1917 review

The epic war film is one of the most storied genres in all of cinema. Since the early silent era they have usually represented a high water mark in technical achievement, giving audiences a chance to see the widest lenses, the largest pyrotechnics, and the highest number of extras that can be crammed into one frame. Whether any given film is for or against what’s happening on screen, the spectacle can’t be denied, and the logistical feats must be acknowledged.

So goes the case for 1917, the latest work from director Sam Mendes and legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins. Any discussion of the film must begin by saying that these two men, as well as a whole team of talented technicians, have created something that is a real marvel to take in. The film is made up of a series of extended one-take tracking shots that all told contain about five cuts, some more obvious than others. There are a few moments in 1917 where the effect of this relentless camera work is truly breath-taking.

The most effective of these moments centre on the desperate scrambling of Lance Corporal Will Schofield (George MacKay) as a cacophony of fighting, bombing and dying rushes around him. The smallness of the soldier, when surrounded by overwhelming, unstoppable conflict, creates a real sense of dread and inevitability, an accurately sombre impression of the First World War.

WW1 is where we are of course; the story follows (literally) Scofield and his fellow LC Tom Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) as they have to undertake the Pheidippides inspired task of delivering vital, time sensitive information from one British front to another, on foot. On the way they encounter a series of war film clichés and notable British actors in small, scenery chewing cameos. Some of these scenes work better than others, and there is a sense of staginess to more than one of them (Mendes is originally a theatre director).

It is in a lot of the smaller moments where 1917 is hindered by the decision to film in extended uncut takes. A lot of quiet conversations feel a little stilted, and you can see where scenes are crying out for some effective editing. There are also times when you’re left a little confused by sudden changes in terrain or the appearance of a bunch of soldiers seemingly out of nowhere. Ultimately the stubborn adherence to the unbroken style winds up feeling more like a marketing gimmick than an effectively used storytelling tool.  

It’s a mistake we see often in certain types of spectacle driven films. A lack of variety, visual, tonal, or otherwise, can stagnate a story or experience. Think of the monotonous trudging of ‘The Revenant’ or the explosive exhaustion of the recent ‘6 Underground’. While 1917 lands a few more emotional punches than either of those films, and is probably worth seeing in a cinema for its stand out action sequences alone, it ultimately isn’t fulfilling as a drama, or as a psychological study of war.