward, 45–46, 202–3 Garrison, Major Gen. William F., 34–35
Fort Hood, 64 Gary, Romain, 222
Fort Hunter Liggett, 334 Gavin, Lt. Gen. James M., 55, 223
Fort Irwin National Training Center, 164 Geiselgasteig Studios, 141, 238–39, 300
Fort Jackson, 152 Geller, Stephen, 287–88
Fort Lewis, 23, 324 Geneva Convention, 52, 66, 304
Fort Sam Houston, 325 George Air Force Base, 177
Fort Shafter, 116 Gerasimov Institute, 17, 19, 175
Fort Wagner, 133–34 Germany, 88–89, 91, 93, 106, 108–9, 139,
Fort Walton Beach, 327 141, 222, 245–49, 287, 289, 293, 295,
Fort William Henry, 201, 203 300–301, 330
Foster, Preston, 144–45 Gervase, Sgt. David E., 60
458th Heavy Bombardment Group, (U.S.), Gestapo, 12–13, 109–10, 141–43, 293,
54 298–99
4th Armored Division (U.S.), 263 Gettysburg, 129–32, 336, 349, 353
4th Marine Division (U.S.), 160 Ghana, 25–26
364 I NDE X

Giamatti, Paul, 274 Hamill, Pete, 58


Gibson, Mel, 30, 39–43, 72–74, 94–95, Hanks, Tom, 64, 271–74
127, 151–53, 272, 279, 321, 334–36, Harlan, Christiane, 240
349 Harrelson, Woody, 313
Gibson, Wing Commander Guy, 72–74 Harris, James B., 238
Glenn, Scott, 10, 65 Harris, Neil Patrick, 312
Glory, 133–36, 349 Harris, Richard, 141
Godard, Jean-Luc, 319 Harris, Sir Arthur “Bomber,” 73
Goebbels, Joseph, 4, 90–92, 139, 176 Hartnett, Josh, 34–35, 177, 312
Goebbels, Magda, 91 Hartwig, Wolf C., 66–67
Golden Bear, 314 Harwood, Ronald, 247, 250
Golden Dove Peace Prize, 183 Hasford, Gustav, 119–20, 122, 254, 349
Golden Globe Awards, 38, 48, 53, 103, Haskell, Molly, 213
109, 135, 150, 192, 212, 216, 254, Hauer, Rutger, 291–92, 294
267, 276, 281, 291 Hawaii, 112, 115–16, 251, 271, 351
Golden Globe nominations, 42, 84, 143, Hawke, Ethan, 234–35
158, 163, 171, 186, 267, 294 Hawkins, Jack, 49–50, 52, 69–71, 211,
Golden Lion, 22, 176 341
Golden Phoenix Award, 183 Hawks, Howard, 50, 78–79, 283–84
Goldman, William, 54, 56 Hayakawa, Sessue, 49, 51–52, 234
Goldwyn, Samuel, 78, 226, 284, 348 Hayes, Ira H., 112–14, 271
Gollancz, Victor, 101, 354 Hays Code, 119, 318, 326
Gordon, Mark, 272 Hays Office, 331
Göth, Amon, 277, 279–80 Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, 157–59
Gould, Elliott, 55 Hedges, Chris, 164
Grand Illusion, 136–40 Heflin, Van, 327
Grant, Cary, 51 Heinrich, Willi, 66, 68
Grant, James Edward, 269, 271 Hell in the Pacific, 159–60
Graves, Peter, 295, 297 Heller, André, 89
Great Escape, The, 140–44, 195, 265, Hell’s Angels, 78–80
346–47 Hepburn, Audrey, 55
Green Berets, The, 85 Hepburn, Katherine, 50
Guadalcanal Campaign, 144–47, 309, 311, Herr, Michael, 7–8, 119, 254
313, 315 Hersh, Seymour, 254
Guadalcanal Diary, 144–47, 347, 354 Herzog, Werner, 8
Guardino, Harry, 255 Heston, Charlton, 238, 295
Guinness, Sir Alec, 49–53, 211 Hill, George Roy, 287–88, 291
Guns of Navarone, The, 147–50, 168, 345, Hiroshima, Japan, 330
347, 351–52 Hirsch, Emile, 177, 218–19
Gyllenhaal, Jake, 177–78 Hirschbiegel, Oliver, 88–89, 92
Hitler, Adolf, 4, 32, 62, 88–92, 264–65,
Hackman, Gene, 55 279
Hacksaw Ridge, 151–54, 346 Hitler Youth, 90, 92, 108–10, 123
Haggis, Paul, 111, 214 Hoberman, J., 92, 349
Haines, Randa, 235 Hodiak, John, 23–24
Haines, William Wister, 327 Hoffman, Dustin, 321
Hall, Albert, 7, 9 Hoffman, Seymour Philip, 312
Hamburger Hill, 154–57 Holden, William, 50–52, 147, 294–96,
Hamill, Mark, 30–32 298
I NDE X
365

