Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket


I mentioned this film in passing in a previous post, but I feel it is a movie that deserves its own discussion. For many, this is their favorite Stanley Kubrick movie. I have had problems with it in the past, but after a recent rewatching I have found that I am more impressed with it now than I was previously.

Since 2001 (1968), Stanley Kubrick has broken almost all of his movies up into several distinct sections. In A Clockwork Orange (1971) there is the beginning section with Alex as a delinquent, followed by his stint in prison, and concluded with his time after being released. I have never taken issue with the fragmented nature of Kubrick’s storytelling, finding each section to complement the other ones, and never having a significant drop in quality. Full Metal Jacket (1987) is the exception to this statement.

The opening segment is phenomenal. It shows the process of a group going through marine bootcamp. Amongst the group is Pvt. Joker, who is the film’s main character-of sorts, and Pvt. Pyle, a fat, stupid layabout. Pvt. Pyle consistently makes mistakes and is unable to complete the physical demands imposed upon him by the strict drill instructor, who verbally and physically harrasses Pyle at every opportunity. After enduring months of abuse, Pyle finds his calling in riflery. The night before graduation, however, Pyle shoots the drill instructor with his rifle before shooting himself in the mouth. The film then cuts to Joker in Vietnam.

After this, the film takes a nose dive. The opening is a brilliant exploration of the dehumanizing effects of bootcamp, while the rest of the film struggles to find what it is it wants to say. After numerous forgettable interactions, Joker and his unit attempt to kill a sniper who is slowly picking them off.

Before this, however, Kubrick flirts with different ideas. Joker is originally deployed to Vietnam as a photographer, which allows him to critique the media’s representation on the Vietnam war. However, Kubrick quickly drops this promising concept. This prevents Full Metal Jacket from reaching its full potential as a great movie.

Terrence Malick’s The Thin Red Line

In his career lasting over four decades, Terrence Malick has directed five feature length films. He released his debut film, Badlands, in 1973 to great acclaim before releasing what some consider his magnum opus, Days of Heaven (1978). He then disappeared from the film scene for 20 years until releasing The Thin Red Line in 1998. Since then, he has directed two more films, the temperately received The New World (2005) and the phenomenal (in my opinion, at least) The Tree of Life (2011).

I had only seen Days of Heaven and The Tree of Life prior to watching The Thin Red Line, but they were two movies I had immense respect for. I found The Thin Red Line to not only continue but to increase my admiration for the elusive Malick. Within his works, Malick has created a style that allows his films to speak on a different level than most films. As opposed to using a traditional narrative style, Malick instead waxes philosophical, utilizing long takes showing beautiful images of nature, while a voiceover takes the viewer through a philosophical meditation on man’s meaning and place in the universe.

The Thin Red Line continues Malick’s exploration of ordinary characters dealing with the struggles of life. There is no true main character in the movie, as Malick uses an ensemble cast for his story.  However, Malick expertly weaves through his cast, showing the characters within the warzone they inhabit before quietly retreating into their minds for them to deliver Malick’s trademark voiceovers. One of the film’s main concerns is man’s identity – as he steps into foreign lands, slaughtering strangers in the name of abstract concepts, how different is he from the combatants? Perhaps, as one characters remarks, all men have one soul that they share, that all faces are faces of the same man. During the voiceovers, all of the actors speak in a calm, meditative voice, creating a similarity between the speakers. The speaker is identified through camerawork, yet sometimes Malick doesn’t carefully define who is speaking, creating the impression that perhaps they all truly are the same person.

Malick is one of the great filmmakers alive today. He has surprisingly announced two upcoming films, generating much excitement within the film world.

Grigory Chukhrai’s Ballad of a Soldier

Ballad of a Soldier, released in 1959, is one of the key cinematic works of the Khrushchev Thaw. After the death of Stalin and the ascension of Khrushchev, the Soviet Union went through a period of cultural revitalization. Film production increased dramatically, and restrictions on the content of productions were slackened. Films no longer had to unanimously praise the Soviet Union and its leaders.

It is within this milieu that Ballad of a Soldier was made. The film tells the story of Alyosha, a soldier during the Great Patriotic War who manages to single-handedly defeat two enemy tanks. As a reward, he is granted six days leave to return home to visit his mother. Along the way he meets a large number of different characters, including Shura, a young girl whom he falls in love with.

