The War Film, just like any genre of
filmmaking, has a distinct ebb and flow to its popularity. Horror cycles
through stretches of slashers, hauntings, and remakes both foreign and
domestic. The current phase for romances seems to be an endless output of
Nicholas Sparks adaptations and comedy is indisputably ruled by Judd Apatow and
Seth Rogen. For the most part, every genre of film is always in some way
present. War, however, is unique in that it goes through long periods without
being present at all. These ‘dry spells’ – arguably the result of social and
political atmosphere – are almost invariably followed by sudden floods of
films, often kicked off by a new and daring entry in the genre.
A few examples of this… the 1960’s
were filled to the brim with patriotic films about World War II. Aside from the
lesser known genre from Italy known as ‘Macaroni Combat’ (obviously a pairing
with ‘Spaghetti Western’), the 1970’s does not boast a wealth of war films.
Now, before you yell out Apocalypse Now
(1979) or The Deer Hunter (1978), I am compelled to state the
former is at its core a creative adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and the latter is much
more about life after Vietnam, not the war itself. In any case, it was not
until Platoon (1986) won four Academy
Awards and opened the gates for a rush of pictures about the Vietnam conflict
that the genre exploded once more. Incidentally, a very similar situation was
created for a second time with the release of Saving Private Ryan in 1998. Since then we have had The Thin Red Line (1998), The Patriot (2000), Band of Brothers (2001),
Enemy at the Gates (2001), Black Hawk
Down (2001), The Lost Battalion (2001), Windtalkers (2002), We Were Soldiers
(2002), The Last Samurai (2003), Flyboys (2006), Flags of Our Fathers (2006),
Letters From Iwo Jima (2006), and finally The Pacific (2010) – a late-comer to be quite honest. Things have
arguably slowed down again (the only entry of late being 2012’s Act of Valor). But I am of the opinion
that it is when the audience believes it has ‘seen it all’ that filmmakers take
the time and effort to make something truly special. Such is the case with Sam
Peckinpah’s 1977 film Cross of Iron.
Cross
of Iron is undeservedly obscure in the canon of American war films. In
fact, it is much more likely that the average movie-goer would recognize titles
such as To Hell and Back (1955) or Pork Chop Hill (1959). Of course, this
might easily be explained away by its company upon release: Star Wars… Also, it may not have helped
that it focused on World War II, a conflict audiences were frankly bored with
by that point, as well as the fact that it centered on a platoon of Nazi
soldiers on the unfamiliar Russian front. Though Sam Peckinpah was well-known
and loved as the director of The Wild
Bunch (1969) and Straw Dogs (1971),
his films were already being lumped in with associations of art and pretense.
The cinematic atmosphere in Hollywood in 1977 was fresh, exciting, and all
about the blockbuster. Chalk up one more casualty to Steven Spielberg and his
damned Great White thrill ride.
Though many overlooked films from
decades past have found a new life on home video, Cross of Iron still wallows in the dungeons of hard-to-find. The UK
seems to have a healthy respect for great masterpieces, as the film has
recently been given a stunning new blu-ray transfer – exclusively on Region B.
For those of us on this side of the pond, we will have to make do with Hen’s
Tooth Video’s average dvd for $19.95 plus shipping. Curses. Nevertheless, it is
an experience well worth the expense. For Cross
of Iron is most certainly one of the greatest war films ever made!
There are three overriding themes
present in Cross of Iron: The folly
of heroism, the burden of leadership, and the concept of war as life. The last
is easily the most forward and pervasive, but the other two are equally hard to
miss. This comes from the simple truth that heroism and leadership are both
inextricably linked to the waging of war; therefore as Peckinpah explores the
connections between wartime and living, he very naturally explores these
concepts as well.
Corporal (soon to be Sergeant)
Steiner – played the great James Coburn – is introduced at the beginning of the
film as what we assume will be the classic war hero archetype we expect. This
expectation is quickly and effectively dashed however, when we see his
callousness towards the death of young boys used as forward guard by the Soviet
army. He also apparently contradicts himself by allowing one of them to live,
even refusing to shoot him when ordered to by the new “heroic horse’s ass”
Captain Stransky. Steiner is staunchly independent and dismissive of his commanding
officers even as they laud and praise him for his selfless bravery in combat. He
does not style himself as a hero, and challenges the audience to forgo thinking
of him in any such way. Heroism is just another word for foolishness. The
audience can see as much when Lieutenant Meyer leads the counterattack against
Soviet forces and ends his birthday with a bayonet and a bullet.
