Review of All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) by Paul P — 03 Feb 2009

A film with a title so iconic and lyrical that most people anywhere will know the phrase, yet very few have experienced either literary or cinematic version of this quiet, painful anti-war story. In an age where books, films, visual arts and even music are becoming increasingly politicised in their criticisms of conflict, for a modern audience to sit through Lewis Milestone's colossal achievement it would more than likely come across as samey, even boring. It's important to consider a broad historical context in analysing the film's merits, which, unfortunately, impose an unfair limit on its emotional reach.

First off, in filmic terms, this was a giant production. Changed at the last minute to a sound feature the entire production was hastily reworked to capitalise on the fledgling, primitive talkie craze. With producer Laemmle and director Milestone the only real big names attached, this was a big gamble in a notoriously unsteady period. But with a prosaic source, an attractive and talented cast and the raw force of Milestone's direction it became an incredible piece of art.

The echoes of the silent era were very faint by now, with the art form fading into distant memory, but influences can be seen subtly in the fabric of the film, particularly in the battle scenes. A lot of sequences involve the seemingly random overlay of sound, with shouts, shellfire and explosions repeating again and again over the searing visuals. Other times the camera lingers over the wounded company, too exhausted to even keep their eyes open. Even smaller gestures hark at the era gone past, such as the daydreams of the boys at the beginning segueing in and out of the present in that slightly wonky way flashbacks used to be done. But these are only small details that litter the film's vast content. For the most part this is the archetypal platoon-in-peril mission, with a group of elder schoolkids leaping at the chance for glory, only to be whitled away, physically and spiritually, as they discover the harshness of the real world. We get the older veterans offering their wisdom and fatherly shelter, and we wade through a long, painful insight into every facet, disappointment and ugly truth war brings up. Since this is the first war film to take a deeply psychological approach, and with a uniquely disturbing conflict, one can hardly grow tired of such 'cliches'.

The acting is of a surprisingly competent quality. In an era which obsessed over pushing the technical boundaries of film to their limits with an overload of music, dialogue and gaudy visuals everything about this film is as low key as possible. Introduced to a large cast of major characters at the beginning it becomes clear that our real focus is the charismatic 'Paul', played with astonishing sensitivity by the youthful Lew Ayres. It's with him who we share the majority of our experiences with, and it's his brave but simple dedication that drives him through such horror. Again he is the character we've seen many times since, as the cocky recruit soon growing up to lead a cadre half his own age. The other soldiers are played with just the right amount of genuine pain, glossing over the more melodramatic scenes to carry them into the same believeability that inhabits the rest of the film.

As a document of the First World War it could hardly be bettered. Taking the reality of the war footage used in documentaries and welding some detailed, shattered lives that are told countless numbers of times, this feels like a solid tapestry to a tragic act of human suffering. This particular war is the most beguiling conflict to modern viewers. This is the war that degrading violence into the animalistic savagery that is now so common place in the 90 years since. It's hard to imagine conflicts before this as largely being one of a detached kind, with things like chivarly, manners and rules dictating the course of a campaign. After 80 years of war films detailed with blood and guts, to see this shift in human personality happen in such a pointless war is especially disturbing. With a central battle sequence that more than matches the opening of 'Saving Private Ryan' we see the true futility of the conflict as both sides charge then retreat with a similar number of enormous casualities. Unflinchingly graphic and volatile Milestone never shies away from a moment of excruciating pain. Violence permeates strongly in shocking details, such as bloodied hands feeding barbed wire or the ominous growling of a bomber in the sky.

Sapped of any sickly sentimentality which would quickly become stapled to any subsequent war film, this is a conflict stripped bare and recreated totally realistically on screen. And the final touch is the realisation that the whole thing is seen from the German perspective. There's no oblivious patriotism of the American newcomers; just the stark, sobering brutality inflicted on the foolish European nations. Starvation and slow suicide aren't frightening plausabilities, they are a staple way of life, and 'All Quiet On The Western Front' remains the only film ever to really bring that scruffiness, that desparation to the screen. It's not happy viewing, but it's not totally grim either, as there are many warm and compassionate moments to pivot on throughout, not the least of which being Paul's sighing wish list with his French lover, or his tearful reunion with his sister. But, ultimately, this is a chapter in human history that contains no happy ending at all, and to even imagine one seems tasteless and disrespectful. Milestone more than manages to give life and emotional damage to the limitless number of written or filmed works about the First World War. This film should be shown to school and college classes who are alienated from such an impenetrable war, and it should be mandatory screening for any TV station on November 11th, such is its heart-rending power.