Holland, Agnieszka, 107, 110, 354 Jarhead, 111, 177–80, 348, 351–52, 354
Holocaust, 107, 109, 248, 277–79, 281–82, Jarre, Kevin, 133
345 Jarre, Maurice, 212
Hood, Maj. Gen. John Bell, 131, 321 Jodl, Gen. Alfred, 90, 176, 223, 245
Hope and Glory, 161–63 Joffé, Roland, 190–91
Hopkins, Anthony, 55–56 Johnny Got His Gun, 180–83, 354
Hopper, Dennis, 7, 10 Johnson, Van, 23–24, 317
Hoskins, Bob, 105 Jones, James, 114–15, 117, 222, 311, 315
Höss, Rudolf, 280 Jonze, Spike, 321
Howard, Arliss, 120 Joseph, 54, 146, 347, 349–50
Howard, Leslie, 172 Junge, Traudl, 89–92, 350
Howe, Desson, 103, 135, 203
HUAC (House Un-American Activities Kagemusha, 184–87, 208, 232, 258–59,
Committee), 302 348
Huế, Vietnam, 119–22 KaMpande, King Cetshwayo, 342
Huey helicopters, 66, 83, 99, 156, 334 Kanał, 187–90, 347, 349
Hughes, Howard, 78–80, 129 Katsu, Shintaro, 185, 232
Hugo Award, 291 Keitel, Field Marshal Wilhelm, 90
Hull, Cordell, 286 Keitel, Harvey, 9
Hunter, Jeffrey, 222, 224 Kelly, Lt. Robert B., 308–9, 311
Hurt Locker, The, 163–67, 347–48, 351 Keneally, Thomas, 277–78
Hussein, Saddam, 321, 323–24 Kennedy, Arthur, 211
Huston, John, 157–58, 238, 284, 350 Kerr, Deborah, 115–16, 118, 157–58
Kershaw, Ian, 91
Ice Cold in Alex, 168–71, 351 Kessel, Joseph, 11–12
Ice Cube, 321–22 Khmer Rouge, 190–93
IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices), Khrushchev, Nikita, 17–19, 105, 188
163–64, 166–67 Kieślowski, Krzysztof, 176
IMAX, 94 Killer Angels, The, 129–30
Imperial War Museum, 43, 94 Killing Fields, The, 190–93, 346
In Which We Serve, 171–74 King Lear, 184, 258
“Incident on Hill 192,” 58 King Rat, 141, 194–96, 347
Indochina War, 20 Kingsley, 277, 279–80, 282
Industrial Light & Magic, 102 Kinnear, Greg, 335
Iraq, 4, 6–7, 163, 166–67, 178–79, 209, Kirkus, Virginia, 311
218, 220, 262, 321, 323–24 Kirstein, Lincoln, 133, 350
Iraq War, 4, 163–66, 179 Kirtland Air Force Base, 218
Iron Cross, The, 66–69 Kitchener, Lord, 44–45
Irvin, John, 154 Klimov, Elem, 61–63
Italy, 4, 15, 20, 22, 67, 75–76, 139, 150, Koch, Howard, 278, 284
162, 299–300, 304, 306–7, 325, Koestler, Arthur, 188
331–32, 340 Korda, Alexander, 208
Ivan’s Childhood, 174–76, 353 Korda, Zoltán, 262–63
Korean War, 66, 115, 117, 229–31,
Jaeckel, Richard, 13, 24, 144, 146 255–56, 270, 302, 304
Jagger, Dean, 326, 328–29 Koteas, Elias, 311–14
Japan, xi, 49, 68, 103, 162, 184–86, Kovic, Ron, 36–39, 270, 350
204–7, 214, 216, 231–34, 258, 268, Kraków Ghetto, 248, 279–80, 282
316–17 Kraków-Płaszów concentration camp, 279
366 I NDE X

