As far as war films go, “The Great Escape” doesn’t rank in the most dramatic or the most eye-opening. It doesn’t even make the list of World War II epics with the most compelling characters. It’s a movie with that intangible “it” factor that only comes from an impressive story. Films such as this one that are based on true events and real-life people (many of whom were acted by people with similar war experience), are the reason so many “based on a true story” movies have been made over the years.

“The Great Escape” will have its skeptics because director John Sturges’ approach to the film emphasizes suspense ahead of character development, which usually characterizes fiction. With a background in Westerns, Sturges knows how to build up to and then milk the climactic scenes. The reason the final hour with the prisoners escaping is so good is because it took nearly two hours to get there. It certainly didn’t help the film’s credibility to have Steve McQueen demanding to “do more” in the film and insist on riding a motorcycle, but many remember “The Great Escape” for this reason.

The true elements of the story come from an actual escape attempt by Allied POWs from a German stalag. Paul Brickhill, who wrote the book upon which the film is based, actually assisted in planning a tunneling effort. That should put to rest any questions about the film’s validity. Undoubtedly characters were created by mashing together multiple real-life persons and their fates did not match exactly what happened to them in reality (who could know?), but this was no cheap Hollywood attempt to exploit a terrific true story. After all, the ending is certainly more akin to a war drama than entertaining historical fiction.

Sturges calls upon many of the stars from “The Magnificent Seven” (released three years before this one) to assist him in this film: Steve McQueen as the leader figure notorious for getting in trouble and ending up in “the cooler” or isolation, Charles Bronson as Danny the lead tunneler who ironically is claustrophobic and James Coburn as Louis “The Manufacturer.” Other notable stars are acclaimed actor/director Richard Attenborough, future James Bond villain Donald Pleasence and James Garner. What their characters lack in depth written into the script, these fine actors inject back into their roles as best they can.

“The Great Escape” takes a bit too long to get to the climax so clearly spelled out by the title, but the wait is worth it. The first hour and a half to two hours plays out as a series of episodes showing the preparations and the characters behind them, some more effective than others, but the movie earns its place in war film history with the final act. As these characters flee the prison, you start to realize how much you do indeed care about what happens to them.

There’s so much suspense inherent in the story and written into the script that a dramatically adept director could’ve made “The Great Escape” a monumental film, but thrilling and unique are acceptable adjectives when all is said and done, even if they could have been arrived at a tad bit quicker. After all, much of what there is to marvel at this film about has to do with its fascinatingly true story.

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4/5 Stars

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The Great Escape (1963)
Directed by John Struges
Written by James Clavell and W.R. Burnett, Paul Brickhill (book)
Starring: Steve McQueen, James Garner, James Coburn, Charles Bronson

The Holocaust has been revisited in film so many times that I imagine the first thing German-born film actors ask themselves upon meeting is “which film(s) were you a Nazi in?” The crimes of the Nazi Party and the German soldiers carrying out its mission to revive Germany through the mass killing of Jews and other “invalids” are so unfathomable and powerful that filmmakers and storytellers can’t help but find so many ways to tell complex stories of morality and human survival.”The Counterfeiters” is another one of these films, but lack of originality is absolutely the only knock against it.

“Counterfeiters” focuses on a group of Jews assembled by the Nazis to create mass quantities of Ally currency to be used to decimate Ally economies. It’s the same type of lens on the Holocaust, but a different “edition” so to speak. Yet the script is immaculate, the drama understated and effective, the plot completely engaging, and best of all: it’s a Holocaust film under two hours — and a great one at that.

It begins with a morally complex main character, the crooked-faced Salomon “Sally” Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics), who before the war was a professional counterfeiter, one with considerable artistic talent who chose the more “financially sound” career. Simply put, he’s a criminal and the crimes of the Holocaust manage to make us sympathetic to him. He’s an honest criminal, but a criminal no less. As the leader of his counterfeiting team in a way, following his point of view is extremely interesting. There is his survival instinct, his pride over the work even though it’s helping the Nazis and characters such as his friend Burger the printer (Adolf Burger, who wrote the book the film is based on), who pressures him not to do the work and risk death on principle.

