The Lost Patrol (1934)

John Ford's The Lost Patrol (1934) is an existential war film masquerading as a straightforward adventure. Dated and flawed, it nonetheless retains a certain power through its grim, stark simplicity - and Victor McLaglen's powerhouse performance.

Mesopotamia, 1917 at the height of World War I. A British cavalry patrol loses its Captain to an Arab sniper, leaving his tough Sergeant (Victor McLaglen) to take command. Unfortunately, the Captain is the only man who knew the patrol's destination, so the unit must wander, hoping to link up with British forces. They come across an oasis, but find themselves pinned down by the mysterious Arabs, who pick off the command one by one. As their numbers dwindle, the soldiers become desperate: some pick a fight with the Arabs, some try to escape, and religious nut Saunders (Boris Karloff) loses his mind completely.

The Lost Patrol is a lean, mean film, clocking in at a fast-paced 72 minutes. In approved Agatha Christie style, the main characters are bumped off one by one, with straightforward dialogue and exposition marking time between deaths. What was likely a budget-conscious decision to limit the film's scope gives the movie a grim, nihilistic feel. The "dirty Arabs" aren't seen until the very end but are always present, coloring the film with a bleak sense of doom. Some memorably nasty touches - a tragic "friendly fire" incident, the encounter with a hapless aviator - enhance the fatalistic atmosphere. No one is safe and everyone's a target, with the soldiers, lost in the desert and ignorant of their destination, having no choice but to stay put.

The movie isn't without flaws. The supporting cast overacts terribly, led by Boris Karloff's truly bizarre performance, and Ford and writer Dudley Nichols trot out cliche after cliche, with characters playing the harmonica, musing about their home life and showing pictures of their kids before dying. Equally tiresome is the utter stupidity of the soldiers, who shout, argue, climb trees and fall asleep when it would be best to hunker down and shut up. Max Steiner's overbearing score is another problem: musically it's fine, but loud, insistent cues drown out quiet dialogue scenes to ill-effect.

Victor McLaglen owns the film, delivering one of his best performances. His boisterous acting style is wildly hit-or-miss: in The Informer and Gunga Din, McLaglen's hamminess fits the bill, but in Ford's Cavalry Trilogy and The Quiet Man, he just seems a crude buffoon. In Lost Patrol, however, McLaglen dials down his acting style, giving a wonderfully subdued portrayal of a professional soldier, ever calm under fire.

If you can ignore the dated aspects and incongruities, The Lost Patrol is a fine, intense little film. Other war movies have done the Ten Little Indians schtick better (49th Parallel, Men in War) but few equal Ford's atmosphere of bleak fatalism.