A Companion to the War Film is an examination of the war film genre and seeks to cover all aspects from the traditional war film through to the new global nature of conflicts, whilst considering the diverse formats that war stories assume in today’s digital culture. The book comprises 25 essays from both established and emerging scholars and seeks to expand the scope of the genre by applying fresh theoretical approaches and archival resources to the study of war films. Not only the “combat film” is covered, but films that cover the home front, as well as international and foreign language films, and the uses of alternative media, such as internet videos, military recruitment advertisements, government-produced films and TV programmes across a large range of conflicts, nations and times. The essays deal with questions of gender, race, forced internment, international terrorism and even war protest. Both the editors, Douglas A. Cunningham and John C. Nelson, have military connections. Cunningham is a retired US Air Force officer as well as a professor of literature, and Nelson is an academy professor in the Department of English and Philosophy at the US Military Academy, West Point. This military connection is unusual, but refreshing, in the case of editorship or authorship of war film genre books. Indeed, in the introduction by Cunningham, he reminisces about his days in 1989 when he was in the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs undergoing basic cadet training leading ultimately to commissioned officers. One day the trainees were diverted from their general routine of drill, exercise and rote memorisation, and 1,500 of them assembled in the hall at the Academy and were shown the film, Patton, about imposing World War II General George S. Patton, played equally imposingly by George C. Scott. Watching this film caused Cunningham to contemplate the question “What does experiencing a war film mean?” It was undeniable, he suggests, that context played a large role. There was a distinct difference in watching Patton with 1,500 military recruits in a military academy cinema in 1989 and watching the same film some 20 years earlier, shortly after its release in a crowded California drive-in.
Despite this, Cunningham takes the view that there is something about a powerful war film that resonates beyond the time and place of its own historical or historicised release. War films are always relevant and this is because war itself, unfortunately, never leaves us and its impact echoes through generations. Cunningham observes that, whilst films generally become viewed as “dated”, war films do not, although, I am not so sure about that. The producers of television commercials (notably for beer) have picked up on perceived stereotypes in World War II films and have used them for comic effect, in, for example, the TV commercial for Carlsberg lager “worth waiting for” from the classic British war film Ice Cold in Alex (director J. Lee Thompson, 1958) (released three years later as Desert Attack in the USA, ruined, with 48 min cut out!), or the Dam Busters (director Michael Anderson, 1955) commercial (1989) for Carling Black Label.
Cunningham’s view is that, whilst there are plenty of books dealing with the war film genre, they have failed to catch up with recent history and technologies in as much as the way that new media now expands and complicates our understanding and experience of war; the global nature of local, regional, national, international and ethnic conflicts, and the forms that stories about war can take, when, for example, we allow the boundaries of the genre to expand. As far as the USA is concerned, the scholarly conception of the war film has remained largely mired in the examination of Hollywood on World War II and the Vietnam War, and, whilst this is not to suggest that these wars do not merit any further attention, rather our examination of these areas needs to deepen, so we approach them from new angles and perspectives. The definitions of the genre of the war film, as a whole, need to broaden, and include in our analyses films from a wider variety of conflicts, nations and time periods, as well as applying fresh theoretical approaches and archival resources to their study. A Companion to the War Film is attempting to fill these gaps in the genre’s scholarship. The editors have deliberately not assigned the chapters into “sections”, which I feel, actually, to be a mistake. Strangely, Cunningham then goes on to list five areas of interest, into which the essays fall. These are: The War Film and History; The Historiography of the War Film as a Genre; Recent Gender Issues in the War Film; The War Film outside the Anglo-Phonic Imagination; and The War Film as Experienced through Alternative Media and/or Genres (e.g. television, cable, YouTube, straight-to-video projects etc.). So, yes, I would have preferred the book to have been divided into these sections, if only to allow the reader to more easily pick areas of special interest to themselves.
The book begins with the music of war films. How well, as a young schoolboy, I remember The Dam Busters March, by Eric Coates, from the film The Dam Busters (1955 Anderson) unfortunately not given a mention in this book. However, what is more surprising is that the book, or certainly the first chapter, goes back to the very beginning of the war film genre, which it claims to have begun in 1898 during the Spanish-American war. One hardly thinks of war film music having begun in the days of the silent cinema, but, as we need to remember, the “silent cinema” was never really “silent”. There was always some sort of musical accompaniment, whether piano, theatre organ or full live orchestra. So, Burial of the Maine Victims (1898) was essentially newsreel account of the events and, in at least one venue, the film was accompanied by an orchestra and the playing of Taps on a trumpet, leading to a “powerful reaction” in the audience. (Taps is a bugle call played during flag ceremonies and US military funerals). The second type of film was the “re-enactment” where battles were re-created such as in USA Infantry supported by Rough Riders at El Caney (1899) and finally narratives such as Love and War (1899). It is difficult to know exactly what the audience saw in 1899 as this three-min film, existing in the US Library of Congress, is not necessarily in the same form in which it was shown, but it is extremely interesting that it is quoted by a trade journal at the time as being “a wonderful song picture” and went on to say “We have at last succeeded in perfectly synchronising music and moving pictures”. There is some suggestion that these war forms were, in fact, more audio-visual presentations with slides, rather than film. These are fascinating areas which are rarely, if ever, touched upon.
