Great opening sequence, then downhill into overrated territory

Rating: Null/10 (1 August 2011)

Following the WW2 D-Day Normandy Beach landing, a platoon of soldiers led by Tom Hanks are dispatched on a glorified public relations stunt to locate and retrieve the title private from the front lines.
Director Steven Spielberg can be a great filmmaker, but one must beware of his "serious" efforts designed to win over his detractors, film critics and Oscar voters. These "serious" films can run from the masterful like The Color Purple or Schindler's List (despite a few missteps in its final moments) to overrated misfires (The Empire of the Sun). SPR falls squarely in the overrated, mediocre category. Oscar voters actually made the correct decision in passing it over for the Best Picture Oscar.
The opening moments - depicting the Normandy landing - are impressive. Unfortunately, the film loses that momentum the moment its story kicks in. For one thing, no one is rooting for a mission that takes these men into danger for what is basically a rather asinine publicity stunt. While it is true that the U.S. Armed Forces did attempt to return home men whose siblings had all died serving their country to avoid wiping out an entire generation of a family, this was done by sending word to that soldier's unit of his planned extraction and then doing so at a convenient moment. Entire platoons were never sent on glorified rescue missions for low-level serviceman that placed large numbers of people at unnecessary risk. So the plot is largely preposterous.
While there are a number of great war films that can get away with presenting types in place of three-dimensional characters, this film is not one of them. There is very little camaraderie among these men and they largely blur together. We know them less as individuals than by the types they are presented as - and none of them are truly able to break out of these constrictions. For instance, we identify them solely as the second in command, the Italian guy, the Jewish guy, the newbie coward, the medic, the sniper, the jerk.
Incredibly for Spielberg, who usually features rich cinematography, this film is ugly to even look at. Everything is filmed in shades of gray, washed-out blue and dirt colors, often using a jittery hand-held camera for a "you are there" feel that functions more to generate either a headache or motion sickness rather than any sort of authenticity.
Once the men start off on their mission, the story repeats the same steps over and over again. One of the men will reveal something minor about themselves (i.e., a personality trait) and then be brutally killed in the next scene in the most drawn-out agonizing way possible. Then the men will trudge forth, another man will reveal something, and then be eviscerated in the following scene. One could almost do a Lawrence Welk to this - "And a one-a, and a two-a and BLAM!" The predictability of the action becomes wearisome and the only suspense lies in figuring what manner of unspeakable demise will pop up next. Will it be a bloody gunshot wound or will someone be blasted apart with Spielberg uncharacteristically allowing the gore and body parts to drench the jitter-cam? This predictable nature also allows to realize exactly where the film is headed.
For instance, if the film remains true to clichés, then once the surviving men meet Private Ryan, we anticipate that he will be a sunny all-American young man impossible to hate. We also anticipate that he will be a stand-up guy that will refuse to abandon the other members of his squadron in their hour of need, so that the surviving members of his rescue mission will be suitably impressed enough to stay to fight with them. When the diminished rescue party does reach him and be turns out to be Matt Damon, drawing out his biggest aw-shucks grin and practically oozing middle-American likability, you know the film has no surprise anywhere on its repertoire.
The majority of the supporting cast could change their roles and no one would notice so little impact are they allowed to make and so few are the facets to their respective characters. Two exceptions that stand out (and not in a good way) are Jeremy Davies' absolute descent into pure ham with his breakdown on the stairs and Edward Burns' unintended utter obnoxiousness throughout the course of the film. Tom Hanks is likable as usual, but he is playing...Tom Hanks. Only this time, with a slight quiver to his hand to key us in on the toll this war is taking on him.
By the time the film rolls into its final moments, it has been an exhausting, unpleasant viewing experience - or something misguided people like to pretend is "powerful". Anyone with an iota of sense knows that "war is hell", but that does not mean we want to pay to have it inflicted on us for nearly 3 hours without break. I think I finally had enough at the climax when one of the men held on to a grenade too long and literally blew apart - with all of the gore that implies. I stayed to the foregone conclusion, but I think I had shut off from that moment on.
And a foregone conclusion it is since Spielberg rather strangely opens the film with the elderly living Ryan visiting Arlington cemetery and then closes it again with him in another one of his clumsy codas. I have no idea what to say when Ryan turns to his family and wonders if the men's sacrifice was all worth it. However, I do know that this film, despite its most ardent admirers should not be considered one the great war films ever made. For all of its patriotism and attempts at realism, for all its brutality and in-your-face approach, its story and characters are just not worth that amount of consideration.