Film is moving images and therefore war films tend to concentrate on the drama, the spectacular side of war: combat. The degree of 'realism' with which films show battles is generally used as a measure of their quality. But unpleasant things like the stench of the battlefield invariably get left out and the spectator is not required to cower in a slit trench. Many war films – even documentaries - are in fact rather like Verdi operas. So 'realism' needs those inverted commas. There are of course excellent Verdi operas, but you might as well go to the other extreme and completely refrain from depicting the horrors of combat in films dealing with war.
Although violence plays a major role in a number of his films, Robert Bresson rarely shows it (' because you know it is false, because it is forced'). He detested what he called 'photographed theatre', the dramatic conventions of film and relied on amateurs speaking in flat voices and showing little or no emotion in their faces and gestures. Combined with natural sound (keys turning in locks, etc.) and carefully observed material details the effect is to create a heightened sense of reality. I feel fully alert when I watch a Bresson film, even though I frankly find some of his work exasperating.
In the case of 'Un condamné à mort s'est échappé' (A man escaped) Bresson's 'minimalist' method results in the best war film I've ever seen. The title sins against narrative orthodoxy by giving the end away. The simple story, which closely follows a real event, may therefore as well be told: during World War II a French resistance fighter named Fontaine is caught, imprisoned and condemned to death. With his inner strength as his main resource and small gestures of solidarity from fellow prisoners he manages to escape.
The film is mainly about the how of the escape: Fontaine turning over the problems in his mind, the preparation of his 'equipment', the nightly stalk out of the prison maze. Much of the action is set in the claustrophobic space of Fontaine's cell. The camera work there is so 'dry' and focused on objects and gestures that I sometimes felt I was watching an instruction film. Well, anyone who has ever been completely absorbed in an urgent activity knows that at that moment there is just the task at hand, no drama. The brief snatches of Mozart accompanying life-affirming contacts with fellow prisoners provide an almost startling contrast.
Bresson is not noted for slapstick, but there are humorous moments in his films. Here the humour comes right at the end: Fontaine and his young cell mate Jost (whom he initially distrusts but who in the end is indispensable for his escape) have left their shoes at one of the hurdles, so they disappear into the darkness with the ginger steps of people hurrying barefoot over gravel. 'If my mother could see me now', Jost blurts out. And Mozart is again heard in all his glory.
Why is this, for me, the best war film? The hero is completely cornered, no escape seems possible. But the worst can be a starting point for salvation. Starting with the unlocking of his handcuffs, Fontaine (who looks more like a priest than a fire-eater – not accidentally, I think) one by one overcomes all obstacles because he opens his mind: 'the wind blows where it will' is the film's subtitle – a quotation from the Bible; Hebrew uses the same word for wind and spirit. And Bresson has me on red alert without any use of pyrotechnics.
Although violence plays a major role in a number of his films, Robert Bresson rarely shows it (' because you know it is false, because it is forced'). He detested what he called 'photographed theatre', the dramatic conventions of film and relied on amateurs speaking in flat voices and showing little or no emotion in their faces and gestures. Combined with natural sound (keys turning in locks, etc.) and carefully observed material details the effect is to create a heightened sense of reality. I feel fully alert when I watch a Bresson film, even though I frankly find some of his work exasperating.
In the case of 'Un condamné à mort s'est échappé' (A man escaped) Bresson's 'minimalist' method results in the best war film I've ever seen. The title sins against narrative orthodoxy by giving the end away. The simple story, which closely follows a real event, may therefore as well be told: during World War II a French resistance fighter named Fontaine is caught, imprisoned and condemned to death. With his inner strength as his main resource and small gestures of solidarity from fellow prisoners he manages to escape.
The film is mainly about the how of the escape: Fontaine turning over the problems in his mind, the preparation of his 'equipment', the nightly stalk out of the prison maze. Much of the action is set in the claustrophobic space of Fontaine's cell. The camera work there is so 'dry' and focused on objects and gestures that I sometimes felt I was watching an instruction film. Well, anyone who has ever been completely absorbed in an urgent activity knows that at that moment there is just the task at hand, no drama. The brief snatches of Mozart accompanying life-affirming contacts with fellow prisoners provide an almost startling contrast.
Bresson is not noted for slapstick, but there are humorous moments in his films. Here the humour comes right at the end: Fontaine and his young cell mate Jost (whom he initially distrusts but who in the end is indispensable for his escape) have left their shoes at one of the hurdles, so they disappear into the darkness with the ginger steps of people hurrying barefoot over gravel. 'If my mother could see me now', Jost blurts out. And Mozart is again heard in all his glory.
Why is this, for me, the best war film? The hero is completely cornered, no escape seems possible. But the worst can be a starting point for salvation. Starting with the unlocking of his handcuffs, Fontaine (who looks more like a priest than a fire-eater – not accidentally, I think) one by one overcomes all obstacles because he opens his mind: 'the wind blows where it will' is the film's subtitle – a quotation from the Bible; Hebrew uses the same word for wind and spirit. And Bresson has me on red alert without any use of pyrotechnics.