Saving Private Ryan's genre changing depiction of battle means that thinly drawn narrative and characterisation is unimportant

Rating: 9/10 (17 November 2014)

Saving Private Ryan is technically excellent, it achieved what very few films do – it set a new benchmark. The film's harsh aesthetic and desaturated colour palette has been emulated many times, Ryan's influence can be seen in films from We Were Soldiers (2002) and Rambo (2008) to Black Hawk Down (2001) and Fury (2014). Although there have been some decent efforts, I am yet to see a film that equals let alone surpasses the beginning 25 minutes, the final battle in the fictional French town of Ramelle and everything in between.
The film follows the 2nd Ranger Battalion, the salient characters of which including Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks), the affable yet authoritative leader; Sergeant Horvath (Tom Sizemore), the platoon's second in command; Private Jackson (Barry Pepper), a stylishly ultra- accurate, cross kissing sniper from the bible belt; Private Reiben (Edward Burns), an incendiary man from Brooklyn; Private Mellish (Adam Goldberg), a Jew who relishes informing German captives of his heritage and T4 Grade Timothy Upham (Jeremy Davies), a very timid man who proves wholly unsuited to war. The men's mission is to locate and send home Private James Ryan (Matt Damon) on the compassionate orders of Chief of Staff George Marshall, who has been informed that Ryan's three brothers have all died in combat, their mother receiving the three telegrams simultaneously.
'You wanna explain the math of this to me? I mean, where's the sense of riskin' the lives of the eight of us to save one guy?' says the argumentative Private Reiben. He addresses what I'm sure many viewers were wondering – is this premise plausible? Although inspired by and probably keen to emulate Lincoln's Bixby letter, would George Marshall have really possessed such compassion during a state of total war? It's interesting to note that screenwriter Robert Rodat developed the idea after reading a monument in Putney Corners, New Hampshire that listed the names of eight brothers who died during the American Civil War.
Unlike Brad Pitt in the recent Fury, Tom Hanks gives the performance of an everyday man, a middle-class secondary school teacher thrust into an extraordinary situation. Hank's character Captain Miller reminds you of what is now the unthinkable idea of conscription, reminds you of how civilians with little or no prior interest, ability or training in the army were mobilised to kill and conquer. There's not much to be found outside of Captain Miller in terms of characterisation however, Miller's men are quite flat and unremarkable, apart from Private Jackson, whose ultra-accuracy is displayed with a stylish flair that's out of character in a film whose violence is appropriately ugly. Jackson is also a good ol' boy, a self-righteous bible spouting stock character who was recently emulated by Shia LaBeouf as 'Boyd 'Bible' Swan' in Fury.
What I also found slightly troubling was the construction of the Germans, it was somewhat crude. Of the countless German troops we see in the film, the only one that is given any depth, 'Steamboat Willie' (Joerg Stadler), is shown to be a horribly callous backstabber; although, considering the context of total war, some may argue that he was just a soldier doing his duty. The narrative arcs of 'Willie' and Upham (the coward of the platoon) intertwine, climaxing in a scene that I think is ethically dubious.
Despite both narrative and character development being somewhat thinly drawn, they're not that bad and, crucially, not the centre of the film. The film's great accomplishment lies in its seminal depiction of warfare. Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski is to be commended for his raw, grisly aesthetic and his perfectly judged use of erratic camera movement, a style that has been messily emulated to nausea-inducing effect far too many times.
Like many others have, I could praise endlessly the new level of gripping realist cinema that Ryan introduced to viewers; however almost all of this commendation is being delivered by people who have never experienced battle. How do we know what a battle truly looks and feels like? The majority of what I witnessed seemed realistic to me, but I can't offer solid corroboration as I stepped foot on Omaha Beach 70 years too late. Surely the ultimate endorsement and affirmation for Saving Private Ryan's authenticity is from the people who have experienced war.
Written in the Florida Times Union on 15th August 1998 was an account of D-Day veterans 'enduring' Saving Private Ryan. This included Bill Faust, 78, who was accompanied in the theatre by only one other as the rest of his North Florida D-Day veterans' group walked out - 'I should have never gone to see that damn movie,' Faust said, 'In my mind, most of the details of D-Day were gone; all this did was bring them back it's better to keep them tucked away where they don't bother you.'
The article continues – 'Vietnam veteran Ed Kelly, 57, left before the opening scene was over - "I just couldn't handle it" Kelly said. "The kid holding his guts; I had seen that in Vietnam. That was it for me. I got up and walked out. It was the closest thing to the horrors of real combat that I have ever seen.'
There was also Jerry Markham, 79, who walked out of the theatre 'impressed and depressed, amazed but saddened by the realism of the sights and sounds, especially the instant deaths after the landing craft ramps were lowered.' Markham was a Navy chief petty officer on a demolitions team on D-Day and saw his commanding officer die this way - 'That scene broke me up... that was how it happened. Bodies were flying everywhere I wouldn't recommend it for young children, but anyone 14, 15 or older should see it they should start learning about how horrible war is.'
I think all of this speaks volumes for Saving Private Ryan's credibility.
90%
(for the full travel article, please visit www.hawkensian.com)