In this post 9/11 era, war has reinvented itself as a morally righteous act, no matter the outcome or manner in which it is executed. The movies have reinforced this notion with films like Fury, a World War II adventure attempting to scale the heights of Saving Private Ryan or Platoon though ultimately regressing to its own variation of gratuitous carnage and destruction. Such films seem to have a chip on their shoulders; how does one portray an event so ubiquitous to modern culture and so thoroughly researched by historians as to give us a new angle and understanding of the dimensions of such an atrocious existence? This answer may never be reached, although Fury does make a noble endeavor to proclaim the bravery and courage of the American military, in this case the US Armored Division.
Writer-director David Ayer, who has progressed from writing pulpy action scripts like The Fast and the Furious and S.W.A.T. to those of a more serious tone, nevertheless cannot seem to forget his roots as an action first, character second kind of filmmaker. Ayer has constantly focused on the 'brotherhood' of his characters, but that may be all he has to say about them. The four men occupying the tank in this film say they have been together since the Allied invasion of Africa, yet little else is mentioned about this. Furthermore, the script borrows far too much material outright from Saving Private Ryan, right down to the main characteristics of the main roles. Brad Pitt's Wardaddy is the quiet, unspoken father figure whose troops are willing to die with him (just like Tom Hanks). Shia LaBeouf is the Bible-quoting gunman who seems to have almost supernatural-like aim (just like Barry Pepper). And Logan Lerman is the young, totally inexperienced new addition to the tank who has not been trained for such an assignment but ultimately proves himself through a baptism of fire (just like Jeremy Davies).
Does Ayer believe most of those who go to see this will have never seen Spielberg's earlier film, or does he simply not care about the similarities? It may be that he feels the message of such a story overrides any other details, ultimately rendering them unnecessary and minimal. However, other sequences are either taken directly from Saving Private Ryan and other such films, or seem to have little to no basis in reality or logic. One that many will call to mind is when Wardaddy and the newly hired Norman invade a German apartment after taking the town. They stake out the room, find two young women, force them to cook breakfast until the rest of the tank crew, drunk and disorderly, barge in and cause discomfort and awkwardness. What does Ayer believe this sequence says about the relationship between American soldiers and German civilians? The film says nothing, although given the manner in which it is shot, this seems to be a badge of honor rather than a criticism.
Whatever the director's attitude towards such scenarios, the actors certainly give their fullest involvement. Pitt has ensured his lasting stardom through roles like this: brash, tough, yet endearing to the younger generation looking up to him. LaBeouf, for the first time in quite awhile, shows his true acting ability when he can remain focused and under control. His role is not huge but he plays it as serious and focused as can be expected. Lerman may be the weakest link, overreaching in his portrayal of an inexperienced, frightened clerk thrust into the deepest and ugliest recesses of the battlefront. He has his tough moments to be sure, but ultimately becomes somewhat cartoonish.
The strongest aspect of the film is its action sequences, which may be all Ayer and audiences will care about or take from watching the film. Certainly they leave one completely entranced and utterly aghast. The showdown between our beloved American tank and an advanced German Panzer is fully engrossing and great fun to watch. Yet, is it supposed to be this enjoyable? The final sequence as well shows our heroes surrounded by an SS brigade trapped in their broken-down tank as they attempt to fight their way out, willing to die but only by taking as many Germans with them as possible. Such scenes ultimately begin to feel like video game set-ups. We cheer quietly and feel relieved at the sight and sound of every enemy soldier whose head explodes or is cut down by bullets at such a speed as to look like a fight scene from Star Wars.
The greatest difference between Ayer and Steven Spielberg is that Spielberg never tries to excite the viewer through carnage. He is able to do this with less emphasis on grotesque shots of mutilated bodies and fiery crashes and more of a focus on the psychological and spiritual effects of war on the individual. Fury, for all its artistic merit and genuine entertainment, would rather bombard the audience with gore than invite a thought-provoking stimulus. For Ayer, the humanity of war remains out of reach, or perhaps not near at all. This film ultimately tells us war is hell; such a statement is one of the great understatements of history. Will future war films, with all the knowledge and understanding of hindsight at their fingertips, ever give us more than such a simplistic denouement or a visual repetition of events which need not be pounded into the brain?
