MUBI

While many wars films are in some regard anti-war, this film is the epitome of that label. Instead of slamming us with brutal images of war, Kubrick’s “Paths of Glory” delves us into the dark and gruesome underside of politics in war. It assaults us with tales of deceit and cowardice. The irony around the entire film is that the men who are accusing these soldiers of cowardice are the men who are most condemnable of cowardice out of anyone in the film. This irony struck me during the brilliantly crafted execution scene.

The camera work is absolutely magnificent and is able to envelop us in this brutal environment during WWI. From sprawling battle scenes, to diseased trenches, and even to the magnificent walls of a corrupt court room, every scene is memorable and presented to us in the highest degree of quality. It’s a gritty side of war you are not soon to forget after the film is concluded.

The acting, screenplay, and construction within the story are all masterfully presented as well giving an outstanding level of suspense through to its sorrowful climax. You cannot leave this film with any kind of support for this political system built up around these soldiers. It’s an unmissable hard-hitting war film for anyone with a pulse.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave. – Thomas Gray -

It is 1916, in the thick of World War I. Compelled by ambition more than strategic sense, General Mireau (George Macready) sends scores of his soldiers on a suicide mission to overtake a German stronghold called “The Ant Hill”. His subordinate, the earnest Col. Dax (Kirk Douglas) balks at the command, distressed by the prospect of sacrificing more than half his men with no guarantee of victory. Through insistence and thinly veiled threats, Mireau forces Dax to lead the charge as men fall all around him, bloody and shattered. The few who make it out of the trenches are forced to retreat under heavy fire, their rapidly diminishing numbers making any further advancement completely moot. Others cannot and will not leave the trenches as bodies flung by explosives tumble upon them from above. Convinced that the soldiers’ retreat is nothing more than spineless resignation, Mireau orders his artillery commander to open fire on their own men to impel them forward. (Astoundingly, this is based on real-life General Géraud Réveilhac who made just such a command during WWI.)

Absolving himself of all responsibility and enraged by the humiliating failure of the attack, Mireau demands the court-martialing and execution of Dax’s men for “cowardice”. Three men are drawn essentially at random, to be made examples of before the entire regiment. Dax, an attorney in civilian life, volunteers to defend his men at the trial, although the kangaroo court appears to have its own agenda. Ultimately, the verdict seems not to make a whit of difference in a war that is to become a death sentence for over a million French soldiers by 1918.

I’ve commented in the past that the ubiquity of war films (or more specifically, anti-war films) unfairly puts the onus on the filmmaker to say something new or to express familiar messages in an original way. Stanley Kubrick himself has revisited the genre repeatedly throughout his career, though not specifically seeking to create a career in anti-war sentiment — his political leanings were never so overt. That he did not just naively repeat, “war is bad” (or “war, what is it good for?”) with Dr. Strangelove, Full Metal Jacket, Fear and Desire and Paths of Glory immediately shoves him ahead of the pack.

The second act of Paths of Glory — the court-martial and its aftermath — is when the film becomes sharply insightful, deviating from typical melodramas of the battlefield which tend to dwell on relentless, in-your-face carnage and actors milking their death scenes. Kirk Douglas is a powerful onscreen presence to begin with, but his service in the U.S. Navy during WWII undoubtedly helped bring a natural veracity to his performance. When Col. Dax casts off duty in exchange for humanity and releases his outrage, it doesn’t feel showy like a mug for an Oscar. The arrogant villainy of Mireau is less convincing — were it not for the General Réveilhacs of the world, I just wouldn’t believe it. Alas, such men did/do exist and one must surmise that they have to spin self-deluding lies to be able to go to sleep at night. In that respect, Macready’s haughty delivery may be dead-on. Ralph Meeker, Joe Turkel, and Timothy Carey who play the three scapegoats are memorable and instantly sympathetic, not only for their unfortunate predicament but for the alternating weakness and nobility in their reactions to the entire mess. Last but not least, the cinematography by Georg Krause is exceptional: the scenes of Col. Dax’s charge towards the Ant Hill provide a tremendous sense of depth and scale, bringing a near-tangible realism to the frames. The camera is often physically present in the scenes, wandering around rooms or the trenches as if it were another character in the story.

It would be fair to describe Paths of Glory as a joint achievement between Kubrick and his star, Kirk Douglas. It was their mutual decision to retain Humphrey Cobb’s original ending in the book of the same name. When seen in historical context, the integrity of their vision is all the more remarkable. Paths of Glory was presented to a world still smarting from the wounds of WWII and still intolerant of anti-war or anti-military attitudes. Time has validated the artistic risks they took in 1957: the message still holds up today.

The cinematography was quite impressive. I liked the use of two different viewing perspectives, first and second, in the trenches. I think this film is both anti-war and anti-power. I thought Douglas was good, but he didn’t seem very French to me.

I thought two other aspects of the film were problematic. One, the soldier that was constantly crying at the end. This became too overwrought for me. Two, the German girl singing in the bar at the end where the soldiers are rowdy, then become quiet and reflective with some shedding tears. It was bittersweet and I understand it, but I thought it was a bit too sentimental and even Spielberg-esque for this film.