An important aspect of the war film genre is the delivering of the bereavement message and two films Saving Private Ryan (1988 Spielberg) and The Messenger (2009 Moverman) focus on understanding the moral context of delivering bereavement messages. Again, the book looks at the history of bereavement messages, going back to what it claims to be one of the earliest in The Iliad, when the invading Achaeans fight to recover Patroclus’s body and Ajax asks Menelaus to see if Antilochus is still alive and suggests sending him to give Achilles the news of Patroclus’s death. Whilst Saving Private Ryan illustrates a different kind of bereavement message than the one Antilochus delivers, the messenger focuses on giving insight into how such messages impact not only civilian families but, indeed, the messengers themselves. The theme of the propaganda of war films runs throughout the book, as it is integral to the study of this genre. Film has been an important component in supporting, and even developing, a warrior culture since the 1890s, and the military–Hollywood connection is still important in our times, particularly where the armed forces comprise volunteers who have not been brought up in a society inculcated with warrior values from birth. The attack on Pearl Harbour ended Senate investigations into the film industry with the mobilisation of Hollywood to support the war effort including Jack Warner and Darryl Zanuck being commissioned as Lieutenant Colonels in the army and initially supervising the production of army films with significant studio support. Other film industry names, including Frank Capra and John Ford, served in key capacities producing and directing documentary, training and orientation films for the military. It seems that, like World War I before, or the Korean and Vietnam Wars after, World War II was the most motion picture friendly war of the last century. For Hollywood and American culture, World War II remains “a safe bet” to reinforce the comfort-based ideology resting on the known outcome of that war, and Stephen Spielberg continues to demonstrate this.
Whilst the book appears to have a largely US perspective, the chapter on “marketing” the bombing of Dresden considers the viewpoint of Germany and Great Britain, as well as the USA, through a German mini-series called Dresden (2006 Richter). Because of the intention to export Dresden to British, Canadian, New Zealand and Australian markets, it meant that consideration had to be given as to how to represent British Bomber Command and, in particular, Arthur “Bomber” Harris, its chief. The controversy in the UK with regard to the fire-bombing of Dresden began soon after the event and still continues.
Five of the chapters of the book deal with the subject of women in war and certainly give much greater exploration than simply leaving them as “the girl he left behind” or a “soldier’s tart” or a “fraternising woman”. In the history of cinema, there have been films that have been linked to a rise in military enlistment and some that are regularly shown to new recruits as both inspirational and reassuring. Some films have been considered to be positively pro-war such as Sergeant York (1941 Hawks). Another such film is The Sands of Iwo Jima (1949 Dwayne) which is the film that catapulted John Wayne into military glory and cult stardom. In the Vietnam War era, John Wayne was back with the more controversial The Green Berets (1968 Barrett et al.) heavily panned by critics, but successful at the box office and which has been linked to an increase in recruitment figures in 1968.
But if The Green Berets was pro-war, what about anti-war films? It is generally accepted that documentary films may be able to put forward a clearer position against war and have more long-lasting effects on viewers’ attitudes and beliefs and what about the fictional film? It is well known that the narrative film is likely to have a great circulation than a documentary, and that documentaries tend to be watched mainly by those who already agree with its argument. The answer is extremely difficult. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930 Milestone) is one such film and, because the First World War has been considered by many historians as tragically unnecessary, the war lends itself to such treatment and, as well as Milestone’s film, others are The Big Parade (1925 Vividor), the French film La Grande Illusion (1937 Renoir), and, of course, Paths of Glory (1957 Kubrick).
For those who wish to make a film that condemns war, the chapter gives a list of tropes, significant to the anti-war film genre. These include the use of children as victims; emphasis on the youth of soldiers; stress on death and dismemberment; the rape and abuse of women as allegories or inevitable results of war; claims of historical inauthenticity; and/or an unexpectedly tragic ending.
The printing and general layout of this book makes it quite clear to read and, despite it being 471 pages long, the binding is such that the pages lay perfectly open at whatever point the reader has reached. Various film stills appear through the book, not in huge abundance, but sufficient to make that point. All of the photographs have a somewhat overall grey appearance, which is often the case, and, I suspect, photographic quality is tied to production costs. Each chapter, or essay, ends with detailed notes, comprehensive references and further reading. The book includes a substantial index.
Despite my criticisms, I found this to be a very worthy piece of work, which presents new, up-to-date, challenging and refreshing views on the war film genre. This is certainly a book for academic libraries, and particularly those specialising in film studies and, indeed, those teaching military, war and conflict studies.
