King & Country

Fresh off their collaboration on The Servant (1963), a landmark of British cinema, Joseph Losey and Dirk Bogarde reteam for King & Country (1964), a middling mediation on war and military justice. The film's story is nothing special, playing as Paths of Glory's English cousin. Still, powerhouse acting and some neat directoral flourishes make it worthwhile.

During World War I, Captain Hargreaves (Dirk Bogarde) is assigned to defend Private Hemp (Tom Courtenay), accused of desertion. The naive Hemp makes no attempt to hide his crime, arguing that it was a momentary lapse in judgment. Hargreaves dislikes Hemp, but his own experiences in the war make him sympathetic to his predicament. The trial is a foregone conclusion, however, with a Doctor (Leo McKern) refusing to admit Hemp was shellshocked and Hemp's past record declared irrelevant. With the verdict inevitable, Hargreaves tries to argue for leniency.

Until Vietnam came along, World War I was the ideal setting for anti-war films, with its muddy trenches, mechanized slaughter, inconclusive combat and political ambiguities. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) defined the genre, and later films like All Quiet on the Western Front, The Grand Illusion and Paths of Glory piled on the doom and gloom. For the war's "adventurous aspects," filmmakers usually had to look to the air (The Dawn Patrol, Blue Max) or peripheral theaters (The African Queen, Lawrence of Arabia).

King & Country works well-enough, but it can't help but remind viewers of other, better films. The film lacks the hectoring tone of the aforementioned Kubrick film, but it's not as dramatically powerful either. While Hemp earns our sympathy, Hargreaves isn't very well-drawn, with a past trauma only hinted at and his growing investment in the case not very convincing. The depictions of army callousness won't shock anybody and the bizarre interstitial material (especially the "trial" Hemp's colleagues give a rat) doesn't work either. Even in 1964, there can't have been much fresh about King & Country.

Losey provides some neat directoral flourishes, especially interesting montage work, intercutting speeches with flashbacks, photographs and fantasies (shades of Oliver Stone?). The strict focus on the mud-filled trenches, and absence of battle scenes, lets the anti-war message hit home. The court martial, held in a mouldering trench, makes an interestingly informal setting, and certainly the gloomy, muddy atmosphere is well-conveyed.

The actors sell the drama. Tom Courtenay made this film in the midst of his early career boomlet: The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, Billy Liar, Doctor Zhivago. He's excellent as usual, making Hemp inarticulate and naive, a believable and compelling stand-in for Great War soldiers everywhere. Dirk Bogarde struggles with an underwritten part, making Hargreaves compelling through sheer charisma. The supporting cast includes Leo McKern's (A Man for All Seasons) callous doctor, James Villiers (The Ruling Class) as a trial prosecutor, Jeremy Spenser (Fahrenheit 451) as a soldier and Barry Foster (Frenzy) in a tiny part.

King & Country is okay, but aside from the acting it's just another denunciation of the Great War. Its greatest legacy is inspiring the "Flanders Pigeon Murderer" episode of Blackadder Goes Forth, for which we owe Joseph Losey our eternal thanks.