From its earliest days, films have depicted people and the lives they live. December 28th 1895 is considered the birthday of cinema as Luis and Auguste Lumière first projected a moving image onto a screen, a train pulling into the station in La Ciotat France. The image was captured by the Lumieres when they placed their Cinématographe, a device that both recorded and projected images, next to the tracks and recorded a train pulling up to the platform. Since then, showing the lives of people, whether in documentary or dramatic form, has been the driving force behind Cinema.
In his film 1917, writer/director Sam Mendes takes the audience back in time as he shows people struggling through a horrendous place and time, the Western Front during World War 1. 1917 depicts two British infantrymen given a most dangerous mission, to work their way beyond the trenches through “no man’s land,” into and through territory the Germans had just evacuated yet was likely still populated by pockets of enemy soldiers, and deliver a message to save 1600 men from a German ambush. Although the story is about the two men on a dangerous mission, there is a third person on the journey, the viewer. Mendes’s goal in the film is to expose the audience to the experience of one of the most brutal and tragic events of the 20th Century, “The Great War.”
To increase the sense of the viewer’s being there, Mendes uses a series of very long, single-shot sequences that give the feeling that the film is taking place in real-time. Other directors have sought to make films to appear as one shot, but none have attempted it on such a grand scale. While the Lumière brothers set up their static camera on the La Ciotat train platform, Mendes snakes his camera through the trenches, battlefield, bombed-out farm, and war-torn city, showing the viewers where the war was fought and where soldiers and non-combatants lived and died. Although the energy of the film is experienced in the combat sequences, Mendes offers glimpses into the other experiences of war, the downtime boredom, hunger, and human connections that arise when people of different lives, cultures, families, and nations are thrown together.
While Mendes is rightly receiving praise, and awards (Golden Globe Winner for Best Direction) much of the weight of the film rests on the shoulders of the two leading characters, Lance Corporal Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Lance Corporal Schofield (George MacKay.) Regardless of the technical wizardry, masterful sets, planning, and direction, the success of the film depends mostly on the ability of Chapman and Schofield to grab the audience’s attention and keep it for the entirety of the two-hour film.
MacKay and Chapman deliver powerful performances conveying an array of emotions including cynicism forged in the fog of battle and the mistakes of command, courage amidst fear, tender generosity within utter brutality, and determination to fulfill the mission and keep a promise. While both actors more than accomplish this, MacKay should be in conversations for best actor awards. Colin Firth (General Erinmore) and Benedict Cumberbatch (Col. Mackenzie) lead a large supporting cast, who given the fluid nature of the film, appear briefly in single scenes. Claire Duburcq, as the only woman in the cast, offers a touching performance as a young woman trapped by the fighting in what was once her home town.
Another masterful accomplishment in 1917 is the production design (Dennis Gassner) and staging. The moment Blake and Schofield go over the wall of the trench into no man’s land they enter a world as alien as another planet, and they take the viewers with them. All around is death, whether it be the bomb craters, tangled, flesh-hungry barbed wire, human and equine corpses, or the foraging rats which, although alive, represent death. Death also lingers beyond no man’s land, but it is mixed with the signs of life and nature that seem to mockingly remind the combatants and viewer of the goodness and beauty of life that used to flourish.
In bad diction to the visual feel, Thomas Newman’s beautifully haunting score effectively mirrors and enhances the drama and emotional peaks and valleys throughout the film. The inclusion of a soldier’s (Jos Slovick) mournful offering of “Wayfaring Stranger” prior to a battle articulates the feelings, fear, and place of those consigned to face the ultimate manifestation of human brokenness.
Viewers familiar with the war film genre will recognize elements of other war films. Echoing Paul in the World War 1 Film All Quiet on the Western Front, Schofield shares how the war has changed him and more importantly, his experience of home. There is also the tension of urban combat where the enemy could be around every turn and in every bombed-out window as shown in Full Metal Jacket and American Sniper among others. There are the surreal sensory experiences that accompany the transformation of a typical town into a monstrous battle jungle, and humanity into a beastly caricature depicted in Apocalypse Now. From Saving Private Ryan there is going forward on a seemingly impossible mission as well as the intimate nature that can accompany the life and death struggle of hand to hand combat. The extended tracking shots also recall the film signature of Stanley Kubrick in his World War 1 masterpiece, Paths of Glory as well as the earlier mentioned Full Metal Jacket.
Given the intimacy and real-time presentation of 1917, the viewer feels perhaps the most difficult part of surviving combat, leaving behind those who fall. What is the most personal and solemn occasion in life is often hardly noticed on the battlefield. When death comes in wave after wave there is little, if any time to mourn the loss nor sanctify the place of the fallen. Combat does not allow for such luxuries as another fight seems always to be calling.
