Paths of Glory March 22, 2007
Posted by clydefro in : Classic Films, 1950s , trackback
Given the opportunity to attend a conversation with the beyond legendary Kirk Douglas, I not only jumped at such a chance but also finally gave Paths of Glory
With that admission comes another one: I tend to avoid Stanley Kubrick films. I’ve never watched a lot of his movies (2001, The Shining, Dr. Strangelove, and Barry Lyndon) and I rarely re-watch the ones I have seen. Eyes Wide Shut is the major exception, probably because it was the only one I was able to discover for myself in the theater, despite bad publicity, lackluster box office and many misguided reviews. All of the Kubrick films I’ve seen have been highly worthwhile, extraordinary experiences that I’ve enjoyed immensely. Nevertheless, I’m keenly aware of his position as a point of entry for so many cliched young film enthusiasts and I’m not a fan of cliches so I’ve tried to not fall into that trap. This speaks nothing to the quality of Kubrick’s films, only to the quality of his admirers. You know, the ones with the poster for A Clockwork Orange in their dorm room. Yeah, that wasn’t me.
Related to that point, I also usually shy away from writing about films that have been discussed elsewhere enough to destroy a small forest’s worth of trees and/or induce massive amounts of carpal tunnel syndrome. Those films, with enough critical baggage of brilliant essays already churned out to intimidate most would-be writers or force them to rehash every single idea that’s already been written more persuasively and observantly ten times previous by others, are only interesting to read about if you’re attacking them in a provocative manner. Since that’s not my aim, I normally stick to underappreciated topics in the hope that I can figure out why I’ve liked or disliked a movie. Writing as cathartic therapy for my love of movies, I guess.
With that lengthy introduction necessarily complete, I have to say that there are times when I watch a canonical classic and the astonishment lingers enough that I have to type up something just so it will loosen its grip on me. Kubrick’s Paths of Glory has been pinging around my head since I watched it, two days before last night’s conversation between Mr. Douglas and Dr. Annette Insdorf, film professor at Columbia University and frequent contributor to DVD supplemental features. The film is a masterpiece of restraint, its 87 minutes covering more about the hypocrisies of war than any overblown epic or multipart documentary has ever managed to achieve. Insdorf called it the greatest war film in the English language and I’d have difficulty mounting much of an argument. War films should be more than just realistic explosions and hellish imagery. Better than anything by Spielberg, Stone or Coppola, Paths of Glory brilliantly shows the bureaucratic senselessness that almost always accompanies the much more glamorous battle scenes in war, but only rarely in film.
Loosely based on a true story and adapted from the novel by Humphrey Cobb, Kubrick’s fourth feature film is set in France during World War I. A French general (played by Adolphe Menjou) instructs the subordinate Mireau to take a hill from German invaders and promises him a promotion. General Mireau then commands Colonel Dax (Douglas) to formulate the mission despite the low possibility of success and certain death of a majority of the soldiers. Dax understandably balks at the suicide mission, but Mireau insists. When the attack fails, as numerous French soldiers lie dead, Mireau demands accountability to deflect negative attention from himself. Three men are chosen as examples, all innocents, to be tried for cowardice. Dax, a criminal attorney before the war, asks to defend the three soldiers, but their fates have already been sealed. Banned in France until 1975, the film remains an upsetting, uneasy experience.
It’s not surprising that Douglas, who also produced the film, is great as Col. Dax, giving one of the best performances of his career as the somewhat unconventional hero. On the one hand, it’s the most morally centered role I’ve ever seen from Douglas, an actor who claimed to have made a career of playing “sons-of-bitches.” Yet, even though Dax never strays from moral high ground, his actions ultimately make no difference. His mission, that he fought against conducting, is gravely unsuccessful and he’s unable to spare an additional three soldiers from their deaths. Heroes usually save people in movies, but Dax is met with failure at every turn. It’s certainly no direct fault of his own that his actions are ineffectual, but all the dead soldiers are casualties nonetheless. Dax’s continued failure, coupled with the film’s final scenes reminding us of the seemingly endless cycle of war, make for a much more powerful and emotional wallop than the rah-rah jingoistic sacrifices we’re used to seeing in war movies.