Indeed, Steiner knows all too well
what comes from being a hero. When Stransky demands an answer as to why he did
not search for one of his platoon members gone missing, Steiner replies that it
seemed “unwise to risk the safety of the platoon for just one man”. This is a
principle that he will disregard later on when his entire mission becomes to
get his men home at any cost, but even as he takes revenge for the dead, he
stops just short of its completion. It is as if he knows that the ultimate
retribution for the injustices of war would make him a hero, and that is
something he will never allow himself to be.
The irony of Steiner’s refusal to be
a hero is that his choice forces him to be the ideal in leadership. As Captain
Keisel (played by David Warner) says, “Steiner is a myth. Men like him are our
last hope.” Peckinpah uses the setting of an army in full retreat as an
opportunity to put the various burdens of leadership under the microscope, and
to examine the reactions of those forced to bear them. Colonel Brandt (James
Mason) is the tired, seasoned leader. Captain Keisel is cynical, but undeniably
loyal. Captain Stransky is everything detestable – manipulative, self-serving,
with a monstrous superiority complex – and Steiner simply loves his men. Each
of these personalities must clash, whether fruitlessly or by necessity, with
the monster of war. And in turn, each outcome is vastly different.
Above all, the gorilla in the room
is the war. Unlike many seminal classics such as Full Metal Jacket (1987) or the aforementioned We Were Soldiers, Cross of
Iron never presents the audience with a glimpse of the home the soldiers
incessantly talk about, nor the fabled peace that existed before and surely
will come to exist again. The war has always existed, it seems. Or at least, it
has existed so long that our characters can remember nothing else.
This concept of war as life unveils
itself directly in two jarring scenes. The first takes place at a rear-area
hospital. Soldiers there are visited by a high-ranking officer who presents
them with a gift of vegetables (rare for enlisted men in wartime). The green,
healthy, growing things – a symbol of life in all cultures – are then
ravenously attacked by the patients, like a horde of zombies after brains.
The second scene happens much later,
when Steiner and his platoon, marching back to friendly lines, come across a
group of female Soviet soldiers. Though Steiner tries his utmost to keep his
troops from engaging in any sexual activity with the women, he is not entirely
successful. The result is two of his men meeting their fates at the hands of
these femme fatales. Even sexuality, the very process by which life is created,
must end in war and violence.
Sergeant Steiner cannot comprehend
the thought of going home, even when faced with the possibility. His nurse
implores him, “The violence must end! It must!” He only laughs. A chance
romantic encounter with her at the hospital ward is utterly shattered when he
promptly suits up to return to the front. “Do you love the war so much?” she
asks, “or are you afraid of what you will be without it?” He leaves without a word
and only smiles again once he rejoins his men.
If Steiner sees the war as his
existence, Captain Stransky sees it as simply an opportunity for advancement.
Much like the ill-fated Lieutenant Dyke in Band
of Brothers, he only wishes to use his assignment in combat to continue his
climb up the ladder. When Colonel Brandt asks him why he wanted any such post,
he replies, “I want to win the Iron Cross.” Even as they laugh about his
answer, there is an uneasy atmosphere that more than lightly intimates it was
only half a jest.
It is only Colonel Brandt, and his
aide-de-camps Captain Keisel, who seem to have any notion whatsoever that life
will go on long after the war is over. And even then, only the Colonel is
capable of planning for it. “What will we do when we lose this war?” he asks.
“Prepare of the next one,” Keisel answers. Even Keisel, for all his awareness
and cynicism, is incapable of comprehending life without war.
That does not stop Brandt from
looking to the future, however. In the final death throes of the retreat, he
forces Keisel to escape to Germany with the General’s staff. When he protests,
Brandt simply says, “You're a brave man, braver than you think you are. One of
these days there will be a need for brave civilians, had you thought of that?
In the new Germany, if such a thing is allowed to exist, there will be need for
builders, for thinkers, for poets. I begin to see now what your job is to be. I
will make this my final order to you; you will search out and contact all of
these better people, as you call them, and together you will take on the
responsibility that goes with survival.”
In the end, that is Peckinpah’s
charge to his audience, to us. In this time in history, when war is everywhere:
The USA and Terrorism, Africa and Itself, North Korea and Everyone. The need is
for those who will look to peace. War is not life, even if we believe it so.
The art of Cross of Iron is this: It
is a declaration of war on war.
The final scene of the film
synthesizes these three themes and molds them together to cement Peckinpah’s
ultimate statement. Steiner finds Captain Stransky in the abandoned command
post as the Soviet Army overruns their position. Rather than kill him for the
injustices he has committed, Steiner conscripts him into service and hands him
a machine gun.
“Alright,” Stransky says, “I will
show you how a Prussian officer can fight!”
“And I will show you,” Steiner
replies, “where the Iron Crosses grow.”
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