Writer-director David Ayer, who has progressed from writing pulpy action scripts like The Fast and the Furious and S.W.A.T. to those of a more serious tone, nevertheless cannot seem to forget his roots as an action first, character second kind of filmmaker. Ayer has constantly focused on the 'brotherhood' of his characters, but that may be all he has to say about them. The four men occupying the tank in this film say they have been together since the Allied invasion of Africa, yet little else is mentioned about this. Furthermore, the script borrows far too much material outright from Saving Private Ryan, right down to the main characteristics of the main roles. Brad Pitt's Wardaddy is the quiet, unspoken father figure whose troops are willing to die with him (just like Tom Hanks). Shia LaBeouf is the Bible-quoting gunman who seems to have almost supernatural-like aim (just like Barry Pepper). And Logan Lerman is the young, totally inexperienced new addition to the tank who has not been trained for such an assignment but ultimately proves himself through a baptism of fire (just like Jeremy Davies).
Does Ayer believe most of those who go to see this will have never seen Spielberg's earlier film, or does he simply not care about the similarities? It may be that he feels the message of such a story overrides any other details, ultimately rendering them unnecessary and minimal. However, other sequences are either taken directly from Saving Private Ryan and other such films, or seem to have little to no basis in reality or logic. One that many will call to mind is when Wardaddy and the newly hired Norman invade a German apartment after taking the town. They stake out the room, find two young women, force them to cook breakfast until the rest of the tank crew, drunk and disorderly, barge in and cause discomfort and awkwardness. What does Ayer believe this sequence says about the relationship between American soldiers and German civilians? The film says nothing, although given the manner in which it is shot, this seems to be a badge of honor rather than a criticism.
Whatever the director's attitude towards such scenarios, the actors certainly give their fullest involvement. Pitt has ensured his lasting stardom through roles like this: brash, tough, yet endearing to the younger generation looking up to him. LaBeouf, for the first time in quite awhile, shows his true acting ability when he can remain focused and under control. His role is not huge but he plays it as serious and focused as can be expected. Lerman may be the weakest link, overreaching in his portrayal of an inexperienced, frightened clerk thrust into the deepest and ugliest recesses of the battlefront. He has his tough moments to be sure, but ultimately becomes somewhat cartoonish.
The strongest aspect of the film is its action sequences, which may be all Ayer and audiences will care about or take from watching the film. Certainly they leave one completely entranced and utterly aghast. The showdown between our beloved American tank and an advanced German Panzer is fully engrossing and great fun to watch. Yet, is it supposed to be this enjoyable? The final sequence as well shows our heroes surrounded by an SS brigade trapped in their broken-down tank as they attempt to fight their way out, willing to die but only by taking as many Germans with them as possible. Such scenes ultimately begin to feel like video game set-ups. We cheer quietly and feel relieved at the sight and sound of every enemy soldier whose head explodes or is cut down by bullets at such a speed as to look like a fight scene from Star Wars.
The greatest difference between Ayer and Steven Spielberg is that Spielberg never tries to excite the viewer through carnage. He is able to do this with less emphasis on grotesque shots of mutilated bodies and fiery crashes and more of a focus on the psychological and spiritual effects of war on the individual. Fury, for all its artistic merit and genuine entertainment, would rather bombard the audience with gore than invite a thought-provoking stimulus. For Ayer, the humanity of war remains out of reach, or perhaps not near at all. This film ultimately tells us war is hell; such a statement is one of the great understatements of history. Will future war films, with all the knowledge and understanding of hindsight at their fingertips, ever give us more than such a simplistic denouement or a visual repetition of events which need not be pounded into the brain?