The film is dedicated to Alfred Mendes, Sam Mendes’s grandfather who served in the war as a Lance Corporal in the British Army. Unlike most veterans, he shared his stories and experiences with this family. Through the film, Mendes preserves the memory of this tragic conflagration, the suffering and sacrifice of combatants, family, and civilians. Perhaps it also calls viewers to give pause to the thought of war as a way to settle national and cultural disputes.
1917 is worthy of Best Picture consideration.
Faith Connection:
1917 calls persons of the Jewish and Christian faiths to truly consider the Ten Commandments, especially of not killing, coveting, or worshipping false gods such as material wealth and worldly power. Additionally, the film challenges Christians to consider as authoritative the teaching, and command of Christ to love even one’s enemies and return love for insult and injury.
Although Jesus included no exclusions to this teaching and His life example, too often His followers dismiss them as aspirational, something not possible in the “real” world. While it is easy to label this teaching as unrealistic in the what is less noted is how following these central instructions could prevent escalation of social or political tension into combat.
There is no greater example of such escalation of conflict into combat into conflagration than the First World War. Of course the Armistice of 11/11/1918 was only a 21 year pause to the decimation that was Second World War. This escalation cycle continued through the Cold War and the proxy-wars that continue to this day.
1917 serves serves as a suggestion that, in the midst of the repeated failure of the ways of the “real” world, it might be time to give the Way of Christ a try.
1917 is rated R and opened in wide release December 12.
Greta Gerwig’s film adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved book Little Women deserves the accolades and overwhelmingly positive reviews it has received. There is probably no greater challenge in filmmaking than adapting beloved literary works. Typically there have already been film adaptations as well as the original book against which the film will be measured on both artistic and emotional levels.
Set during the American Civil War, Little Women is a story of family love, hope in the face of challenges, and the power of community to support, nurture and overcome life’s trials. Led by the untiring matriarch Marmee, the March family endures anxiety of the absence of the father who went to war as well as the day to day financial challenges of a family now without a primary source of income. In the midst of these and other challenges, the sisters maintain their close bonds. In addition to their commitment to each other, the family learns through their mother to respond to the call to serve others who are less fortunate and equipped to endure hardship and want. Marmee models that serving does not begin until the service and giving are sacrificial. Even when such service calls to them to make greater than anticipated sacrifices, including the ultimate sacrifice, they retain their spirit and refrain from sliding into bitterness and anger that accompanies loss and grief.
Saoirse Ronan makes the perfect Jo as she commands full attention whenever she is on screen, and even sometimes when she is not. Saoirse does not take all the oxygen in her scenes, she is the oxygen. Florence Pugh also offers a strong performance as Amy, the artist sister and, as Aunt March (Meryl Streep) christens her, the family’s “only hope” to marry well and assure the family’s financial and social status. Eliza Scanlen depicts the fragile Beth with the right amount of delicacy and vulnerable innocence. Emma Watson is functional if a bit young as older sister Meg. Laura Dern shows appropriate strength and miracle worker talents as Marmee, the mother and chief cat-herder of the rambunctious four sisters. The supporting cast, led by Meryl Streep, Chris Cooper, and Bob Odenkirk are, unsurprisingly, strong and greatly add to the nuance and depth of the story.
For those who imagine what would have happened if the SS monsters chasing The Von Trapp family in The Sound of Music had captured them in the Abbey’s graveyard, Terrence Malick’s latest virtuosic film, A Hidden Life offers a possible answer, if Captain Von Trapp had stuck to his convictions.
Although filmed in the Dolomite Mountains of Italy, A Hidden Life depicts the lush pastoral countryside and village of St. Radegund Austria, the home of Franz, his wife Franziska (Valarie Pachner) and his young daughters. Malick does not let any of the indescribable beauty of the Alps go to waste. Cinematographer Jörg Widmer captures the area in such a way that the viewer has the sense they are at one with the landscape and therefore experience a greater connection to the story and film. With but a bit of imagination, the viewer feels both the flowing beauty and peace of the setting.
The viewer might also experience the simple, communal, and peaceful life of St. Radegund as presented at the beginning of the film. Initially, the community was close nit as families cared for and worked with one another to make a life together and help supply food and dairy products for the nation. This bucolic life and sense of community, however, falls victim to the Anschluss of Austria into Germany on March 12th, 1938 and the beginning of World War II.
As he did with the scenery, the director also focuses on the characters. In contrast to the vastness of the pastures and mountains, Malick frequently photographs the individuals in tight shots, seemingly violating personal space boundaries. Such intimacy in shot selection symbolizes the personal nature and effects of the characters’ decisions and actions. The technique also pulls the viewer further into the narrative, making them more of a witness than a distant, disconnected observer.
adhere to his belief, or declare, if only in words, the allegiance. F
Franz Jäggerstätter took John 12:25-26 and other teaching and life examples of Jesus and early followers with most seriousness as he believed that to swear an oath, if only in word, to Adolph Hitler was to join the Peter by the campfire when the Apostle denied his Lord. For Franz, the issue was less about losing his salvation than about betraying his creator and redeemer. Though he became known for his struggle and sacrifice, the title of the film acknowledges Franz was not alone in his decision. Through the centuries there have been many hidden lives chosen righteousness over life in this world.