Krebs, Gen. Hans, 90–91 Letters from Iwo Jima, 214–17


Kretschmann, Thomas, 90–91, 249, Levine, Joseph E., 340
299–300 Levine, Joshua, 94
Krüger, Hardy, 55 Lévy, Raoul, 221
Kuban bridgehead, 67, 69 Lhomme, Pierre, 12–13
Kubrick, Stanley, 102, 119–21, 238–41, Libya, 168–69, 262–63
281, 352 Lincoln, Pres. Abraham, 135
Kuomintang, 267–68 Lindbergh, Charles A., 284
Kuribayashi, Gen. Tadamichi, 112, Lippert, Robert, 302
214–16 LOAC (Law of Armed Conflict), 66
Kurosawa, Akira, 141, 184–86, 204, 208, Loach, Ken, 197, 200
258–59, 261, 349, 353 Lódz Ghetto, 107–8
Kuwait, 65, 178, 322–24 London Blitz, 161, 163, 173
Kyle, Chris, 4–7 Lone Survivor, x, 217–21, 348, 351
Long Range Desert Group (LRDG), 170
La Marseillaise, 138 Longest Day, The, 32, 54–55, 221–25, 347,
Ladd, Alan, 270 351, 353
Ladd, Alan, Jr., 40 Long-range reconnaissance patrols
Lancaster, Burt, 115–16, 118, 243, 327 (LRRPs), 98–100
Land and Freedom, 197–200, 345, 348–50, Longstreet, Lt. Gen. James, 130–31
355 Loo, Richard, 303
Landau, Martin, 255 LRRPs (long-range reconnaissance
Landon, Christopher, 168, 171, 351 patrols), 98–100
Lanzmann, Claude, 109, 282 Lucas, George, 184
Laos, 154, 319 Luce, Clare Booth, 15
Lara, Alexandra Maria, 90 Luftwaffe, 24, 95, 141, 173, 224, 244, 248,
LaSalle, Mick, 166, 179, 351 263, 296, 298
Lasky, Jesse, 284, 286 Lumet, Sidney, 251
Last of the Mohicans, The, 200–204, 349 Lunghua Civilian Assembly Center, 101–2,
Last Samurai, The, 204–8, 348, 350 104
Laughton, Charles, 51 Luttrell, Marcus, 217–21, 351
Law, Jude, 104–5
Lawford, Peter, 222, 224 MacArthur, Gen. Douglas, 271, 308,
Lawrence of Arabia, 208–13, 347, 354 310–11
Lawson, Col. Ted, 316–18 MacLean, Alistair, 147, 351
Lay, Bierne, Jr., 327 MacMurray, Fred, 305
League of German Girls, 109 Macready, George, 239
Lean, David, 49–50, 53, 101, 171–72, Mailer, Norman, 14
208–9, 212, 228, 234, 346 Majdanek concentration camp, 174
Lee, Gen. Robert E., 116, 130, 132 Mako, 265
Leguizamo, John, 59 Malden, Karl, 244
Lehmann-Willenbrock, Capt. Heinrich, Malick, Terrence, 311–15
75, 77 Malkovich, John, 101–2, 190–91
Leibman, Ron, 287–88 Malle, Louis, 191
LeMay, Gen. Curtis, 329 Manabe, Noriko, 216–17, 351
Lembeck, Harvey, 295–97 Manchester, William, 270–71
LeRoy, Mervyn, 315 Mandalay Pictures, 105–6
Leslie, Joan, 284–85 Mann, Anthony, 157, 229–30
Leto, Jared, 112, 313 Mann, Delbert, 4, 278
I NDE X
367

Mann, Michael, 200–201, 203 Mendes, Sam, 177


Mannerheim, Field Marshall Carl Gustaf, 89 Menjou, Adolphe, 239
Mannerheim Line, 337 Meredith, Burgess, 304–6, 331
Mao, Phan Thi, 61 Merrill, Gary, 326, 328
Marcos, President Ferdinand, 8, 251 Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, 231–34,
Marine Corps, U.S., 113–14, 119, 122, 348, 351
144–45, 180, 214, 269 Methot, Mayo, 263
Marine Corps Recruitment Depot Parris Meuse-Argonne Offensive, 283, 285
Island, 119–21 Meyjes, Menno, 101
Marine Corps War Memorial, 111 MGM (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer), 278,
Marines (U.S.), 11, 14, 37–38, 111–13, 308–9, 311, 316
119–21, 144–47, 157, 159–60, MGM/UA, 40
177–80, 215–16, 220, 255, 265, 269, Midnight Clear, A, 234–37, 348, 355
271 Mifune, Toshirô, 159–60
Marshall, Gen. George C., 242, 255, 257, Milestone, Lewis, 1, 3–4, 209, 255, 257,
273, 351 331–33, 347
Marshall, S.L.A., 255, 257 Milius, John, 7
Marvin, Lee, 13–14, 30, 32–33, 159–60, Miller, Arthur, 305
243 Miller, John H., 271, 273
Maslin, Janet, 103, 128, 234, 294, 351 Miller, Sienna, 5
Mason, James, 66–67 Mills, John, 168–69, 173, 194–95
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the Mineo, Sal, 222, 225
World, 226–29, 348 Mishima, Yukio, 232
Mauthausen concentration camp, 248 Mitchum, Robert, 157–59, 222–23, 243,
Maxwell, Ronald F., 129–30, 349 304, 306
Mayer, Louis B., 23–24 Modine, Matthew, 119–20
McAuliffe, Brigadier Gen. Anthony, 24 Mogadishu, Somalia, 35
McCallum, David, 142 Mohicans, 200, 202–3, 347, 349
McCarthy, Frank, 222, 242–43 Monsarrat, Nicholas, 69–70, 352
McConaughey, Matthew, 312 Montalbán, Ricardo, 23–24
McDermott, Dylan, 155 Montgomery, Sir Bernard Law, 54–57,
McDowall, Roddy, 222 223, 244–46
McGinley, John C., 235, 251 Montgomery, Robert, 308–10, 327
McGoohan, Patrick, 41 Montreal Film Festival, 162
McKay, David, 129, 353 Moore, Gen. Harold “Hal,” 9, 334–36,
McKenna, Richard, 265, 268, 351 352
McLaglen, Victor, 145 Moore, Michael, 296
McLeod, Gavin, 255 Morant, Harry “Breaker,” 43–46
McQueen, Steve, 9, 55, 141–44, 194, Mōri Motonari, 258–59
265–66 Morocco, 5, 35, 210
Meade, Gen. George G., 130 Morricone, Ennio, 19
Means, Russell, 200–202 Morris, William, 199
Medal of Honor, 63–66, 151, 153, 271, Morrison, Jim, 250
283–84, 286, 308–9, 324, 326, 329 Morse, David, 163–64
Medavoy, Mike, 312 Moscow, 17, 337, 345
Meeker, Ralph, 239 Moscow Film International Festival, 63
Meiji Restoration, 204–5 Mosfilm, 17–18, 174–75
Melville, Jean-Pierre, 11–13 Motion Picture Production Code, 118,
Men in War, 229–31, 346, 351 302, 326
368 I NDE X

Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron Three, North African Campaign, 168–170,


308 262–265, 305
Mount Suribachi, 111–12, 215, 269–70 North Algodones Dunes Wilderness Area,
Mountbatten, Lord Louis, 171–72, 174 178
MPAA (Motion Picture Association of North Korea (NK), 230–31, 255, 303
America), 41 North Vietnamese Army. See NVA
Muni, Paul, 80 NVA (North Vietnamese Army), 83, 85,
Murdoch, Rupert, 126 99, 121, 154, 252–53
Murphy, Audie, 156, 219, 324–26, 352
Murphy, George, 23–24 O’Brian, Patrick, 226
Mussolini, Benito, 139, 265 O’Brien, Edmond, 222, 327
My Lai Massacre, 254 O’Brien, Pat, 284
Offutt AFB, 329
Nagasaki, Japan, 102–3 Okinawa, 151, 153–54, 271, 306
Naish, J. Carrol, 263, 264 Oldman, Gary, 312
Napoleonic Wars, 226–29 Olivier, Laurence, 55–56
National Book Award, 115, 180, 288 Omaha Beach, 223–24, 272–73, 276
National Park Service, 130 101st Airborne Division (U.S.), 23, 55–56,
National Public Radio (NPR), 114, 353 154, 272, 274
Native Americans, 200–201, 205, 207 101st Jager Division (Germany), 68
Nazi Germany, 4, 17, 108, 122–23, 140, 104th Infantry Division (U.S.), 305
143, 326–27 173rd Airborne Brigade (U.S.), 98
Neame, Ronald, 172 106th Infantry Division (U.S.), 287
Neeson, Liam, 277–78, 280–81 103rd Infantry Division (U.S.), 276
Netflix, 27 O’Neal, Ryan, 55
Netherlands, xi, 54–55, 92, 94, 208, Operation Avalanche, 332
292–94, 345 Operation Bagration, 277
Netherlands Film Festival, 294 Operation Barbarossa, 150
New York Film Critics Circle Awards, 53, Operation Brassard, 150
139, 158 Operation Chastise, 72
New York Film Festival, 22, 45, 162, 186 Operation Deadstick, 225
Newman, Paul, 19, 75, 194, 265 Operation Desert Shield, 177–78
Ngor, Dr. Haing S., 190–92 Operation Desert Storm, 178, 334
Nicholson, Jack, 9, 321 Operation Dynamo, 93
Niland brothers, 272 Operation Griffin, 25
96th Infantry Division (U.S.), 153 Operation Husky, 305
Niven, David, 80, 147–49 Operation Iraqi Freedom, 177, 218
NKPA (North Korean People’s Army), Operation Market Garden, 54–57, 245
303 Operation Neptune, 277
NNC (Natal Native Contingent), 342 Operation Overlord, 221, 223
Nol, Lon, 193 Operation Red Wings, 217–18, 351
Nolan, Christopher, 92, 94, 96 Operation Reinhard, 249
Nolan, Ken, 34 Operation Torch, 262, 305
Nolan, Lloyd, 144, 146 Operation Uranus, 299
Nolte, Nick, 311, 313, 321 Orwell, George, 197–99, 350
Normandy landings, 30, 32–33, 221, 223, Oscar nominations, 6, 10, 24, 27, 38,
225, 271–73, 275, 277, 309, 346 162–63, 253, 256, 261, 267, 270, 275,
North Africa, 19, 30, 168, 171, 241, 244, 281, 310, 314
262, 301, 325 OSS (Office of Strategic Services), 309
I NDE X
369