Aside from the short, documentary-like battle scenes that are brutal and technically impressive, one of the most striking things about Paths of Glory is how modern and fresh it remains, now fifty years since its release. A big complaint I have with American films from the 1950s is a certain awkward staginess that often makes for uninteresting films with over-emoting actors yelling away their “pain.” The studio system was collapsing and a new era in Hollywood was emerging that required movies to sort of shed their skin and stumble around a little before regaining their footing the following two decades. Of course there are exceptions, like many of the films from Hitchcock, Wilder and Ray, but too many stage adaptations crippled the drama genre, in my mind, and the method acting style, while eventually leading to many superb performances, made for lots of overblown, unbearable to watch films and performances.
The ones that survive unscathed are mostly either one-offs like Laughton’s Night of the Hunter and Mackendrick’s Sweet Smell of Success, or from visionary directors who put their own unique stamp on their selection of actors and material. After watching Paths of Glory, though, I’m inclined to ease up a little on the 1950s, just because of how unabashedly brilliant a film Kubrick made. I’d probably still rank the decade below all others of the sound era except the 1980s, and possibly the 1930s, but I’m nonetheless impressed to see a non-noir, studio-financed drama from the ’50s that’s at such a high level. It’s the kind of movie that I honestly doubt would be made by a major Hollywood studio today, especially by a young, unproven director.
More than just a war or anti-war movie, Paths of Glory powerfully condemns the powers that get young persons killed to satisfy some childhood fantasy of heroism. Like Village Voice film critic J. Hoberman, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Bob Dylan composed his brilliant indictment of warmongers “Masters of War” after watching Kubrick’s film. The song, part of 1963’s The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, foretold the horrors to come of bellicose leaders anxious to send others to kill and be killed only a few years after the album was released. As history somewhat repeats itself, perhaps part of the strength of Paths of Glory, a power that wasn’t there the first time I saw it, is in viewing it with modern eyes and current knowledge of the existence of these same people, with the same ideals but different names. In that regard, I’d love to see the film eventually become irrelevant to modern audiences, but experience and history tell me that’s unlikely.
On a lighter note, Paths of Glory came up a couple of times in last night’s conversation. Douglas mostly deferred to Insdorf’s glowing praise without sharing any new or interesting stories about that film or my personal favorite Ace in the Hole, aside from a general compliment to director and friend Billy Wilder’s brilliance (and a regret that he turned down the lead role in Stalag 17 that eventually won William Holden an Academy Award). Instead, he talked a little about the more popular Spartacus, mentioning the well-known ordeal of Dalton Trumbo’s writing credit including Kubrick’s suggestion that the script be credited to the director. The ninety-year-old stroke survivor is probably as much an icon as any living person, with his mind and body both incredibly spry, so it was understandable that he basically stuck to the script of mentioning his new book as often as possible while telling entertaining anecdotes about his family and friends. After being in the presence of some extraordinary people the last few years, I’m not one to be starstruck, but it never left my mind how amazing it was to spend an hour and a half of seeing Kirk Douglas in person. Spartacus be damned, I saw Chuck Tatum in the flesh.
Comments»
Clydefro - I bought and watched this film, based a lot on your recommendation, and also because I just had to see something that could be called the best war film of all time. And it just might be! After seeing it, the overblown likes of Saving Private Ryan appear that bit less focused.
PoG is so tight and well exectuted, Douglas is fantastic, and I love the way the French soldiers all have thick American accents, something that wouldn’t happen in a 21st century flick. The mood and morals of the film are nicely understated also, leaving it up to the viewer to make up their own mind. It’s horrific to think that incidents like this probably happened a lot during the war, and besides that it gives a really good impression of how remote the leaders were from what was going on in the trenches.
It seems very clear than Ben Elton had a copy of Paths of Glory to hand when he was writing Blackadder Goes Forth, though sadly the movie is shown so rarely on British television that few people will get the chance to make the connection.
Really good call - I’d recommend this film to anyone, especially those who claim Private Ryan is the best.
I’m thrilled that you enjoyed it Mike and if I helped someone give the film a chance then I’m especially glad. There are still a couple of Kubrick’s movies I’ve yet to see, but I can’t help leaning towards Paths of Glory as his most effective. I think it really is without peer among English language war movies.