Brief thoughts on 1917.

The devastation of World War I can never be understated, with its extensive loss of life as one of the deadliest wars in history, resulting in the deaths of 700,000 British soldiers alone. While that side of the war has been showcased to us several times before, from Steven Spielberg's War Horse to Peter Jackson's They Shall Not Grow Old, none have approached it with the visceral immediacy achieved by a post-Bond Sam Mendes, in the uniquely crafted 1917, my last major release of 2019, and a stunning swan song for it at that.

Inspired by the life and stories of his grandfather Alfred, Mendes follows the intimate journey of two young men, sent off on a perilous mission to warn a fellow faction of the British Army to stand down, lest they walk into a trap set by German soldiers. The basic set-up of the premise is simple, but effective in pitting us in the headspace of its main characters, whose minimal, but compelling backstories and personal motivations lend us an intimate emotional connection to what they hope to accomplish, even if it means losing their lives in the process.

Given what a suicide mission the assignment feels like, as George MacKay's Schofield points out several times, you can also understand the pure fear and terror they feel at every new turn. The trek to the Second Battallion is one of incredible danger. Not merely from the German soldiers waiting to attack, but from the exhausting and treacherous threats of the environment around them. The trek becomes a psychological test of endurance and survival, where failure feels all but set in stone, and to press further is merely prolonging the inevitable. But knowing they could have prevented those casualties, could they forgive themselves if they were to stop?

There's such a strong emotional current that Mendes brings to the film, none the least of which is owed to the power of his real-time photography, realized through the lens of master DP Roger Deakins. Shot and edited to appear as if one take, while the flashy set-up could have fallen into an easy gimmick, it proves an invaluable support for the film, adding to the strong intimacy that fuels it, and only heightens the anxiety and terror we experience right alongside our main surrogates. Unsurprisingly, it's also a dazzling showcase of Deakins' always formidable photographic talents, weaving through each dangerous and tranquil environment with a laser-focused clarity, and a meticulous emphasis on striking iconography. It's hardly a surprise as to why he'll inevitably wind up with only his second Oscar.

But Deakins isn't the only one at the top of his game, as Mendes, specifically once we reach the second half, is practically at the peak of his powers behind the director's chair. Through the slow build of his real-time trek, there's an almost effortless gradual hike in intensity that Mendes brings to the material, immersing us into the perilous hazards and gunfire with a POV level focus, especially in regards to the startling sound design filtered in from every angle. Things certainly reach a boil once entering into the final act of the film, with set-pieces where my heart was pounding from anxiety, offset by the minimal but stirring beauty of Thomas Newman's score.

And this really does feel like a journey. An arduous and taxing one, but one leaving you filled with relief by its ending. From a purely technical standpoint, it's one of the finest achievements of the year, but matched to the strength of its simple central quest, it also lends much needed heart and tension to its masterclass construction. It's certainly Mendes' most ambitious film to date, paying off with one of the best films of his career, a poingnant tribute honoring the lives of the fallen that leaves you stunned long after it's finished.


***** / *****