The film presents a different view of Soviet military life than other pre-Thaw films. Alyosha is depicted as very much an individual, not merely a Soviet soldier. In another departure from pre-Thaw films, the internal sufferings of the other soldiers Alyosha encounters are shown.

Ballad of a Soldier is a good movie. After leaving Shura, Chukhrai shows a series of superimpositions of Alyosha’s thoughts over the passing trees. His memories, as well as his dreams, are shown as fleeting images. This is the strongest part of the film, as it opens Alyosha up the most for the viewer. Despite this, I could not shake the feeling that Ballad of a Soldier is today largely remembered for the context of its creation as opposed to its content. While it is a decidedly good movie, it was not as good as other movies it gets compared to, such as Tarkovksy’s Ivan’s Childhood (1962) (see my post here). The film is tender and honest, yet does not offer enough for me to consider it one of the great works of Soviet film, as it is sometimes called today.

Sidney Lumet’s Fail-Safe

Sidney Lumet’s Fail-Safe (1964) is a movie that largely gets overlooked despite its quality and critical acclaim. This is because it was released the same year and adapted from the same source material as Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove: Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), Peter George’s novel Red Alert

I’m going to be blunt. Dr. Strangelove is a better movie. But that is hardly surprising. I think that Dr. Strangelove is one of the greatest movies of all time. Fail-Safe serves as an interesting comparison piece, however. No, scratch that, Fail-Safe stands on its own as a great movie. Most will only see it though to compare it to Kubrick’s film. The differences between the two works are interesting – most obviously, Fail-Safe is not a comedy. However, there is a far subtler distinction that renders Fail-Safe more interesting in some ways. In Kubrick’s film, the situation arose from human incompetence – a general goes insane and brings us past the point of no return. In Fail-Safe, however, the problem arises completely from a mechanical error. A technician in the film points out that mechanical problems, however improbable, are still possible. The problem, and most interesting point, comes from the fact that the bombers are instructed to continue their mission after a certain point, no matter what. This includes vocal instructions to abort. During the film, the President of the United States (brilliantly played by Henry Fonda) contacts the pilots and gives them a direct order to abort their mission and leave Soviet airspace. However, being good soldiers, they refuse to not follow through on their orders. In the film, our society has reached a point where humanity is totally eliminated from the picture, technology has total reign. This power we have given to technology ultimately leads to the nuking of Moscow which then leads to the nuking of New York City.

Despite the reputation of its director, Fail-Safe is largely ignored today. While definitely not better than Kubrick’s Dr. StrangeloveFail-Safe is able to stand on its own, while simultaneously being a great companion piece to Kubrick’s film.

Andrei Tarkovksky’s Ivan’s Childhood

Andrei Tarkovsky released his debut film, Ivan’s Childhood, in 1962 after graduating from the Soviet film school VGIK.

The film tells the story of Ivan, a 12-year old boy embroiled in the Soviet’s war against the Nazis during WWII. Ivan is first seen frolicking in a lush woods before beginning to fly. Ivan then meets with his mother who presents him with a bucket of water. As he begins to talk with his mother, an abrasive screech disturbs the scene, and Ivan bolts awake in a dark barn.

Tarkovksy continues to use this format through the rest of the film. When he is amongst others, Ivan is tight-lipped and secretive. Instead of conveying Ivan’s past through dialogue, Tarkovsky prefers to rely on dream sequences, which allow for a more expressive retelling of Ivan’s life. In his text Sculpting in Time, Tarkovksy outlines his belief that there are several truths in the world that do not lend themselves easily to dialogue. We are also able to see the two sides of Ivan: on the outside, he is determined and collected. Through his dream sequences, however, Ivan is revealed as a troubled boy whose life has been ripped apart by the horrors of war. It is shown that both of Ivan’s parents, as well as his sister, were killed by the Nazis, leaving Ivan with an overwhelming need for revenge.

From the beginning, it is clear that this is not a film concerned with how the world actually is, but how Ivan sees the world. As such, Tarkovksy places Ivan in very expressive environments, showcasing Ivan’s impression of the world around him. One famous image from the film shows Ivan surrounded by broken, jagged wood jutting out towards him. As Ivan steps towards the splinters, the wood surrounds him, and takes on a menacing feeling. The impression is created that the world itself is reaching out to threaten Ivan.