O’Toole, Peter, 208–13 Pitt, Brad, 122–23, 312


Outsider, The, 214 Piven, Jeremy, 35
Owen, Wilfred, x Płaszów concentration camp, 280
Owens, Jesse, 264 Platoon, 122, 156, 250–55, 314, 348, 353
OWI (Office of War Information), 264 Pleasence, Donald, 142
Poland, xi, 63, 88, 108, 140, 188–89,
Pacino, Al, 9, 37, 312 247–49, 278–80, 282
Palance, Jack, 14 Polanski, Roman, 247–48, 250, 279, 281
Palme d’Or, 10, 45, 186, 199, 234, 249 Pontecorvo, Gillo, 19–20, 22
Pantoliano, Joe, 102 Pool, Lafayette G. “War Daddy,” 124
Papas, Irene, 148–49 Pork Chop Hill, 255–57, 347, 351
Paramount Pictures, 40, 42, 105–6, 238, Post-traumatic stress disorder. See PTSD
272, 295 Pot, Pol, 192–93
Parikka, Pekka, xiii, 336 POUM, 197–200, 232
Parks, Larry, 302 POW camps, 51, 83, 137, 141, 232, 289,
Pasinetti Award, 15 295–96, 298
Paths of Glory, x, 51, 119, 238–41, 347 POWs, 49, 51–53, 83, 103, 138–44, 194,
Patton, 222, 241–46, 348 196, 232–34, 249, 286–88, 290,
Patton, Gen. George S., Jr., 23, 222, 295–98, 302–4, 318–19, 330
241–46, 348 Pran, Dith, 190–93, 353
PAVN (People’s Army), 46, 334 Prebble, John, 340
Pearce, Guy, 163 Preminger, Otto, 295, 297
Pearl Harbor, 34, 101, 104, 115, 117, 152, Presnell, Harve, 112, 273
268, 310, 316–17, 325 Preston, Robert, 327
Peckinpah, Sam, 66–69, 353, 355 Prince Charles, 232
Pegler, Westbrook, 304 Prince Harry, 96
Penn, Sean, 58–59, 311, 313 Prince William, 232
Pentagon, 36, 115, 155, 177, 230, 256, 304 Princess Margaret, 73
People’s Army (PAVN), 46, 334 Prochnow, Jürgen, 74, 76
Peppard, George, 255 Propaganda, 106, 166, 172, 216, 220, 256,
Pepper, Barry, 112, 271, 274 262, 264, 267, 308, 310, 316, 318,
Perel, Solomon, 107–10, 352 323, 350–51
Perkins, Anthony, 209 PT boats, 308–11
Perlman, Ron, 106 PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), xii,
Perrine, Valerie, 287 5–6, 9, 38, 64, 84, 287, 326
Persoff, Nehemiah, 230 Pulitzer Prize, 111, 129, 135, 190, 192,
Petersen, Wolfgang, 74–76, 109 304–6
Pfefferberg, Leopold (aka Leopold Page), Purple Heart, 31, 311
278 Pusan Perimeter, 231
Philippines, 8–9, 37, 155, 159, 251, Puttnam, David, 162, 190–91
308–11 Pyle, Ernie, 122, 304–7, 354
Phillips, Lou Diamond, 65
Phnom Penh, Cambodia, 191 Quail, Anthony, 147
Piaf, Edith, 224 Quayle, Anthony, 149, 168–69, 211
Pianist, The, xiii, 247–50, 279, 353–54 Quezon, President Manuel, 311
Pickett, Gen. George, 131
PIR (Parachute Infantry Regiment), 225, RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force), 72
272 Rabe, David, 58, 60
Pirosh, Robert, 23 Racism, 36, 109, 302–4
370 I NDE X

RAF (Royal Air Force), 72–74, 93, 96, Russian roulette, 82–85
141–42, 174, 196, 223–24, 244, 287, Russo-Japanese War, 52
292–93 Ryan, Cornelius, 54, 56, 221, 225, 353
Rains, Claude, 211 Ryan, Meg, 63–64
Ran, 258–61, 348 Ryan, Robert, 222–23, 229–30
Rathbone, Basil, 80
Ray, Aldo, 115, 229–30 Saadi, Yacef, 21
Reagan, Ronald, 284 Sacks, Michael, 287–88, 291
Red Army, 17, 88, 90–91, 106–7, 109, 174, Saddam Hussein, 178–79, 323
176, 187, 249, 277, 281, 299, 336 SAFC (South Australia Film Corporation),
Red Badge of Courage, The, 53, 238 44, 126
Red Scare, 304 Sahara, 262–65, 347
Redford, Robert, 9, 55, 75, 98, 232 Saint-Gaudens, Augustus, 133
Redgrave, Michael, 72–73 Sakamoto, Ryuichi, 231–32, 234
Reed, Carol, 50, 172 Salt, Waldo, 145
Reed, Donna, 116–17, 308, 311 Samurai warriors, 103, 141, 184, 204–8,
Reilly, John C., 59, 312 260–61
Reitsch, Hanna, 91 San Francisco Film Festival, 176
Remarque, Erich Maria, x, 1 Sand Creek massacre, 207
Remsen, Bert, 255 Sand Pebbles, The, 265–68, 351, 353
Renner, Jeremy, 163–65 Sands of Iwo Jima, 214, 269–71
Renoir, Jean, 136, 138, 140 Sarsgaard, Peter, 177–78
RFC (Royal Flying Corps), 78–80 Sartre, Jean-Paul, 176
Rhames, Ving, 59 Saudi Arabia, 177–78, 210
Rheault, Robert B., 11 Savage, John, 81–83
Rhineland campaign, 23, 123 Saving Private Ryan, 122, 153, 271–77, 314,
Ribisi, Giovanni, 271, 274 352, 354
Rice, Condoleezza, 336 Schaffner, Franklin J., 241–43
Ridley, John, 321 Schanberg, Sydney, 190–93, 353
RKO, 14, 23, 154 Schary, Dore, 23, 238
Robards, Jason, 180–81 Schell, Maximilian, 55, 66–67
Robards, Sam, 60 Schenck, Ernst-Günther, 89
Robert the Bruce, 41 Schickel, Richard, 33, 268
Rockoff, Al, 191–93, 351 Schindler, Emilie, 283
Rodat, Robert, 271–72 Schindler, Oskar, 277–83, 350, 353–54
Roelfzema, Erik Hazelhoff, 292 Schindlerjuden, 278–80, 283
Rohrbach, Günter, 74–75 Schindler’s List, 272, 277–83
Romm, Mikhail, 175, 262 Schlöndorff, Volker, 10, 109
Rommel, Field Marshall Erwin, 168–69, Schoendoerffer, Pierre, x, 318–20, 353
222, 243–44, 300 Schreiber, Liev, 86–87
Rosenbaum, Jonathan, 38, 68, 353 Schwerdfeger, Johann, 68–69
Rosenthal, Joe, 111, 113–14, 269 Scorsese, Martin, 279
Rotterdam Blitz, 293 Scotland, xii, 40–42
Royal Air Force. See RAF Scott, George C., 241–45
Royal Flying Corps (RFC), 78–80 Scott, Randolph, 200
Royal Navy, 69, 76, 95, 97, 148, 174, 226 Scott, Ridley, 34, 36
Rumsfeld, Donald, 6, 336 SEALs (U.S. Navy), 4, 6–7, 61, 88, 123,
Russell, David O., 321, 323 217, 219–20
Russell, Jane, 284 Second Anglo-Boer War, 43–44
I NDE X
371

