APOCALYPSE ’45: I never visualized hell being that bad

APOCALYPSE ’45

The powerful documentary Apocalypse ’45 takes never-before-seen footage of WWII action and blends it into an experience that brings new insights to familiar history.

Apocalypse ’45 takes on the war in the Pacific in 1944 and 1945; the Japanese military knew that its defeat was inevitable, and their strategy was to avoid unconditional surrender by making its price to the Americans too painful. What happened was horrible, and filmmaker Erik Nelson helps us appreciate that with his spare construction – Apocalypse ’45 is essentially three elements – the film itself, the voice over by survivors and starkly evocative titles.

First, Nelson selected from 700 reels of archival film from the National Archive, digitally restored in 4K. It’s in color, and that makes a huge difference to those of us who have to be reminded that WWII was not fought in black and white.

The color and the 4K restoration makes these events look like we were living through them, too, and humanizes the people in the film, making them more relatable. The feeling for the audience is similar to what Peter Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old did for those who fought WWI. The somber fatalism of Marines in landing craft and the joyous relief of sailors and Marines in victory parades are palpable.

The shipboard footage of kamikaze attacks and the pilot’s eye views of strafing missions are breathtaking. The footage of a morass with a movie clapboard “Route 1 Okinawa Mud” helps us understand the challenges of moving an army through muck, even without enemy fire.

A few nonagenarians and centenarians have still survived WWII, and Nelson adds their memories in voice overs. Their reflections are unvarnished, and some of the Marines’ views of the Japanese adversaries are hard to hear. But the overall effect is an understanding of how awful this was:

  • About the planned invasion of Japan: “We didn’t think that the war would end before 1949.”
  • About the use of flamethrowers: “The smell was terribleThey could run (on fire) about 20 yards and that was it.”
  • War is hell, but I never visualized hell being that bad.”
  • In the amazing account of a Hiroshima atomic bomb survivor: “That’s when everything blew up.”

Nelson ties together the footage and the testimonies with stark white-on-black titles, all the more chilling by their matter of factness. About the liberation of the Philippines): “100,000 civilians and the entire defending Japanese Army were killed” (and, indeed, 93% of the 350,000 Japanese soldiers and sailors died). About the fire bombing of Tokyo: 100,000 Japanese civilians were incinerated.

Nelson’s titles tell how the US manufactured enough Purple Heart medals for the invasion of Japan, based on American casualties in the conquest of Okinawa. After the surrender, those Purple Heart medals were warehoused – and the stockpile has been sufficient to supply every American conflict since 1945.

As Apocalypse ’45 begins, it may seem like a regular WW II documentary with some new imagery, but it becomes more and more powerful as the images, personal testimonies and narrative titles have their effect.

Apocalypse ’45 is now streaming on Virtual Cinema and eventive; I watched it at the Pruneyard Cinemas. It will premiere on the Discovery Channel on Labor Day weekend.

DATELINE-SAIGON: the truth will out

David Halberstam (left) and Malcolm Browne (center) in DATELINE-SAIGON

Dateline-Saigon documents the efforts of five journalists to cover the Vietnam War in the face of a US government which did not want the facts to be told. The five were Malcolm Browne, Neil Sheehan, Horst Faas, David Halberstam and Peter Arnett, who amassed a bucket of Pulitzers between them.

What they found in Vietnam was that American policy was not working, because (among many factors) the Diem regime was alienating most of its own population, the South Vietnamese Army was less motivated to fight than the Viet Cong, and that Americans were more directly involved in combat than had been acknowledged. And the US government didn’t want any of this reported.

As Dateline-Saigon says, “When these patriotic journalists arrive in Vietnam, they had no idea they would become the enemy“, meaning the truth-wielding enemy of the US government propaganda. The reporters describe the government efforts to obscure, mislead, spin, hide and controvert the facts as a “vast lying machine” and the “Truth Suppressors”.

Quang Lien and Malcolm Browne (center) in DATELINE-SAIGON (AP Photo)

All television news viewers (especially a ten-year-old The Movie Gourmet) were shocked by the 1963 Buddhist monk’s self-immolation to protest the Diem regime in 1963. No one was more shocked than Browne, who was covering the Buddhist march, and, to his surprise and horror, had this unfold a few steps in front of him.

Sheehan is famous for uncovering the Pentagon Papers. Beginning with The Best and the Brightest, Halberstam banged out bestseller after bestseller on 20th century American history. Arnett went to cover dozens of conflicts interview Osama Bin-Laden and was a major media face of the Iraq War.

