Ask most filmgoers, and World War II history enthusiasts, to name the most accurate, authentic, and quintessential World War II movie, and you’ll hear the same answer over and over again: Saving Private Ryan.
I take a different view of the 1998 film, and one that I’m sure will rankle quite a few devotees.
I can understand such attachment, as there is so much to love in this movie. The opening scene of the aged D-Day veteran walking into the American cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer – a soul-stirring sanctuary I have visited twice – tears me up almost every time I see it. Followed by the twenty-four heart-pounding minutes Steven Spielberg pulls us into the horrors of Omaha Beach that fateful morning in June 1944. It is the most gripping and lifelike battlefield sequence ever put on film, hands down.
It’s the 134 minutes that follow where the movie falters a bit. At least for me. Make no mistake, it’s an exceptionally well-made movie, with a compelling narrative, relatable characters, and of course, the impeccable Tom Hanks. But as the small squad is trudging across the French countryside, battling past obstacles and debating the sensibility of their mission, I can’t help asking myself, that of all the wartime narratives that Spielberg could have drawn on to explore themes of camaraderie, sacrifice, duty, and humanity, this is what he chose?
Normandy certainly offers an appealing backdrop. D-Day was largely a success, but the landings provided only a tenuous foothold, and it would be well into July before the Allies finally broke out of their beachheads and into the French interior. Spielberg could have worked his moviemaking magic in the bocage, a patchwork of blood-soaked farm fields, orchards, and hedgerows where American and German forces grappled for weeks.
Instead, we’re off to find Matt Damon. I get it – the journey provides an opportunity to discuss the merits of locating one man, to question the wisdom of those far removed from the front lines, and to cross paths with an enemy soldier, who quite ludicrously shows up at other key moments of the film.
I just think those themes could have been explored through a more compelling storyline. Shortly after the Omaha Beach scene, Hanks’ character is shown reporting to his superior after the weary officer’s Ranger company neutralized a German artillery position, an action that resulted in severe losses among his own men. “They just didn’t want to give up those .88s,” said Captain Miller, his eyes drifting away, still processing the mayhem of all he has witnessed. Use that mission, Mr. Spielberg, to tell your story.
To illustrate my meaning, we can look to Band of Brothers, which arrived three years after SPR and is deemed by many (myself included) as the gold standard of World War II storytelling. Consider how grief and loss, and the complexities and trappings of leadership, are explored in the Breaking Point episode about the struggle around a tiny Belgian village during the Battle of the Bulge.
Before I am deluged with outraged responses from SPR devotees, let me emphatically make two essential points.
First, SPR is not a bad film – it is a very good one, and one I have thoroughly enjoyed multiple times. The opening act is, by itself, Best Picture material, and in terms of all-time WWII film rankings, the film as a whole is in Top Five territory. I just think it falls short of Best Ever.
Second, I cannot emphasize enough how grateful I am for SPR. With my books and website, I have taken a modest stab at broadening awareness of this incredible era, but this movie has led the way, introducing the extraordinary sacrifice and resiliency that marked this generation of servicemen to many millions of viewers around the globe. It has had an extraordinary, immeasurable impact for which I am profoundly thankful.
I intend to write more about Band of Brothers, The Pacific, Masters of the Air, and other such productions – stay tuned for that. Working title of that blog piece is The Good (Das Boot), the Bad (The Thin Red Line), and the Ugly (Pearl Harbor). In the meantime, I welcome all comments and differences of opinion.
