A masterful, unblinking look into the hell of war.

It may sound a tad flippant but the First World War is a tough movie nut to crack. Its comparative lack of cinematic presence held up against WWII, or any other major 20th century war for that matter, seems a puzzler at first, yet, dig deeper into the trench mud and it’s not hard to see why.

In a genre that prides itself on guts, glory, and heroism, even in the darkest of moments, the so-called Great War has always struggled to sell itself to audiences. Put simply, there’s precious little to the war to look back on with anything but dismay, sorrow, and horror.

Initially deemed the war to end all wars, WWI was a messy, bloodthirsty conflict that had far-reaching consequences, yet largely played out in cramped, hellish trenches stretched across Europe, where fear and despair rather than heroism and glory filled the air. As many millions of young lives were lost for what amounted to little gain, and in such bleak surroundings, there are precious few stories from the trenches that lend themselves to a palatable cinematic interpretation.

In the dark depths of World War I, two young British soldiers on the Western Front, Schofield (George MacKay) and Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman), are ordered on an impossible mission to deliver an urgent message and stop thousands of men, including Blake’s older brother, from walking into a death trap. As the two journey deep into enemy territory, time is of the essence as they must confront the many horrors of the war and deliver their life-saving despatch before it’s too late.

Less a film and more an all-encompassing cinematic experience, many of the headlines surrounding 1917 will no doubt circle the film’s breath-taking technical achievement, and with good reason. With camerawork you can’t help get swept up in, what director Sam Mendes and legendary DP Roger Deakins achieve in capturing the enormity and sheer hell of war, all while keeping a steady eye on its overwhelming intimacy, is nothing short of spectacular.

The sheer mind-boggling logistics and utter chutzpah it takes to pull something like this off is impressive and overwhelming in equal measure, yet this shouldn’t distract from what is far more than a mere tech flex. The fabled one-shot that Mendes and Deakins have hung their hat on is certainly something to behold and a huge part of the film’s appeal, however, it’s all wrapped around a simple but effective plot, excellent performances, and some truly affective storytelling to become an overpoweringly comprehensive event.

Focusing on just the one-shot aspect of 1917 would do an injustice to just how much of a mammoth cinematic achievement the entire film is. From the moment we dive deep into the Western Front trenches to the perilous journey over the top and out into the war beyond, it’s clear that this isn’t your average cinema-going experience, it’s a technically proficient, genuinely terrifying rollercoaster where everything comes together to pull you in and keep you hooked.

Not that I’m saying pulling off a feature length one-shot is easy in any way, because it’s clearly not, but I’m sure any filmmaker with a decent level of technical aptitude could film something for two hours straight if they really wanted to. The real achievement here with 1917 isn’t so much the fact that Mendes and Deakins have pulled this off, it’s rather that they’ve done it while making it so powerful and utterly captivating that you just can’t take your eyes off it, regardless of how horrific or heart-breaking the action gets.

Both masterful and beautiful, the film’s camerawork helps move you past the natural desire for an edit with a flow and a sweeping grace that remains tethered to our soldiers, yet has the freedom to glide and swing throughout the war-torn landscape at will. Going into 1917 with the knowledge that you’re seeing one continuous shot will undoubtedly draw much of your initial attention, yet, thanks to the utter grandeur of the entire experience, it’s not long before you leave this aside and become swept up in proceedings.

As yet another impeccable entry in a nigh on faultless filmography, 1917’s cinematography is among the very best in Roger Deakins’ long and lauded career, with a depth and a visual range unlike anything else. Mixing sheer beauty and horror in an uncomfortable and overwhelming union, Deakins and Mendes, helped immensely by Thomas Newman’s stirring score, portray WWI in a way never witnessed before, resulting in something that will stick with you long after watching. 

Front and centre throughout, the pairing of relative unknowns in George MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman is undoubtedly a risk considering the unrelenting nature of the job at hand, yet both men step up to the challenge with a strength, nuance, and maturity well beyond their years. As names like Mark Strong, Richard Madden, Colin Firth, and Benedict Cumberbatch fade in and out of the story, it was always a risk that the two young leads would be swept away by the enormity of their surroundings, yet, in a manner befitting their characters, neither shirk their responsibilities.

In particular, MacKay is an absolute revelation as he does much of the film’s literal and metaphorical heavy lifting to come out the other end battered, bruised, and bloody, but with his head held high. Although Chapman is excellent beside him, there’s something in MacKay’s performance that complements his partner and commands the screen as he sells Lance Corporal Schofield’s confusion, vulnerability, and bloody-minded determination with admirable ease.

As something of an inevitability considering the enormity and complexities around it, 1917’s plot is as simple as they come. When Schofield and Blake are given their orders to pass on a message across enemy lines and avert certain disaster, the narrative pretty much starts and ends there. Without a subplot or a side mission in sight, the task of getting a message from point A to point B really is all 1917 focuses on, and while the simplicities of the narrative may be a little lightweight for some, its condensed nature actually works to the film’s advantage.

Stripped of the bloat and baggage that can often weigh a war film down, Sam Mendes and co-writer Krysty Wilson-Cairns strip the script to the bare bones and the frequently sparse dialogue, relatively modest stakes, and rigidly linear plot allow the film to breathe and the audience to soak in 1917’s enormous scope. With the natural drama of the two soldiers’ mission and the performances of our leads pulling us through, the low-key plot feels refreshing and a fitting analogy for a war where so much felt futile and small gains were all that could be clung on to.

Part Saving Private Ryan, part Dunkirk, 1917 is entirely its own beast as it takes the mission aspect of both films to form something else altogether, something guttural and raw in the vein of The Revenant where the human instinct for survival is pushed to its absolute limit. With modesty and grandeur, 1917 is a film that champions the will of the human spirit up against the direst of circumstances in a simple but effective approach that hits both the gut and the heart.

Mixing awe-inspiring technical prowess with a ton of spirit, 1917 is less a film and more an all-encompassing, immersive experience that leads you, whether you like it or not, through the dark core of a deeply disturbing war. As the bullets fly and the bombs drop, Sam Mendes and Roger Deakins showcase the true horror of the war while balancing it with a beautifully rich level of visual storytelling, with the much publicised one-shot capturing the Western Front like never before. Expansive yet focused, 1917 makes the most of its young leads and their environment to tell a horrific but deeply human tale of friendship, selflessness, survival, and bravery in the face of unspeakable conditions, acting as a timely reminder of our collective responsibility to ensure such dark moments as those in WWI are never revisited.