These are all familiar Holocaust film themes. There are the Jews who will do anything to stay alive, helping the Nazis or doing whatever they bid for an extra scrap of food and soft beds and those who would be willing martyrs, dying before they stoop to a certain level or help a Nazi.

The difference is in the execution. Stefan Ruzowitzky has done an incredible job adapting Burger’s incredible true account. He’s identified the key moments and turning points and crafted ideal scenes to help build the plot up. He wastes no time getting to the point. The scenes are short and sweet, giving us bursts of information, emotion and symbolism, sometimes in just a minute. Directing off his own script, he directs us to key visuals that convey all that information like a leftover piece of food that conveys the hunger not always at the forefront of a scene. The pacing is exceptional, especially for a Holocaust film, and though some of the scenes are brutal it doesn’t hit the audience over the head with scenes of terror and emotion that go straight for the heartstrings. It’s much more subtle and effectively so.

It’s hard to visit yet another Holocaust film, but “The Counterfeiters” is worth it because of Ruzowitzky’s fine craftsmanship and its overall subtly. It’s the impact of a Holocaust film without all the emotionally distressful scenes and the screaming and the heartfelt violin music. The unique story of Sorowtisch and these group of Jews who are given a bit more privilege yet in turn forced to wrestle with a bit of moral guilt makes it a warranted trip into a oft-visited historical genre.

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4.5/5 Stars

The Counterfeiters (Die Falscher)
Directed by Stefan Ruzowitzky
Written by Stefan Ruzowitzky, Adolf Burger (book)
Starring: Karl Markovics, August Diehl, Devid Striesow

“The Thin Red Line” is a war story told with images. There is a difference between that and a movie. It is a bold piece of film-making, especially for a war film, yet it makes all the same statements only without the stereotypes. If the creators of those dumb spoofs made “War Movie,” it would be hard to make fun of this one. It’s not the most engaging of films, but once again, it’s more art through images and narration than a film.

The plot is more like loosely combined narrative threads, a structure akin to a piece of music like a suite or symphony. There are distinct movements but everything is tied together with narrated reflections that repeat throughout. First there’s Pvt. Witt (Caviezel), a soldier who’s gone awol in the South Pacific, living in a kind of paradise on an island until a military ship comes along and he feels obligated to join up. The other story lines are different soldiers in the unit of young men. The island is Guadacanal and it represents a key turning point in the war against the Japanese.

The cast boasts a lot of prominent actors before their prime such as Adrien Brody and John C. Reilly, but a lot of staples such as Sean Penn, John Cusack, Woody Harrelson and Nick Nolte as the war-mongering Lt. Col. Tall, whose life devotion to the army clouds his judgment, particularly when he orders Cpt. Staros (Elias Koteas) to lead his men on a sure suicide maneuver — the film’s most “standard” dramatic moment.

The beauty of “Red Line” is not only John Toll’s moving cinematography or some of the most memorable film editing, but also its ability to be a war film despite not acting like one. I love a war film that makes a particular choice about how it portrays “the enemy,” which director Terrence Malick certainly does. For much of the film the Japanese are faceless enemies firing from a far, but as the fighting heats up, suddenly we see them, we recognize their humanity and how war has affected them too. We see the soldiers grow closer and without any extended obligatory booze, cards and cigarettes scene.

Malick’s film does what good poetry or music ought to: It uses its method of consumption as a means of affected people, of getting an emotional response. Sometimes that response is “bored,” especially considering film is not the entertainment media of the patient person, but many times it’s surprisingly effective. The cutaway flashbacks to one of the soldiers with his girlfriend or wife on numerous occasions that are set simply to music and narration are so much better than a dramatic flashback where a scene plays out, so much better at communicating the feeling of longing.

