Paths of Glory

Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory (1957) is a fine anti-war film. Broad in its dramatics and overemphatic in its speechmaking, it succeeds in its primary goal, indicting the madness and futility of warfare.

Two years into the First World War, the French Army is stalemated and desperate for a breakthrough. Ambitious General Mireau (George Macready) is goaded by his commanding officer, General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou), into undertaking a suicidal attack on the German "anthill" with the promise of a promotion. The brunt of the offensive falls upon the 701st Regiment, led by Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas). The attack fails disastrously, and General Mireau blames Dax's men for cowardice, choosing (with Broulard's consent) to execute three men (Ralph Meeker, Timothy Carey, Joe Terkel) as an "example" for the Army. Despite Dax's defense, the soldiers are convicted by a kangaroo court, and their only hope may be Dax's knowledge of Mireau's unbecoming conduct during the assault.

Working from Humphrey Cobb's novel, Paths of Glory is an angry film, a searing indictment of military incompetence. Kubrick and writers Jim Thompson and Calder Willingham create a powerful spectacle that transcends its somewhat hokey dramatics. It's a horrifying and unsettling film, with a decidedly unflattering of the French Army: Soldiers are callously thrown away like flies, with a choice between German bullets or friendly fire. Officers scheme for personal advancement, with backstabbing and pompous posturing second nature: Dax's vengeance on Mireau is perceived by Broulard as mere self-promotion! More ably than earlier films like Grand Illusion, Kubrick shows that crossing modern warfare, with indiscriminate, mechanized mass killing, and an engrained class system is a recipe for tragedy.

Unfortunately, the film repeatedly falls back on stilted dramatics and blustery speechifying. The soldiers are unambiguously innocent and their officers either ruthlessly ambitious or simple-minded fools. Kubrick doesn't spare us the most obvious tropes: the generals dine, dance and sip wine in a luxurious mansion while their soldiers sweat it out in filthy trenches. Dax's speeches are improbably emphatic and on the nose, and a tacky coda provides an additional jolt of sappy sentimentality. Bruce Beresford's Breaker Morant (1980) would cover the same ground in a much more ambiguous, less stilted manner. Beresford's Australian cavalrymen are victims of a dirty war with no clear moral boundaries; Kubrick's French soldiers are merely innocent pawns of a cruel system.

Kubrick's direction is brilliant. Made on a modest budget, Glory has the feel of a much more expensive film, and Kubrick's inventive use of German locations gives it the look of an epic, with its huge battlefield and oversized offices. Kubrick and photograph Georg Krause make repeated use of impressive tracking shots: through the trenches, an officer's ball, and most notably the attack on the Anthill, a gobsmacking, gritty spectacle that doesn't reach for grim effects. The movie retains a lean pace for the first half but sags a bit after the trial scenes; the powerfully-staged execution is counterbalanced by the lame finale. On the whole, though, the film is admirably economical and maintains a potent drive and dramatic force.

Kirk Douglas is perfectly cast as both upstanding liberal officer and avatar of righteous fury; this is definitely one of his signature roles. The rest of the cast is hit-and-miss. George Macready (Vera Cruz) and Adolphe Menjou (The Front Page) play over-the-top buffoons of the sort Kubrick would more successfully portray in Dr. Strangelove. Ralph Meeker (The Dirty Dozen), Timothy Carey (One-Eyed Jacks) and Joe Terkel (The Shining) give their all in rather one-dimensional parts. Kubrick's future wife, Christiane, is the German bar girl.

Paths of Glory certainly holds up as a potent anti-war message. For a more subtle and reflective film, I direct you again to Breaker Morant, but Kubrick's work is a fine - if flawed - effort.