"1917" and "A Hidden Life"

What Sam Mendes has accomplished with "1917" is nothing short of astonishing. The whole film is a technical marvel, designed to look like one continuous shot that runs almost two hours in length. In that time, we follow a pair of WWI British soldiers, Lance Corporal Will Schofield (George MacKay) and Lance Corporal Tom Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman), as they traverse the trenches and battlefields of northern France, trying to deliver a message from General Erinmore (Colin Firth), to prevent a massacre. The journey is punctuated by large scale action and thrills, and encounters with officers played by familiar faces, including Andrew Scott, Mark Strong, and Benedict Cumberbatch.

As a visceral spectacle, "1917" is great cinema. The long, long shots are wonderfully immersive, and there's such a tactility to all the different environments - the claustrophobic trenches, a bombed out French village, the desolate No Man's Land, and an abandoned farm that isn't quite as peaceful as it looks. The sheer scale of the events we see unfold is boggling, sometimes involving dozens of extras, or the careful choreography of unpredictable elements like animals and small children. Roger Deakins' cinematography is some of the best he's ever done, going from one complicated shot to another, to another. There's seamless transitioning between first and third person perspectives more commonly seen in video games.

Once the action slows down, however, it becomes clear how simple the characters are and how slight and stylized the narrative is. Though it takes place in real wartime locations, involves real conflicts, and gets many of the details right, it's obvious that the sequence of events is far more allegorical than representational. In fact, it often feels like the movie is attempting to compress the experience of the entire war into two hours. Having the recognizable actors popping up at regular intervals, and the entire encounter with the Frenchwoman played by Claire Duburcq come off as far too contrived. "1917" is wonderful as a filmgoing experience, and lands its emotional punches, but doesn't quite manage the power of similar films like "Son of Saul" or "Come and See."

I also feel it suffers a bit in comparison to Terrence Malick's latest, "A Hidden Life," a biopic of German WWII conscientious objector Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl). Malick wants to put the viewer in the same headspace as his protagonist too, but goes about it differently. Interior monologues, dreamy montages of daily life, and the occasional first person shot reveal the intimate details of Franz's world - Malick's usual modus operandi. The film also shares with "1917" the amusing habit of having the protagonist meet one famous face after another along his journey, this time Michael Nyqvist, Jürgen Prochnow, Matthias Schoenaerts, and Bruno Ganz, among others.

Franz lives with his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and their three children on a farm in the Austrian town of St. Radegund. Their life is simple and idyllic until the town's men are conscripted to fight in WWII. Franz refuses, even declining non-combat service, because he will be required to pledge loyalty to Adolf Hitler. Eventually, he's arrested and his family become pariahs. If you've seen any of Terence Malick's films in the last decade, the style and themes will be familiar. Franz's internal struggles against doubt and oppression have a strong spiritual dimension, and he seeks guidance from unhelpful religious figures. His decision creates strife for the entire family, including his mother and sister-in-law. A significant part of the narrative is given over to Fani during the separation, charting the decline and despair that she suffers in Franz's absence.

"A Hidden Life" is Malick's best work since "The Tree of Life," because he's finally found subject matter and characters who are compatible with his cinematic preoccupations. The dreamy reveries and existential searching are so much more powerful in the context of these specific characters living through this specific crisis. Ironically, the film is more timely and relevant than any of his recent contemporary work, as it presents a story with very clear and recognizable stakes - a good man making a personal stand against Fascism. Diehl and Pachner both deliver very strong performances, despite an obvious language barrier, and Malick's longtime camera operator Jörg Widmer does exceptional work as cinematographer.

This one surprised me. Just when I thought I was at the end of my patience with Terrence Malick, he found a way to win me over completely.
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