“The Thin Red Line” has some tough competition when it comes to aiming at being one of the best war films ever, but it stands out as different among the pack, which might be the more impressive feat.

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4/5 Stars

The Thin Red Line (1998)
Directed by Terrence Malick
Written by Terrence Malick, James Jones (novel)
Starring: Jim Caviezel, Nick Nolte, Adrien Brody, Elias Koteas

When you watch “Braveheart” you can’t help but feel like you’ve seen it before. That’s because “Braveheart” did it first. James Horner’s thematic bagpipe music that could make a grown man cry is nearly replicated in his score for “Titanic” (although “Titanic” won him the Oscar). The highly skilled love and revenge-fueled hero is all that is Maximus in “Gladiator.” The list goes on, but the point is that “Braveheart” set formula for the modern day historical fiction war film.

Watching this film today, you aren’t exactly blown away by it, but it doesn’t do anything wrong. “Braveheart” is the story of William Wallace, the Scottish farmer-turned-warrior who sparked a rebellion that eventually earned Scotland independence from England. Mel Gibson (director and producer) plays Wallace and does so quite well. Gibson’s performance is in his presence on screen. He doesn’t do the nuances that well, but I would’ve gotten off my couch to fight for that guy. The other performances were all good, but no one stands out, though Angus Mcfayden really communicated the inner-conflict of Robert the Bruce quite well.

You certainly don’t put on “Braveheart” for acting lessons, however. This is a film about emotion, the human spirit, good triumphing over oppression and of course: brutally violent battle sequences. This is where “Braveheart” delivers. The script is just one little pearl of wisdom and motivation after another. If I was a coach of a sports team, I’d just quote this film before games, half time, after games–it’s just full of great one liners and as much as you want to laugh and say “that’s cheesy” it just never feels that way. The film is about one man that stood for freedom and never made an exception, which resulted in him killing a lot of people. The romance angle (for added emotional effect) is not as strong, but certainly balances out the mood of the film that’s supposed to be about heart (though of course Wallace is a champion of using his head.) The combination of the two make for a film that is both entertaining and touching.

At this day and age, “Braveheart” might seem a little stale. There’s nothing revolutionary going on (well, cinematically speaking, not plot-wise). Unless you have a fond attachment to the film from when it first came out and was indeed revolutionary, you’ll find “Braveheart” an entertaining and solid tale of heroism and belief in good winning out. It’s hard to watch in an entirely secular light knowing the post-Passion of the Christ Gibson of today, but it will still make you feel good.

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4/5 Stars

Braveheart (1995)
Directed by: Mel Gibson
Written by: Randall Wallace
Starring: Mel Gibson

The Vietnam War is not something filmmakers have shied away from, so the challenge for Michael Cimino right away was to make “The Deer Hunter” something different. He succeeds. “Deer Hunter” is a portrait of life for American soldiers before and after war. It’s goal is not to expose the horrors of the war or acclaim the bravery of its soldiers, but to show the far- reaching effects of post-traumatic stress. Although the film drags frequently because it doesn’t use traditional storytelling methods, the feelings Cimino wants to get across are felt.

Unlike any other film before it, “The Deer Hunter”‘s greatest asset surprisingly lies in a plot device: the “game” of Russian Roulette. Although a small percentage of this three-hour film, the mere concept of loading one bullet into a six-shooter, pressing it against your head and pulling the trigger is a powerful means of storytelling. All the suspense, anticipation of gore and the fact that the main characters Michael (De Niro), Nick (Walken) and Steve (Savage) have to play it makes ten minutes of Russian Roulette just as intense as a 25-minute battle scene in another war movie. If “Deer Hunter” is remembered for nothing else, Russian Roulette alone assures it will never be forgotten.

