Thin Line

This small book—part of Reaktion’s “Location” series of genre studies—offers an introductory overview of the war film (both “documentary” and “fictional”) drawing on examples from the United States, Britain, Germany, France, Italy, Poland, and Russia. (The thin line between fact and fiction is a running motif that links the chapters.) Given its size, its breadth of coverage in terms of both films and wars is truly impressive. This is a testament to James Chapman’s expansive knowledge of the subject and astute ability to select just the right examples to make his points.

War and Film is organized into three content chapters featuring a specific subgenre of the war film: “war as spectacle,” “war as tragedy,” and “war as adventure.” Each chapter is anchored by an in-depth treatment of a specific war film, followed by coverage of numerous examples, organized more or less chronologically. Chapman moves quickly, but he successfully retains his analytical focus so that the chapters never degenerate into a list of films and plots. His overall goal, in addition to presenting a brief survey of the subject, is to demonstrate that if war has shaped history, the war film has shaped film history.

Chapter 1, “War as Spectacle,” starts with Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan as its keynote film. The goal of this chapter is to analyze “artificiality versus artifice” (12) in the war film and to capture the tensions between the urge toward ever more “realistic” portrayals of war and the urge to aestheticize the carnage. After analyzing Private Ryan, Chapman then flashes back to 1898 and the actuality footage of the Spanish American War. Films discussed in greater length in this chapter include the expected and the unexpected: The Battle of the Somme, The True Glory, The Battle of Algiers, Nine Men, Andrzej Wajda’s war trilogy, Henry V, and Welcome to Sarajevo.

Chapter 2, “War as Tragedy,” is anchored by Elem Klimov’s Come and See, a choice I particularly appreciated as a Russianist who has written several times about this brilliant, but relatively unknown, film. The purpose of this chapter is to trace the trajectory of the anti-war war film and posits that while European and American films about World War I have much in common, films about World War II are more national in their orientation, with more conflicted interpretations arising from the nations of occupied Europe. Films featured in this chapter include All Quiet on the Western Front, King and Country, Stalingrad (both the 1958 and 1991 films), Lacombe, Lucien, Life is Beautiful, and Full Metal Jacket.

Chapter 3, “War as Adventure” is organized around James Cameron’s Rambo: First Blood, Part II. The focus of this chapter is to explore the contradictions between the ideological or propagandist effects of films of this type and their entertainment value. Analyses of films like O.H.M.S., Sailor of the King, The Great Escape, Where Eagles Dare, Objective, Burma!, The Guns of Navarone, The Eagle Has Landed, and Master and Commander follow.

Chapman makes a number of interesting and provocative points in his conclusion. First, he suggests that while war has obviously provided rich subject matter for film, “film has also shaped war.” (245) He argues that war, especially World War II, has shaped the economics and aesthetics of film, e.g., by giving birth to Italian neo-realism. He notes that clips from fiction films are frequently included in documentaries because viewers see them as more real (i.e., more dramatic) than actuality footage. He points to the influence of war films on society, whether to inspire men and women to enlist or to solidify pro- and anti- views on a particular war.

Some may quibble with the selection of films or their categorization, but Chapman is to be congratulated on a first-rate book. It is lucid and accessible, rigorously researched and thoughtfully argued. The book benefits from a large number of film stills, sharply produced, which is especially important given their tiny size.

In sum, War and Film is essential reading for...