Actions speak louder than words

Rating: 7/10 (29 March 2020)

"1917" is Oscar-bait of the highest caliber. Which means is technically astute, highly pretentious--especially for a war movie--with director/writer Sam Mendes wanting to attract attention by filming it in a seemingly singular shot and employing cinematographer legend Roger Deakins to give extra-polished sight to his vision. The movie is clever in this way, as what we see covers its superficial emotional shortcomings with success--it's like watching someone play a highly-detailed video game.
Don't get me wrong, "1917" is emotional. But it also uses tear-jerking as a method of extracting emotion. It is filled with shock value. In particular, the scene in which Lance Corporal Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Lance Corporal Schofield (George MacKay) begin their journey through no-man's land. From afar, it looks like muddy terrain, but the closer we look, the more we see horrifying dead bodies just barely sticking out the mud which undoubtedly hides even more horror. Yet even when there is beauty surrounding them, there is no time to stop and admire it. The message must be delivered otherwise 1600 men will die--it doesn't get more blunt than this.
Emotionally, "1917" is not a deep movie. Mendes took the inspiration from his grandfather who fought in the war and he fell to juvenile fascination. But while it doesn't delve into psychological and emotional complexities, the tragedies that ensue are candid. Mendes constantly keeps the clock ticking and pushes his characters into the maw of death again and again and we follow them helplessly. MacKay's constant tense face, his wide-open eyes, living in constant fear and agony, shows an inescapable fervor.
A scene which caught my eye is when Schofield meets a French girl with a new-born in a war-town house. For once, he stops, plays with the baby, almost as if he imagines him a father and husband and life is good. But quickly his expression changes, and he wakes up from his "dream". The scene in itself is, again, pretty standard but it is also a template for the common dream for every man and its vividness invites us to contemplate further--since the movie doesn't do it itself.
"1917" makes the unseen pleasures of movies take a step back--things like emotional depth and complex, focused philosophies which permeate great movies and make us think about them over and over again. But even if it lacks greatness, its sudden blunt force trauma hits hard despite not lingering.