This is a Must See for students of journalism and of the Vietnam War Era of American History. You can stream Dateline-Saigon on iTunes.

https://youtu.be/xx7–wm8Sx8

THE LAST FULL MEASURE: pedestrian, except for the oldsters

Christopher Plummer and Diane Ladd in THE LAST FULL MEASURE

The Last Full Measure tells the true story of a slain military hero who, due to the efforts of those who survived the battle, finally get a deserved Congressional Medal of Honor decades after his death. It’s a pedestrian movie periodically enlivened by excellent supporting performances.

The Last Full Measure is set in 2000, 32 years after the battle, when a selfish Pentagon career-climber (Sebastian Stan) is stuck with the unwanted assignment of validating the act of valor (it ain’t going to help him advance his career). He bitterly visits geezer after geezer to find out why the medal is deserved and why it wasn’t awarded earlier.

I’m not convinced that Sebastian Stan brings anything to non-action movies, and his parts of the film drag (which is bad, because he’s the main character).

Remarkably, the supporting cast of William Hurt, Christopher Plummer, Diane Ladd, Samuel L. Jackson, Amy Madigan, Peter Fonda and Ed Harris have combined for two acting Oscars and sixteen nominations. Christopher Plummer ia absolutrly radiant here; it’s some of his best work. Peter Fonda, in his final movie, also gives an indelible performance. Amy Madigan’s part is perfect matched to Madigan’s piercing eyes. And every Social Security-eligible actor is very, very good.

The battle scenes in the flashback are well-crafted, and Jeremy Irvine is very good as the hero. But this won’t make any list of top 20 Vietnam War films.

If you must watch The Last Full Measure, which is available on most of the streaming platforms, just fast forward until you see somebody old.

Stream of the Week: JIRGA – a quest to atone

Sam Smith in JIRGA

In Jirga, the Australian soldier Mike (Sam Smith) returns alone to Afghanistan three years after his tour of duty. Mike begins a quest that takes him into the stark desolation of the hinterlands, where he must survive both the unforgiving elements and the Taliban. We don’t know his objective until it is revealed 44 minutes into the film. What we do immediately understand is that the stakes are very high.

The tension builds as we wonder if Mike will survive, but Jirga is a contemplation. How do you redress a wrong that you’ve committed? By paying compensation? By asking for forgiveness? By an act of atonement? Or of self-sacrifice?

The Afghanistan in Jirga is as dramatic a desolate landscape as I’ve ever seen, often starkly beautiful. At one point, Gilmour relieves the severity of the desert by dropping in a totally incongruous and unexpected paddle boat in the form of a pastel swan.

Sam Smith is in almost every frame of Jirga, and his performance is impeccable.

Jirga is a notable achievement in filmmaking. Gilmour had received permission to film among the Pashtun in Pakistan’s tribal areas, but was frustrated (and finally harassed) by the ISI, Pakistan’s notorious intelligence force. Gilmour bought a small Sony camera in Islamabad and flew himself and Smith to Kabul. There, under the constant protection of bodyguards, Gilmour was able to shoot the film on the fly; conditions were safe enough to shoot during 20 days of a two-month sojourn. Only two of the Afghan cast had ever been in a movie. Gilmour’s previous film Son of a Lion was also set among the Pashtun and is available on Amazon Prime.

JIRGA

I saw Jirga at Cinema Club Silicon Valley, with a Q&A with writer-director-camera operator Benjamin Gilmour. Gilmour got the idea for the film in his other work as a paramedic, encountering the PTSD of Australian veterans of the Middle East wars.

Gilmour observed that “male bravery is taught as how well you can fight”, and focused Jirga on Mike’s non-violent courage in risking – and even offering -his life. Gilmour developed Mike’s story so the “moral injury he suffered doesn’t take the tragic path” of alcoholic self-medication or suicide that Gilmour has observed firsthand in combat vets.

Jirga was Australia’s submission to the Academy Awards. It made my list of 10 Overlooked Movies of 2019. You can stream Jirga from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu and Redbox.

1917: why all the fuss?

George MacKay in 1917

The WW I thriller 1917 is a only a solid movie, despite groundbreaking technical achievements. The story is simple – two British soldiers must race across nine miles of enemy territory to prevent a doomed attack. One of them has been cynically selected because his brother would be one of the soldiers to walk into the German deathtrap. Will they survive a series of perils and make it in time?

There are moments which are essentially the equivalents of video games or amusement park rides, especially a tunnel cave-in, a crashing biplane and an unexpectedly roaring river. Now, a viewer knows that there is NO MOVIE HERE AT ALL if at least one of these guys doesn’t reach the objective, or at least come heartbreakingly close; that knowledge removes some of the tension from the dangerous situations in the first three-quarters of the film.

