1917 is a film that unfolds like a video game. Despite the faux single-shot format, the nearly two hours that Schofield and Blake spend (delivering a crucial message to a British detachment about to fall into a trap) are divided into distinct episodic segments reminiscent of Battlefield or Medal of Honor. If we had to compare it to another film, we're not entirely sure why, but The Revenant comes to mind . If 1917 wins the Oscar for Best Picture, it will be more than deserved. You don't leave the theater the same after being exposed to the mud, dust, and mutilation of 1917.
1917: war and barbarism without nuances
It's a relief that its director, Sam Mendes, spares us from any rhetoric. Accepting the commentary on the barbarity of films like Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket, The Thin Red Line , and Dunkirk, the 2020 Golden Globe winner for Best Picture is a parade of raw panic, echoing Hamburger Hill's portrayal of the utter hopelessness for soldiers deployed in conflict: "Here we come to die, and any salvation will be received as a miracle from God." The director of 1917 himself likens it more to a horror film than a war film. Special mention must be made of the incredibly effective sense of suffocating oppression and confinement throughout 1917 , and especially in the trench scenes. You can practically smell the sweat and urine.
The way it's filmed, 1917 captures the immersive intensity of the first 15 minutes of Saving Private Ryan and expands it into a feature film (with its corresponding breather). 1917 is a continuous "what now?" that keeps you glued to your seat with a horrified expression. When houses explode into a thousand pieces, you can feel the dust plumes choking you. You can feel the flies and smell the pus when you come across yet another pile of decomposing corpses next to the mud, and you can almost see the tendons tearing through when one of the characters plunges his hand into a barbed-wire fence (before inserting it into the gaping hole in a corpse's chest).
1917 doesn't need dialogue
The impact of 1917 is devastating. Unlike many other war films, its brutal and horrific blows focus more on the aftermath than the events; there aren't as many action scenes as there are scenes of the lead-up and the consequences: soldiers preparing for death, and piles of corpses confirming the senselessness. Hopefully, this impact pierces us, like shrapnel, for days. Sometimes weeks. In the best-case scenario, for the rest of our lives. "Can a film with no nominated actors and actresses win the Oscar for Best Picture?" asks The Hollywood Reporter about Parasite and 1917. Indeed, if there's one thing 1917 isn't known for , it's its dialogue.
Dialogue is conspicuously absent throughout almost the entire film, and that's perfectly fine. 1917 is a prodigious display of resources that doesn't need many words , as the picture is abundantly clear. Zero ideological messages here and zero concern for falling into clichés. The spectacle we witness is terrible. The only woman who appears in the entire film is a French girl, a wayward baby, who tends to the wounds of one of the protagonists.
The music, criticized by some for its overly paternalistic role, is, in our opinion, perfectly integrated. It sets the pace beautifully and has flashes of brilliance with BPM surges at moments that, out of respect for spoilers, we'll refrain from revealing. More than music, it's a kind of lurking undercurrent of death, forming a ceiling over nine- or ten-minute scenes without breaks; life itself understood as an exercise in futility when human beings once again fail to understand each other , with the music occasionally helping to transform something trivial into something profoundly significant.
The 1917 sequence shot
Articles like " Is the 1917 sequence shot authentic ? " are circulating freely and uncensored . Quite a headline, isn't it? Is it possible to condense the entire workings of cultural information on the internet into fewer words?
That said, I absolutely refuse to write another word about this tired old technical issue. It's sad, unfair, and stupid to reduce the impact of a cultural product to a mere label. A line repeated a thousand times by news programs, critics, and Facebook posts . So much has been said about the single-shot sequence in 1917 that its Golden Globe for Best Picture in 2019 seems almost anecdotal. Something similar happened to The Irishman with its special effects: the film became secondary.
Let's talk about things of substance; let's talk about awards and why it's possible that 1917 will make history at the 2020 Oscars.
1917 is right up there with Saving Private Ryan.
In terms of concept, resources, and execution, 1917 can stand shoulder to shoulder with Saving Private Ryan. This is unprecedented. Not even Christopher Nolan could have done it. This is something wonderful and pure cinematic history.
However.
The Best Picture competitions are meaningless. So are the lists of the greatest films, all the awards, and, of course, the Oscars (ideological agendas aside). How can anyone claim that Joker is better or worse than Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? How can anyone compare the intricate visual subtleties of the South Korean film Parasite with the sheer scale of resources, technology, and mutilated Britons that is 1917? Why should I believe that Shakespeare in Love is superior to Saving Private Ryan?
We like to make predictions and prepare popcorn on Oscar nights because in the end, as Jep Gambardella says in The Great Beauty, "it's all a trick."
It is not the track record that determines the place in the history of each film. That is what the heart, the memory, the bar talks and the likes and dislikes of the new generations of filmmakers take care of.
At Postposmo, we published this review weeks after the theatrical release of 1917. We have no problem with that, nor are we in any hurry. Many more weeks, even months, will have to pass before we can know for sure where 1917 fits into history.
1917 is the confirmation of Sam Mendes as a great film
A year after Shakespeare in Love stole the Best Picture Oscar from Saving Private Ryan, the award went to American Beauty, directed by a certain Sam Mendes who was then making his film debut. Two decades have passed, and Kevin Spacey is no longer in the film industry, but rather in the courts. Sam Mendes (always absent from lists of the best contemporary directors) has made Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road, Jarhead , and two of the most refreshing and original updates to the James Bond saga: Skyfall and Spectre.
This year, the British director is up for ten Oscars with his colossal and wonderful 1917 (after winning the Golden Globe a few weeks ago). Unfortunately for him, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and The Irishman are also vying for ten statuettes this year, while Joker is the favorite with eleven nominations. This year, we're in for a real Oscar night.
At the end of the day, every movie, regardless of its genre, shares common ingredients. A structure of acts, a similar duration and a final impact on the viewer's memory for when he returns to the world. If these are the criteria that determine the success of a director in the face of the number of times he will have to say thank you next February 10 at the Dolby Theater in LA, Sam Mendes is in a position to destroy.