WIth his debut film, Tarkovsky set himself an impressive backing for his future career. Today Ivan’s Childhood is remembered as one of the best films of the post-Kruschev thaw Soviet Union.

Stuart Cooper’s Overlord

Stuart Cooper’s Overlord (1975) is defined by fluctuations. The story concerns Thomas, a young boy who signs up with a British army regiment and takes part in the storm on Normandy Beach on D-Day. The film fluctuates between time periods, flitting between Thomas’ past, present, and future, to create an artistic impression of the life of a soldier.

The film is also notable for the fluctuations between visuals. Shot by cinematographer John Alcott (who made his name doing cinematography for Stanley Kubrick, starting with A Clockwork Orange (1971), Barry Lyndon (1975), and The Shining (1980), also taking over as lighting camerman during the filming of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)), the film skips effortlessly between images of Thomas and those around him as they prepare for war and  actual documentary footage from the Second World War. This contrast adds a sense of realism to the film, and illustrates the hugeness of the situation surrounding our protagonist.

A major concern of the film is man’s size in the huge machine of the military. During one notable scene, Thomas writes a letter to his parents where he feels like he is shrinking in size until he will ultimately disappear; as the letter is dictated in his head, the camera pulls back until he is a tiny figure in the shot, before ultimately fading to more documentary footage where Thomas is no longer seen, nor are any people particularly recognizable.

Overlord is a tremendous film that is helped along by superb visuals and a phenomenal acting job by its lead, Brian Stimer, playing Thomas. Despite winning the Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival upon its release, the film has faded into relative obscurity since then. Perhaps this is because it is not as immediate and arresting as many of the other war films from the time (of which there are plenty). It has also been suggested that perhaps its message isn’t as blatant and pigeonholable as other movies from the time period and as such was forgotten. Whatever the reason, Overlord is a truly fabulous example of war cinema and deserves significantly more recognition than it receives.

Elem Klimov’s Come and See

Elem Klimov’s Come and See (1985) is one of the most powerful movies I have ever seen. During the Nazi occupation of Byelorussian SSR, young Florian Gaishun finds a rifle and joins the partisan rebellion. As is typical with these films, Florya begins to lose his innocence as he witnesses the horrors of war. Despite its typical thematic materials, Come and See distinguishes itself from other war films by the brutal and relentless mental warfare it wages upon the viewer.

As Florya witnesses the death and destruction that begins to surround him, the viewer is taken alongside him, witnessing everything with the same savagery that Florya does. Klimov powerfully has his characters look and speak directly into the camera. This breaks down the boundary between the viewer and what is happening to the characters on-screen. As opposed to witnessing everything from behind a veil, the audience is directly addressed by the characters, directly implicating the viewer.

Apart from the visuals, Klimov uses sound to constantly weigh down the viewer, extending his mental assault upon them. After Florya narrowly survives an air raid, he is rendered temporarily deaf. The soundtrack is filled with a shrill ringing and an oppressive ambient tone. While the ringing fades away, the heavy, muddy sound never leaves the soundtrack, forcing the viewer to listen beyond it to get the full story. The sounds are atonal and leave the viewer physically uncomfortable, but beyond that they are no longer able to clearly hear what is going on.

Come and See left me nauseous. It is one of the most effective psychological horror films I have ever seen. Watching the film is painful. There were many occasions when I simply wanted to turn away and forget what I had seen. Yet the film leaves you hooked. The acting is often ridiculous and over-the-top, intentionally so – as opposed to turning you off, it leaves you  uncomfortable and unable to relate to the events onscreen. Klimov’s film is brilliant, and I believe it to be one of the greatest films I have ever seen.

Mark Sandrich’s So Proudly We Hail

ImageMark Sandrich’s So Proudly We Hail! (1943) works as typical piece of U.S. propaganda, with one glaring exception. It is not a combat film; instead, the film tells the tale of a group of woman nurses and their experiences throughout the South Pacific.

Propaganda served to keep the morale high for everyone involved in the war effort, and So Proudly We Hail! is intended to show the sacrifices by those not directly fighting in combat. The women are portrayed as tough, taking cover from artillery fire and bombings alongside the soldiers, and handling the pressures just as well. However, the women experience minor hysteria, but it is always brief and is later laughed off as nerves.