There really isn’t a plot in this film in the traditional sense. The characters have no specific goals or desires, no obvious motivation. They have enlisted in the war apparently because they believe it’s the American thing to do, but even that’s only a sense we get from their limited patriotic dialogue. The only through-line in the entire film is De Niro’s character trying, from what it looks like, to get everyone back together again like nothing terrible ever happened. Again, it’s not a clearly expressed objective, but when you think about it there’s nothing else that could possibly be living for. Basically, Cimino relies on our empathy with these jolly small-town characters to understand what’s going on in the film and why it matters.

“Deer Hunter” is a visual film. The setting in both Pittsburgh and Vietnam is a crucial part of Cimino’s attempt to create the empathy, seeing as he doesn’t provide us any easy access. Dialogue is not his preferred method of revealing character and creating drama — we have to keenly observe how these characters change from the beginning when they joyously drink and celebrate Steve’s wedding to how they cope or fail to cope once they suffer the trauma of Russian Roulette.

It’s a heck of a challenge staying on board with Cimino’s vision, but the Russian Roulette scenes, as intense as they are and as primely located in the film’s plot structure as they are, really keep the film glued together as well as our eyes on the screen. Seeing that happen justifies the speechlessness of these characters as their lives continue after their experience in the war. Cimino knows how effective this is because loud noises are planted in the post- war scenes and they always make us think someone fired a gun. When John Cazale’s character Stan brings up his little revolver prior to the war scenes, we don’t care, but when we see it after De Niro comes back from ‘Nam — instant suspense. It’s a shame Cimino never continued successfully after this film. Few films could get away with non-traditional storytelling and manage to leave the impact that “Deer Hunter” does.

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4/5 Stars

The Deer Hunter (1978)
Directed by: Michael Cimino
Written by: Michael Cimino, Deric Washburn, Louis Garfinkle, Quinn K. Redeker
Starring: Robert De Niro, Christopher Walken, Meryl Streep, John Savage, John Cazale

“Spartacus” (1960) and “Lawrence of Arabia” (1962) were the two great epic war films of the 1960s. That said, the latter is superior, but not for the former’s lack of trying. The backstory of “Spartacus” explains a lot: Executive producer and star Kirk Douglas fires director Anthony Mann and brings in his “Paths of Glory” (a phenomenal film) director Stanley Kubrick. Problem is, the eventually infamous Kubrick really had no experience working with anyone’s work but his own, even if the script was written by blacklisted two-time Oscar winner Dalton Trumbo. Basically, Douglas did his best to make the most of “Spartacus,” including the corralling of a distinguished cast, but it results in a very good — not great — film.

For one, Trumbo’s script is a crowd-pleaser, and I say that implying that it was for the ’60s. Rarely does a war epic focus so heavily on the protagonist’s romantic interest. As impressive as Jean Simmons is as Spartacus’ lover and wife, Varinia, the subplot of these two slaves falling for each other has too much clout in a story that should focus sternly on Spartacus as the inspiring leader of a slave rebellion against the Roman empire. His love for Varinia ultimately makes him more likable, but it comes at the cost of part of the film’s thematic boldness.

Sadly, one of the scenes that was most interesting was not part of the film until it was remastered in 1991. In it, Laurence Olivier, playing powerful Senate leader Crassus, tries to seduce a young slave played by Tony Curtis as they are in the bath using a cunning metaphor. Naturally, this was deemed inappropriate by the Legion of Decency. Few scenes are as memorable as that one and only a couple of Spartacus’ speeches on freedom are standouts as well. “Death is the only a freedom a slave knows. That’s why he’s not afraid of it” is one of just a handful of powerful moments in three-hour film.

For Kubrick fans, this is that one asterisk in Kubrick’s grand career. There’s very little director trademark in this film and there is very minimal hands-on work. If anything, the cinematography –namely the shadowy interiors — is most noteworthy. And interestingly, most of this was Kubrick’s doing and not that of Russell Metty because of alleged disagreements.

