Righteous, Embellishing, and slightly Jingoistic

Rating: 3/10 (2 August 1998)

Any movie that opens with a lengthy shot of the American flag has got problems.
In general, I thought it superficial, poorly written and poorly directed. Spielberg has a penchant for thrusting his movies upon his viewers, spoon -feeding them morality in doses of banal righteousness. I personally don't go to the movies to be treated like a schoolkid and taught a lesson so elementary, vague, and though ultimately true, trite.
Those who see Saving Private Ryan as a revelatory view of war obviously slept through High School History. War is gruesome, war isn't fun, war sucks. Glad to see the truth Spielberg, but dizzying freehand camera shots, pointless music (the music sucked throughout), and timed successions of loud booms gave me more of a headache than visceral enlightenment. About 5 minutes into the D-Day scene, when the cacophony of camera shots and dead bodies reached its apogee, I asked myself: "Why did Spielberg put this in? Did he have any real reason except to embellish the gruesomeness of war? Does this really contribute to the movie?" I found the answer to be no.
Then there's the plot and characters ... wait, what plot and characters? Here are 8(?) men meandering through French territory wondering why they are all such damn stereotypical and superficial characters. There's the bookworm, the Italian, the Southerner, the Jew, etc. In the end I can't feel very much for any of these characters cause they're not even human to me; they're typecasts. Even Tom Hanks (who does a worthy job), remains distant and emotionally inaccessible (due to poor writing). (So we know that his hand shakes and he teaches English. BFD) Spielberg could take a lesson from, say, John Sayles, about character development.
Then there's the plot. From the title, I expected there to be more focus on Saving Private Ryan. Instead, the group wanders through Normandy and the hunt for Ryan becomes unimportant and adventitious. The movie's impetus is seriously lacking, and I accredit this to poor directorial focus. Spielberg had problems finding a point to direct the energy of the war to, and instead directed it towards some vague moral standard. Unlike, say, Apocalypse Now, where the search for Brando has a singular focus on him, the soldiers wander aimlessly and haphazardly stumble upon Ryan in the most obtuse and anticlimatic fashion possible. On their way they go through a perfectly crafted sine curve of battles and traumas, discoveries and enlighenments. And as soon as I saw Ted Danson I couldn't help but drift to place where everybody knows your name and guys in pasty blue uniforms named Cliff down Heneiekens. Now THAT'S poor focus.
In the end I could predict flatly what would happen. Yes, it's a true story, so Spielberg was limited, but the presentation was just too flat. The ending is so utterly pitiful and righteous I wanted to puke. "So, this is what the movie came down to?" I thought as the American flag waved me goodbye. "War is bad. America is good. Death is bad. Life is good. " Drink Bud.