The screenplay, co-written by director Sam Mendes, is very lame; unbelievably, it has been nominated for an Oscar. One of the leads regards his tranquil surroundings with “I don’t like this place,” which is movie foreshadowing as obvious as “It’s quiet…too quiet.” I don’t consider it a spoiler to let you know something bad happens in “I don’t like this place“,

On to the technical achievements. Mendes has constructed the film as if it were one, continuous shot. This is NOT a gimmick; the continuity and the illusion of a single shot is all in service to the story by reinforcing the POV of our protagonists. It is brilliantly photographed by cinematographer Roger Deakins.

Deakins is a lead pipe cinch to win a deserved Cinematography Oscar. He won in 2018 for Blade Runner 2049 and has 12 other Oscar nominations. 1917 is in amazing achievement for Deakins.

At one point, a protagonist is creeping through a decimated town that is filled with enemy snipers. Every so often, a flare lights up the ruins as if it were daylight, and our soldier has to sprint toward darkness, essentially racing the flares. It’s a remarkable visual, and I never seen anything like it before.

There are scenes where we follow the soldiers down miles of trenches – a remarkable job of production design. Mendes also seems to have gotten all of the period details right.

George MacKay is excellent as one of the protagonists, Corporal Scofield. As a character, Scofield spends the movie in fear, determination or both simultaneously, so MacKay doesn’t need to use much range, but he is compelling. MacKay has the kind of face that is well-suited for a character haunted by dread and tragedy.

The always-charismatic Benedict Cumberbatch makes the most out of his two minutes on screen. as does Andrew Scott.

I admired the movie wizardry of 1917, but I wasn’t thrilled or moved by it. 1917 won a Golden Globe and has garnered a zillion Oscar nominations. I see 1917 as this year’s Avatar, a technical marvel that no one will be talking about in five years.

JIRGA: a quest to atone

Sam Smith in JIRGA

In Jirga, the Australian soldier Mike (Sam Smith) returns alone to Afghanistan three years after his tour of duty. Mike begins a quest that takes him into the stark desolation of the hinterlands, where he must survive both the unforgiving elements and the Taliban. We don’t know his objective until it is revealed 44 minutes into the film. What we do immediately understand is that the stakes are very high.

The tension builds as we wonder if Mike will survive, but Jirga is a contemplation. How do you redress a wrong that you’ve committed? By paying compensation? By asking for forgiveness? By an act of atonement? Or of self-sacrifice?

The Afghanistan in Jirga is as dramatic a desolate landscape as I’ve ever seen, often starkly beautiful. At one point, Gilmour relieves the severity of the desert by dropping in a totally incongruous and unexpected paddle boat in the form of a pastel swan.

Sam Smith is in almost every frame of Jirga, and his performance is impeccable.

Jirga is a notable achievement in filmmaking. Gilmour had received permission to film among the Pashtun in Pakistan’s tribal areas, but was frustrated (and finally harassed) by the ISI, Pakistan’s notorious intelligence force. Gilmour bought a small Sony camera in Islamabad and flew himself and Smith to Kabul. There, under the constant protection of bodyguards, Gilmour was able to shoot the film on the fly; conditions were safe enough to shoot during 20 days of a two-month sojourn. Only two of the Afghan cast had ever been in a movie. Gilmour’s previous film Son of a Lion was also set among the Pashtun and is available on Amazon Prime.

JIRGA

I saw Jirga at Cinema Club Silicon Valley, with a Q&A with writer-director-camera operator Benjamin Gilmour. Gilmour got the idea for the film in his other work as a paramedic, encountering the PTSD of Australian veterans of the Middle East wars.

Gilmour observed that “male bravery is taught as how well you can fight”, and focused Jirga on Mike’s non-violent courage in risking – and even offering -his life. Gilmour developed Mike’s story so the “moral injury he suffered doesn’t take the tragic path” of alcoholic self-medication or suicide that Gilmour has observed firsthand in combat vets.

Jirga was Australia’s submission to the Academy Awards. It has secured a late July limited release in NY and LA. I’ll let you know if Jirga opens in Bay Area theaters and when it is available to stream.

CLOWNVETS: unexpectedly powerful

CLOWNVETS

The winning documentary Clownvets pairs two groups of sufferers to bring relief to one and healing to the other.  First, we meet US military veterans in rural Michigan and learn about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from their personal perspectives, and from their families and their health providers.  Then, unexpectedly, the famed hospital clown Patch Adams enters.  (Adams was portrayed by Robin Williams in a much reviled movie, but this is the real Patch Adams ).  Adams has the idea of teaching the vets how to clown and bringing them to entertain the most severely disabled in the Third World.