2nd Armored Division (U.S.), 123 Sony Pictures, 123, 218, 312
Second Battle of Naktong Bulge, 231 Sorpe Dam, 72
Second Gulf War, 167, 179, 323 Souain Corporals Affair, 240
2nd SS Panzer Corps (Germany), 57, 275 Sound Effects Editing Oscar, 276
2nd SS Panzer Division (Germany), 57, South Africa, 26, 44–45, 232–33, 340
277 South Australia Film Corporation (SAFC),
Sedgwick, Kyra, 38–39 44, 126
Segal, George, 194–95 South Vietnam, 99, 120–21, 334
Seiler, Lewis, 144–45 Soviet Union, 63, 105, 108, 110, 174, 176,
Sergeant York, 283–87 197, 245, 268, 277, 336–37
788th Ordnance Company (U.S.), 163 Spaak, Charles, 136, 140
Seventh Army (U.S.), 241, 244 Spanish-American War, 265
7th Cavalry Regiment (U.S.), 204–5, 334 Spanish Civil War, 128, 139, 197–99, 346
Seventh Day Adventist Church, 151–52 Speer, Albert, 89–90
7th Infantry Division (U.S.), 255–56 Spiegel, Sam, 50–51, 53, 208–10, 212
7th Marine Division (U.S.), 177 Spielberg, Steven, 75, 101–3, 111, 153,
75th Infantry Regiment (Rangers) (U.S.), 271–73, 275–81, 283
100 Stalag 17, 294–99
77th Infantry Division (U.S.), 151–153 Stalag Luft III, 140, 143–44
Shaara, Michael, 129–30, 132, 353 Stalin, Joseph, 188, 197, 339
Shakespeare, William, 258 Stalingrad, 17, 61, 104–7, 109, 299–301,
Shanghai International Settlement, 101–2, 347, 349, 354
104 Stallone, Sylvester, 156
Sharif, Omar, 210–11 Stanton, Harry Dean, 255
Shaw, Col. Robert Gould, 133–34, 346, Stars and Stripes, 121–22
350 Starski, Allan, 248, 250
Shaw, Irwin, 14 Steel, Dawn, 59, 162
Sheen, Charlie, 251–52 Steel Helmet, The, 302–4, 333
Sheen, Martin, 7–9, 129–30, 132, 251 Steiger, Rod, 44, 222, 243
Sheffield, Clayton Odie, 33, 73, 353 Steiner, Max, 287
Shepard, Sam, 34–35 Stevens, George, 58
Shepperton Studios, 148, 161 Stigwood, Robert, 126
Shoah, 109 Stone, Oliver, 17–19, 32–34, 36–38,
Siegel, Don, 75 99–100, 117–18, 145–46, 152–54,
Siegfried Line, 54, 245 158–60, 178–81, 239–41, 250–54,
Signoret, Simone, 12 289–94, 304–7, 332–37, 350–53
Sinatra, Frank, 115–17, 194 Stoppard, Tom, 101
Sinise, Gary, 234–35 Story of G.I. Joe, The, 23, 304–7, 349
Siskel, Gene, 255, 314, 353 Stowe, Madeleine, 200–201, 335
Sixth Army (Germany), 109, 299–301 Strauss, Robert, 13, 15, 294–96, 298
Sixth Fleet (U.S.), 222 Streep, Meryl, 82–83
6th SS Panzer Army (Germany), 25 Strode, Woody, 255
60th Infantry Division (France), 240 Stuart, Maj. Gen. J.E.B. “Jeb,” 131
Sizemore, Tom, 34–35, 271, 273 Studi, Wes, 200–201
Slaughterhouse-Five, x, 287–91, 346, 349, StudioCanal, 13, 320
354 Sturges, John, 75, 140, 265
Sloane, William, 229, 354 Stutthof concentration camp, 110
Smith, Gen. Walter Bedell “Beetle,” 325 Subic Bay Naval Base, 155
Soldier of Orange, 291–94 Suez Crisis, 168
372 I NDE X

