World War I … The War to End All Wars … The War of the Nations … The Great War … Jerry Rhine-Felled … Colonel Mustard Gas … Wayne Gretzky. Whatever you call this bitch, itsa no good. But wow, there’s just no breaking the English spirit on film. Get ready for a spot o’ tea and a trench o’ war as the Restorer of the Rings takes us through WWI, homestyle.
I can’t help wondering if this war documentary would have done better in the hands of Ken Burns instead of Peter Jackson. I’m sure that statement will strike some as blasphemy – how could one of those war-tardy Yanks truly understand anything about the major disasters of the 20th century? How indeed. I guarantee this much: the focus would have been significantly different – Ken Burns likes naming names and telling the stories of specific heroes, villains, and commoners within the context of war. Peter Jackson’s focus completely ignored specific names and big picture focus. Jackson presented as if each audience member were a teenage Brit in 1914: this is how you felt; this is what you would have seen, said, heard, worn, eaten; this is what you would have experienced.
Whether or not I found the filmmaking tack to my liking, I cannot possibly fault the film on the grounds of poor restoration science; who could have guessed that one can take choppy, un-synced, and threadbare home movies from 1914-1918 and turn them into a 3D celebration? One cannot marvel enough at the expertise demonstrated in bringing this film to theaters. It’s like taking a Model T and competing in the Indy 500. Maybe it won’t win, but damn if there isn’t something marvelous about getting it in the race.
As if it were not painfully obvious from the above, They Shall Not Grow Old explores the chronology of an English soldier in World War I through spliced footage voice-over recounts from the era. It begins with the outbreak of the war and the enthusiasm of the UK and weaves its personal pan pizza labyrinthine way to the labyrinthinian trenches of France. Names? Places? Battles? Pfft. However, while the proper nouns are mysteriously absent, the meticulous details are omnipresent. As an English solider, I’d have a ration of rolls and bacon for every breakfast, I’d use my toothbrush to polish my buttons, and on the front lines, I’d crap from a big trench into a smaller trench with four of my best friends. And, yes, Peter Jackson did not skip the visual joy of men taking a collective dump. If Jackson could have presented this film in smell-o-vision, he would have. We should all be thankful on at least one level.
They Shall Not Grow Old is a magnificent science project. I would love for the Wingnuts group to restore and remake every piece of ancient footage, even the racist stuff by DW Griffith. Hmmm, on second thought … anyway, this was a grand restoration and a wonderful indoctrination to war life for the uninitiated. I really feel like I lived part of the war myself. Now … nobody asked if that was what I wanted. Much as I love war chat; I really like to keep it at arm’s length. While I love to discuss McClellan and Fredericksburg and the Northern Lights appearing above battlegrounds in Virginia, I don’t actually want to feel like I’ve been there. And you’ll have to forgive me if I’ve selected the wrong war to give details; I’m not kidding when I say that –for a war film- this movie had an absolute dearth of proper nouns.
♪Over there, grand affair
Long ago, yes we know, but beware
That Wingnuts are coming
Yeah Frodo’s bummin’
There are no more hobbits
Everywhere
They’ll prepare and take care
The footage in immense disrepair
And they’ll splice together
With glue and tether
And they won’t stop until
There’s a story
To declare♫
Rated R, 99 Minutes
Director: Peter Jackson
Writer: History
Genre: The life of war
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Your nostalgic grandfather
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: The kids forced to watch this
♪ Parody Inspired by “Over There”
