Okay, so we all know it's not cool like to Steven Spielberg. Even his worst films are not kitchy enough to like in an "ironic" way, and his best are characterized an honest earnestness. His work is modern, not postmodern, and he is interested in things that film societies generally don't go for. Like Frank Capra, his works are celebrations of the American everyman and basic American values. Worse, he is literally the most popular filmmaker alive, and admitting you are a Spielberg fan may be a bit like admitting you like the literary works of another Stephen- one with the surname of King.
But both King and Spielberg are talented artists. I am not sure I would say that either are Great Masters, exactly, but it would be wrong to deny them their obvious attributes because of their popularity. I give this lengthy introduction to this review because I want to be absolutely clear about why I am arguing against a movie that was not only beloved by a LOT of people, but also by 96% of critics according to Rottentomates. My objection to the film is not due to what it tries to do, but how it does it. Saving Private Ryan is essentially a shock picture- it gets its emotional strength by showing lots and lots of acts violence. It is not that different from the previous picture I reviewed- The Magdalene Sisters. Both are about horrific historical events that deserve to be remembered, but both make the critical mistake of thinking that alone is enough to make a great film.
The problem with Private Ryan is that it is a brilliantly directed film that has nothing to say, really, aside from the fact that World War Two was horrific. The opening battle scene, of the invasion of Normandy, is among the greatest ever filmed, and it does seem that is what we would have seen had we been there. But then the story starts and we meet with a bunch of stock characters from every WWII movie- the Italian guy, the Jewish guy, the Irish guy, the WASP. They are sent on a mission to find James Ryan (I will not reveal the actors name to avoid spoilers). Ryan has lost his three brothers in battle, and a general sympathetic to his mother wants to spare her the loss of his remaining child. So after a brilliant opening, the rest of the movie becomes essentially a quest- to find Ryan and bring him back. The "adventures" of the men are interspaced with the worst kind of philosophic dialogue- the kind thinks it's deep, but isn't. The men in the company argue over an ethical question that you don't need a PhD in philosophy to answer- is really right to risk the lives of eight men just to ease one women's heartache? If you don't know the answer to that, you probably should see this movie.
Most everyone who praises the film does so because of its emotional impact, and some of the reviewers were so moved I wondered whether I was becoming a heartless person to not care more than I did. But no, the key difference is that the men in the movie are not real- I did not believe their cheesy dialogue or faux philosophy for one second. That is why this one fails while another simple film about war, All Quiet on the Western Front, worked- it too was not deep, but merely present people I believed in a near De Sican simplicity.
This is the kind of movie you feel bad giving a negative review to. Spielberg's intent- honoring the soldiers who gave their blood so I have the freedom to write what I want this review- is noble, and should be commended. If Spielberg had merely depicted what happened, as he had in the prologue, this really would be a masterpiece. But if you take away the violence, this is just another WWII film- where every character has a standard payoff and story arc. Looking back on it, I find my self more frustrated than anything. Spielberg demonstrated with the prologue that you could make a realistic account of the war. So why didn't he?
Saving Private Ryan (1998)