Throughout the film, Franz resisted offering judgment against those who had given their loyalty to Hitler. It was a personal matter and decision. For Franz, his resistance mattered because he believed it mattered. In his heart, he believed that to offer his loyalty to Hitler was to take it from Jesus. If others did not agree with his belief, Franz withheld judgment. This refusal to judge others extended beyond the screen and into the theater. It is difficult to imagine anyone could watch the film without asking, “What would I do?” As the viewer asks and considers this question while watching Franz wrestle with his dilemma, one senses Franz would call the viewer not to do what he is doing, but to do what the viewer, after intentional discernment, believes God desires them to do.
Although he has a devoted following, Terrence Malick is not every film lover’s cup of tea. As much as any working director, viewers either take or leave Malick’s films, and A Hidden Life, will prove to be no exception. Whether it is the challenging nature of the story or the slowly evolving, three-plus hours length, there will be many for whom this bell will not toll. But for those who appreciate or savor deeply personal storytelling, superb Oscar-worthy acting, and unsurpassable cinematic beauty, A Hidden Life is not a film to miss.
investigative reporter, Vogel is resistant to accept the assignment to interview a man who is known for his sugar-sweet children’s TV program. Later, Vogel discovers that all of the other “Hero” subjects refused to allow him to interview them because of his reputation for attacking the subjects of his stories. Mr. Rogers not only agreed to allow Vogel to do the interview but Rogers sought him out.
In order to be able to love a neighbor, one has to take time to see and get to know them. Where the other Heroes of the Esquire spread saw Vogel as an attack journalist who wrote with a laptop as well as a hatchet, Rogers saw Lloyd as someone living an angry, pain-filled life. Taking the time to literally read between the lines, Rogers saw in Lloyd someone who had life-wounds that were still raw. Upon recognizing this anger and injury, Mr. Rogers shared more than just information about himself with Vogel, he shared himself by establishing a relationship with Lloyd. As with any friendship, Fred took a risk in sharing who he was and what he believed. One of the most important depictions of “Beautiful Day” was Fred Rogers had the rare attribute that he was what he believed. And, what Fred believed was that all persons are special children of God who deserve to be loved and cared for, especially when they are wounded and even angry. For Fred, and all persons of faith, a difficult personality or situation does not release one from their duty to care for others and in doing so, share God’s peace.
In addition to a commitment to love one’s neighbors whether they be next door, family, friends, strangers, and even enemies, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood also depicts Fred Rogers’s living a peace-filled and peace-filling life. While many, including Lloyd, assume that the persona of Mister Rogers is a role for Fred Rogers, Lloyd and the audience discover that the man and the character are the same. Fred Rogers truly lives life at peace, even in the midst of a world that is so often in conflict. Put in a theological perspective, Fred lives a life of Shalom, peaceful wholeness even in the midst of tremendous conflict and uncertainty.
By risking and reaching out to someone he knew was struggling, Fred Rogers helped Lloyd 
subtlety. Fleck is a down on his luck clown for hire and wannabe comedian who is struggling against poverty, crime, the cruelty of others, as well as his and his mother’s mental illnesses. Arthur is just on the edge of functioning and his mother (Francis Conroy) is just over the edge. For Arthur and his mother, if past and present are prologues, their future is utterly void of light and hope. As the story develops it is evident the majority of the Gotham’s citizens are “have-nots” and also succumbing to the downward pull of the city.
In Joker, Chaplin’s Modern Times is shown as part of a High Society, Gala. The irony is hard to miss as “The Rich” of Gotham City gather in an exquisite theater, their laughter at the “Tramp” skating on the verge of disaster, set against the shouting of protestors whose anger is on the verge of boiling over into rage. Through these two references, Todd Phillips is stating “that’s life” in Gotham, as well as our modern times and place.
Through Arthur, Todd Phillips is lifting up the tendency in our modern time to blame individuals for their mental illness. Such culpability often results in individuals not seeking treatment, living under the stress of acting as if they do not have their illness and then being judged when their illness is manifest. This stress often magnifies the symptoms and maladaptive behavior resulting in a cycle of stress, flair-ups, judgment, and more stress.
likewise failed to protect Arthur as a child or provide effective care and therapy for him as an adult. During one of his social work 
condemnation rather than blessings of concern and care to Arthur and others who are vulnerable and suffering, Wayne and all of Gotham experience the woes of their indifference through the rise of Joker and his disciples. Phillips concludes the film by punctuating this reality of woe with the reprise of “That’s Life.”