Suicide, 13, 90–92, 118, 149, 166, 202, Todd, Richard, 72–73, 222
208, 215–16, 301 Tokyo, Japan, 184, 205–6, 216, 233, 260,
Suid, Lawrence H., 155, 271, 354 315–18, 347
Sun Yat-sen, 268 Toosey, Sir Philip John Denton, 53–54,
Super Technirama 70, 340 354
Susskind, David, 58 Toplin, Robert Brent, 242, 245–46, 285,
Sutherland, Donald, 180–81 354
Suzhou Creek Internment Camp, 102–4 Torn, Rip, 255
Switzerland, 240 Tracy, Spencer, 317
Swofford, Anthony, 177–80, 354 Travers, Peter, 106
Syberberg, Hans-Jürgen, 88 Travolta, John, 313
Sykes-Picot Agreement, 213 Treblinka extermination camp, 249
Szpilman, Władysław, 247–50, 354 Tregaskis, Richard, 144–45, 354
Trench warfare, 1–4, 28–30, 129, 182,
Taibbi, Matt, 6, 354 215, 239–40, 255–56, 273, 338
Taiping Rebellion, 204 Tri-Star Pictures, 133
Taliban, 217, 219, 221 Trotsky, Leon, 331
Tank warfare, 23, 33, 47–49, 64–66, Truffaut, François, 48
122–25, 224, 245, 262–63, 275, 292, Truman, President Harry S., 153, 271
300–301, 303, 325–26, 332, 338, 352 Trumbo, Christopher, 346
Tarantino, Quentin, 68 Trumbo, Dalton, 180–81, 183, 315–16,
Tarkovsky, Andrei, 174–76, 350 318, 346, 349, 354
Taylor, Maxwell, 55, 325 Truscott, Maj. Gen. Lucian, 244
Taylor, Robert, 23, 307 Trzcinski, Edmund, 295, 330
10th Mountain Division (U.S.), 36 Turkel, Joe, 239
Tet Offensive, 38, 85, 119, 121–22 Turkey, 127, 129, 148, 210–13
Thailand, 49–50, 59, 83, 190–92 Turner, Ted, 130, 349
Thatcher, Margaret, 232 Tuuri, Antti, 336–37, 354
They Were Expendable, 308–11, 345, 355 12th Army (Germany), 91
Thin Red Line, The, 248, 311–15, 348, 350 12th Cavalry Regiment (U.S.), 64
Third Army (U.S.), 23, 241, 245 Twelve O’Clock High, 255, 326–29
3rd Infantry Division (U.S.), 325 20th Century Fox, 14, 40, 64, 145–46,
3rd Light Horse Brigade (Australia), 157, 184, 203, 221, 224, 226, 242,
126–27 265–66, 332
35th Infantry Division (U.S.), 23 25th Infantry Division (U.S.), 252, 311,
Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, 315–18 313
36th Infantry Division (U.S.), 47 21st Panzer Division (Germany), 170
Thomas, Lowell, 208, 213 24th Infantry Division (U.S.), 230–31
Thomas, Ross J., 28 24th Regiment of Foot (UK), 342–43
Thompson, Jim, 238 29th Infantry Division (U.S.), 276
Thompson, J. Lee, 147–48, 165, 168, 223, 26th Infantry Division (U.S.), 332
238, 303 Twickenham Film Studios, 341
Thornton, Billy Bob, 312 284th Tomsk Rifle Division (USSR), 104
317th Platoon, The, 318–21
336th Infantry Division (Germany), 299 UA (United Artists), 8, 14, 23, 141,
Three Kings, 321–24 238–40, 265, 331
Tibbets, Paul, 330 U-boats, 69–71, 74–78, 95
To Hell and Back, 324–26 Ullman, Liv, 56
Tobago, 157 United Artists. See UA
I NDE X
373