The result is remarkable.  Somehow Adams is able to introduce clowning to these macho guys, and then he brings them to facilities that warehouse the disabled in Guatemala.  The kindest description of these places might be “hell hole”. The plight of the patients/victims is heartbreaking.  The vets throw themselves wholeheartedly into brightening these deprived lives with clowning and with hands-on human compassion.

Why does clowning – of all things – seem to treat the veterans’ PTSD?  Perhaps it is the fully committed silliness and the absurd costumes – the vulnerability from intentionally looking ridiculous and acting ridiculous.  Somehow it seems to  refract/distract/heal the effects of PTSD.

I am generally not a fan of warmhearted movies, but Clownvets moved even me.  In a running time of little less than an hour, it’s able to pack an emotional punch.  I expect Clownvets to be the Feel Good hit of this year’s Cinequest.

Cinequest hosts the world premiere of Clownvets, and Patch Adams himself is expected to attend.

THEY SHALL NOT GROW OLD: technology transforms film and resurrects a generation

THEY SHALL NOT GROW OLD

In They Shall Not Grow Old, Lord of the Rings filmmaker Peter Jackson has, for the first time, layered humanity over our understanding of World War I. By slowing down the speed of the jerky WWI film footage and adding sound and color, Jackson has allowed us to relate to the real people in the Great War.   All of the narration is from the recorded oral histories of actual WW I soldiers.

Jackson started with 100 hours of archived film and 600 hours of oral histories.  Removing the jerkiness by changing the film speed makes the biggest difference, but adding the sound of what we’re seeing through the work of Foley artists and even forensic lipreaders (who knew?) is also magically impactful.  Jackson was meticulous in newly recording the sounds of actual WWI equipment and artillery.

Stuff that we thought we knew is made real for the first time.  For example, we hear story after story of underage boys being accepted by military recruiters.  The non-battle relations between the Brit and German grunts seems new. And there are new tidbits, like the “sit on the rail” sanitary technique.   The soldiers’ reactions to the Armistice is unexpected – “too exhausted to enjoy it” and “the flattest feeling”.  I counted 94 individual oral histories in the end credits.

They Shall Not Grow Old is about 90-minutes long and is accompanied by a fascinating 30-minute “making of” documentary.  Jackson points out that soldiers had seen movies, but movie cameras were a novelty, so many soldiers are filmed staring at the camera agape and trying to hold still (as for a still camera).  Jackson also takes us to see a sunken road in the film today – and explains that most of the soldiers in the archived footage were in the final 30 minutes of their lives.

As he explains in the “making of ” documentary, Jackson chose to focus on the experience of the ordinary soldier, so he does not depict the naval or air wars, the roles of women and colonial troops or the home front.  It’s all-infantry all of the time.  That distillation is a sound choice and  allows the audience to immerse ourselves into that particular experience.

This is a generational achievement that should not be missed.

THE OUTLAW KING: medieval slaughter, falling flat

Chris Pine in THE OUTLAW KING

Chris Pine has the title role in Netflix’s The Outlaw King.  It’s the story of Robert the Bruce, who wrested control of Scotland from the English and became the Scottish king in the early 1300s. I like Chris Pine, and he makes a medieval warlord very relatable, but this movie is pretty flat. I was especially disappointed because I admired director David Mackenzie’s last movie (Hell or High Water – also with Chris Pine) so much.

I’m guessing from Mackenzie’s surname that he was drawn to Bruce as an icon of Scottish nationalism. But all these historical struggles of conquest and rebellion in the feudal era were really just tugs of war between rival warlords – the moral equivalent of the Soprano Family. To its credit, The Outlaw King (as do Shakespeare’s histories) does not overly romanticize the self-serving motivations of the nobility

The Outlaw King is kinda historically accurate – it captures the overall arc of the story, although Bruce’s archenemy, the future Edward II, was not at the battle of Loudin Hill and, hence did not engage in a mano a mano showdown with Bruce there as depicted.

On the other hand, there isn’t much in the historical record about most women in the early 1300s, particularly Bruce’s second wife, Elizabeth (Florence Pugh).  The filmmakers have constructed a pretty interesting character in Elizabeth, so that’s all to the good.

We do know that Edward II was a pretty interesting cat (not a complement), but, while The Outlaw King portrays Edward’s problems with Dad and hints at his narcissistic bravado, it misses the chance to go deeper.

There is a lot of the hacking and hewing of medieval combat a la Braveheart, in The Outlaw King, chiefly in Bruce’s pivotal victory at the battle of Loudon Hill. But the overall emptiness of the movie leaves the battle scenes, as well-crafted as they are, less thrilling than those in Orson Welles’ Chimes at Midnight and Kenneth Branagh’s Henry V.

The Outlaw King exists for those who need a dose of medieval slaughter and a spunky queen, but there’s not enough there for the rest of us.