The unarguably great part of this film are the performances. Sir Peter Ustinov won an Oscar for his role as Lentulus, owner of the gladiator school where Spartacus is sold at the film’s beginning. He is a comical man just trying to do whatever he can to insure he’s buried head out of the sand rather than in. He’s the pawn of the Roman powers and he earns much of our pity as the film wears on. Olivier is of course commanding the the Roman leader and Charles Laughton perfect as his rival senator, kind-hearted yet distinctly amoral.

It might be Alex North’s score that sums “Spartacus” up best. It’s theme-driven music perfectly suited for an epic film, but feels completely out of context. Whereas Maurice Jarre’s epic “Lawrence of Arabia” soundtrack captures the greatness of that film, North’s is a reminder that “Spartacus” was an idea born in Hollywood and shot mostly in California. It just doesn’t convey a sense of time or place, only that this film was made to be a head-turning film with thousands of cast members and extras. Once again, it is a film of tremendous talents, but only verges on epic greatness.

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3.5/5 Stars

Spartacus (1960)
Directed by: Stanley Kubrick
Written by: Dalton Trumbo
Starring: Kirk Douglas, Jean Simmons, Laurence Olivier, Peter Ustinov

“Patton” might not be the greatest war movie ever made, but it’s without question cinema’s finest character study. It’s a portrait of a man painted so vividly that I bet — at least since 1970 — that there are far more historians whose research emphasis is on Gen. George S. Patton than any other war hero/major military figure. Hollywood has given us any number of unique and enigmatic characters, but none so compelling and quickly gathering of our sympathies as Patton.

Patton was an American general in World War II, but more specifically he was fighter, a soldier a man who believed in war as part of human nature. He was also a poet and a war history romantic. He was prideful, he was vulgar, he was both loved and despised. The list goes on, because that’s how incredibly complex Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North’s character is as well as the layers of depth George C. Scott gives him.

Scott refused his much-deserved and won Oscar, but he insisted he didn’t belong in an elite category. What he didn’t really consider was that sometimes an actor, usually a character actor, comes across a role so perfectly suited to their talents, a part that wouldn’t be the same done by any other actor, that greatness happens. Scott found that role. Few actors ever do. He plays Patton with such command yet the more Patton realizes his fallibility, Scott withdraws ever so slightly, bringing the character a tad closer to earth each time, but never losing that essence of pride and self confidence.

“Patton” is a long movie and you spend much of it just craving for Patton to do or say something. From his eternally quotable opening monologue before a backdrop of the American flag onward, we can’t see or hear enough of the man. He’s utterly fascinating. He speaks American war ideals like they’re fundamental truths about the universe. Hippies would be ready to die for their country after listening to that, no matter how many swears he uses. And he never appears crazy. In fact, throughout the film as Patton’s commanding officers reprimand him for his behavior including hitting a soldier, we find ourselves wondering “why doesn’t anyone else see this man’s brilliance?” He’s not nice, but he’s right. The idea of Patton as a war man and not a politician plays out then throughout the rest of the film.

Honestly, whenever Patton’s not on screen and specifically saying something, the film is uninteresting. There’s one terrific action moment where Scott, angry at the incompetent British in Morocco, goes outside with his pistol and tries to shoot two German planes down. After that, the war scenes are nothing but random explosions and images without any narrative relevance to the story. In a nearly three hour film, it’s fair to consider all the scenes where the best part of the film plays little or no role a bit tedious and pointless.

It’s impossible to describe in a review the many depths and levels of Patton’s character. There are many elements in the story that evolve from and revolve around the man he was that little can be summarized. The most basic piece of this character to understand is that despite how convincing and successful he was as a military figure, his wily and off-kilter ways were always at odds with that success. Essentially, it reveals the many dimension of Patton and the many dimensions of war that require more than just a “blood ‘n guts” attitude.

4/5 Stars

“Patton” (1970)

Directed by: Franklin J. Schaffner

Written by: Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North (screenplay), Ladislas Farago (book), Omar N. Bradley (book)

Starring: George C. Scott