Despite intending to show the female participants in the war as just as hardy and important as the men, the film is still littered with Hollywood’s typically sexist portrayal of women. For many of the characters, their husbands, boyfriends, and lovers are the most important thing they are holding on to. They fuss over their hair and outfits in typical “woman” fashion – one of them claims that the thing she longs for most on safe shores is a beauty parlor so she can finally get her hair done. While under fire from the Japanese, another nurse runs from the safety of her escape truck back to their house in order to retrieve a black dress, endangering not only her life, but the rest of her troop’s. However, this dress has added significance, as she wore it the night she first danced with her lover when they were all together and safe (thus, retrieving the dress has double-significance trivializing her as a silly woman).

Despite the sometimes stereotypical treatment of the female characters, they are shown in a positive light and the movie deserves credit for that. Featuring an A-list cast, the acting is believable and sympathetic. The film deserves most of its praise, however, for showing that war is not merely a man’s game, and that people from all walks of life make sacrifices in the name of our country.

Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory

Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory (1957) was his first full-length feature devoted to war, a subject that he would revisit several times throughout his career. Today, his later film Full Metal Jacket (1987) is generally held in higher regard, or at least is more widely remembered. Paths of Glory, however, is one of Kubrick’s greatest works in my eyes.

The central theme running through Kubrick’s work is the struggle of man to maintain his individuality and control over his life in the face of larger forces. Perhaps this is seen no more clearly than in the military, and explains why Kubrick revisited the subject of war so frequently.

The film tells the tale of Colonel Dax, played by Kirk Douglas, a member of the French military during WWI. In order to advance his reputation and earn another medal, General Mireau, played by George Macready, orders a suicidal attack on a German encampment known as the “anthill.” While talking to Dax, Mireau reveals that he expects the attack to cost approximately 65% of Dax’s troops. Dax is hesitant, but goes through with the order. However, he is quickly required to retreat.

The lives of the soldiers of Dax’s regiment are tossed away by Mireau in order to gain himself recognition. He is fully aware it is a suicide mission. When the soldiers retreat to their trench, Mireau orders another unit to open fire on them in order to get them to move. The other unit refuses, and Mireau has several of the members of Dax’s regiment put up on charges of cowardice. During the trial, they have very little say, instead having to rely on Dax to protect them, a task in which he is ultimately unsuccessful.

The acting in the film is excellent. As is always the case with Kubrick, the editing, cinematography, and music are exceptional. The early tracking shots through the trenches are among Kubrick’s best. The Criterion Collection recently released the film on DVD. Perhaps this re-release will allow the film to finally rise and attain the widespread recognition that it deserves.

John Ford’s Drums Along the Mohawk

John Ford stands atop a pedestal as America’s cinematic poet laureate – the man who was able to tap into the heart and soul of America and reveal it through his works. His 1939 film Drums Along the Mohawk depicts events during the Revolutionary War, illustrating the American’s desperate fight for freedom. Starring Ford regular Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert, the film tells the tale of Gilbert Martin and his wife Lana who return to Martin’s cabin in upstate New York, only to be displaced by the Native Americans who have teamed with the British to crush the American rebellion.

The film, as is the case with the majority of Ford’s works, is controversial for its blatant, over-the-top racism, most notably towards Native Americans, and its misogynistic portrayal of women. While racism and sexism were prevalent in early films, these issues are so problematic in Ford’s works because of the promise of freedom and equality offered by them. Early on, Martin claims during a meeting that they shouldn’t have any problems from the Native Americans, having always treated them as equals. Anyone with a vague knowledge of American history knows that this is almost surely not true. There does exist one “civilized,” Christian Native American; however, he mostly serves as comic relief, destroying any honorable reasoning for his existence.

One of the most offensive images in the film is also one of the last. After defeating the British, the Americans raise the newly-stitched American flag. The standard is looked on with pride and admiration by the Americans, including a black woman, who is almost surely a slave. While we are meant to admire the promises of the flag, we are contradictorily disgusted by the hypocrisies that single shot reveal, upstaging the entire film. It also occurs at the very end, sticking with the viewer as they leave.

These problems are unfortunate, because apart from them, the film is rather good. Fonda is excellent, as always, and Colbert does a good job as the shrieking, hysterical wife. Politics aside, the film stands to show why Ford is such an enduring figure.