It was high time I saw one of the latest nominees for Best Picture. OK, I saw this the day before they were announced, but the hype suggested it would make the cut. I didn't let the name Sam Mendes put me off, partly because war movies tend to bring out another side of directors. And usually do well.
The plot is almost deceptively easy to summarize: In France, English lance corporals Tom Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Will Schofield (George MacKay) are assigned to deliver orders from General Erinmore (Colin Firth) to Colonel Mackenzie (Benedict Cumberbatch) to call off a scheduled attack, because new intel indicates a trap. Unfortunately, thanks to severed phone lines, this delivery requires trekking through land that the Germans haven't entirely abandoned -- or left hospitable.
There's a reason to appoint Blake in particular: He has a brother (Richard Madden) in the regiment in question. Blake picks Schofield as his partner before knowing the mission, perhaps simply because of proximity at the time. Neither feels good about making the journey without a larger party, but Erinmore values a duo for speed and stealth.
From a storytelling perspective, it's convenient that Germans have strategically withdrawn for the nonce. It means little danger at first, with a lot more excitement for the climax. That said, there's almost always tension in the air, as nobody feels safe for long and time is of the essence.
Furthermore, in many places with no immediate threat of violence anymore, there are clear remnants of violence. The gross, R-rated kind. Not always human. Mom was right to forgo a viewing on that basis. Even without the gore, the landscape is bleak, with cloudy or night-dark skies and run-down properties. We get the impression, partly from dialog, that even the First World War's German soldiers were pretty nasty, ruining things to the point that the land barely seemed worth defending.
Also convenient -- to me, anyway -- is the small number of major players. This time I have no excuse to let the soldiers run together in my mind. When something happens to Blake or Schofield, I care, all right.
Enhancing all the involved emotions, as you may have heard, is the one-shot technique, which I love. You may not feel quite like you yourself are there, but it helps you understand how long the mission is taking and how exhausting and scary it must be. Besides, the technique must be all the harder to pull off in a war epic, and the cheats for sneaking in extra shot transitions are never obvious except for the one time jump during a period of unconsciousness.
Only one moment struck me and Dad as a little far-fetched: an injury that wasn't as life-threatening or debilitating as we thought it would have to be. Further research makes it look plausible, if still fairly improbable.
My theater included closed captioning, which we hadn't realized ahead of time. This bothered Dad at first, but we both came to appreciate it. Some words were a tad difficult for our American ears to discern, and sometimes we needed the name of who spoke. You might want to seek the option for the same reasons.
I'm sure Mendes' grandfather, to whom 1917 is dedicated, would have been proud of him. I know I am.
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