United Kingdom, xi, 92, 162, 222, 247, 293 Von Stroheim, Erich, 137–38
United States Army Air Forces. See USAAF Vonnegut, Kurt, x, 287–88, 291, 354
Universal Pictures, 1, 14, 37, 112, 177, 179, VVAW (Vietnam Veterans against the
218, 278, 288, 291, 325 War), 38, 85
Unsworth, Geoffrey, 55
U.S. Army Signal Corps, 115 Waffen-SS, 124–25
USAAF (United States Army Air Forces), Wagner, Robert, 222
103, 142–43, 287, 296, 298, 316–17, Wahlberg, Mark, 218–19, 321–22
327 Wajda, Andrzej, 187–90
USO (United Service Organizations), Walken, Christopher, 81–84
10–11 Walker, Mary Edwards, 64
USS Hornet, 316–17 Walker, Paul, 112
USS Little Rock, 222 Walk in the Sun, A, 331–33, 346
USS Norfolk, 226 Wallace, Randall, 39–40, 153, 333–34
USS Panay incident, 268 Wallach, Eli, 116
USS Springfield, 222 Wallis, Dr. Barnes, 72–74
USS Texas, 215, 266 Wallis, Hal B., 79, 151, 284, 286
USS Villalobos, 265 Walsh, Raoul, 14
War Bond drives, 111–14
Vadim, Roger, 148 War Department (U.S.), 145, 222, 263,
Van der Post, Sir Laurens Jan, 232, 234 273, 316, 331
Van Praag, Van, 229–30, 354 Warden, Jack, 312
Vandegrift, Gen. Alexander, 113 Warner, David, 66–67
Varsi, Diane, 180, 182 Warner Bros., 5, 14, 33, 58, 78, 93–94,
Vaughn, Vince, 152 101, 191, 205, 215–16, 218, 283–84,
Venice Film Festival, 15, 22, 139, 166, 287, 321
176, 306 Warsaw, Poland, 108, 187–89, 247–50
Ventura, Jesse, 7 Warsaw Uprising, 187–88, 190
Verdun, 138 Washington, Denzel, 63–64, 133–35, 251
Verhoeven, Paul, 291–92, 294 Washita massacre, 205, 207
VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars), 286 Waskow, Capt. Henry T., 307
Victoria Cross, 81, 340, 342 Watanabe, Ken, 205–6, 214–15
Viet Cong, 10–11, 38, 59, 84–85, 99, 122, Waterston, Sam, 191
335 Wayne, John, 31, 85, 157, 222–23, 225,
Viet Minh, 318, 320, 335 243, 269–71, 302, 308–11, 327, 335,
Vietnam veterans, xii, 7, 36, 38, 59–60, 63, 347
82, 85, 98, 119, 157, 250, 254, 270 We Were Soldiers, 333–36
Vietnam Veterans against the War Wead, Frank “Spig,” 308–10
(VVAW), 38, 85 Webb, James R., 243, 255–57
Vietnam Veterans Memorial (Washington, Wehrmacht, 12, 62–63, 66–68, 87, 96,
D.C.), 155 236, 249, 277, 298–99, 331
Vietnam War, 7–9, 11, 36–38, 58, 82, 85, Weir, Peter, 30, 126, 128, 226–27
98, 100–101, 119–20, 122, 154, Weisz, Rachel, 106
156–57, 250–51, 254, 333–36 Welles, Orson, 50, 68, 238
Villamor Air Base, 252 Wellman, William, 23, 78, 304–5, 307
Vilsmaier, Joseph, 299–300 Wenders, Wim, 92, 199, 355
VJ Day, 331 West Africa, 25–26
Volkssturm, 46–47, 49, 90 Western Desert Campaign, 169
Von Rundstedt, Gen. Gerd, 223 Whitaker, Forest, 251
374 I NDE X

White, William L., 308, 311 Writers Guild of America (WGA), 82, 143
White House, 65, 323, 336 Wyler, William, 50, 157, 243
Whitman, Stuart, 222 Wynn, Keenan, 23
Whitmore, James, 23–24
Wicki, Bernhard, 46–47, 222 Yacef, Saadi, 19–20
Wilder, Billy, 281, 294–95, 298, 330, 349 Yakima Training Center, 324
Wilhelm II, Kaiser, 137 Yates, Herbert, 269
Wilhelmina, Queen, 292–93 Yordan, Philip, 230
Williams III, Clarence, 255 York, Alvin C., 283–86, 355
Willingham, Calder, 51, 238 Young, Freddie, 211–12
Willis, Bruce, 312 Young, Robert, 327
Wilson, Michael, 51, 53, 208–9, 213 Ypres Salient, 28
Winter War, The, xiii, 336–39, 354 Yugoslavia, xii, 31, 67, 235, 298
Wise, Robert, 265
Witt, Rev. Otto, 341 Zaillian, Steven, 34, 277, 279
Witton, George, 43–46, 355 Zaitsev, Chief Master Sergeant Vassili
Woods, James, 251 Grigoryevich, 104–7
Woodward, Edward, 29–30, 44 Zanuck, Darryl F., 151, 221–22, 224–25,
World Jewish Congress, 280 242, 265, 326–27, 332
World War I, 1–2, 4, 28, 32, 78, 80–81, Zimbalist, Sam, 315–16
136–37, 139–40, 181, 183, 208, Zinn, Howard, 276, 355
238–40, 262, 283, 349–50 Zinnemann, Fred, 50, 114–18, 355
World War II, 13–14, 16–17, 46–47, Zsigmond, Vilmos, 82
54–56, 159–63, 232–35, 241–44, Zulu, 340–43
246–48, 271–72, 276–78, 287–89, Zululand, 342
291–92, 298–300, 304–6, 324–26 Zwick, Edward, 63–65, 86, 133, 204, 207
About the Author

Robert Niemi, PhD, is professor of En­glish and American Studies at St. Michael’s


College, Colchester, Vermont. He is the author of History in the Media: Film and Tele­
vi­sion (ABC-­CLIO, 2006), Inspired by True Events: An Illustrated Guide to More Than
500 History-­Based Films (ABC-­CLIO, 2013), and Robert Altman: Hollywood Maverick
(Columbia University Press, 2016).
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