A lot male bonding goes on in Australia although men don't talk about it as such. The word "mate" can mean anything from "casual acquaintance" to "close friend," and is slung about freely. That word -- and the shared interest in friendly competition, sports, and beer -- are about the only ways this bonding is expressed. And it's all done in a lighthearted way, joking and grabass, not the deadly serious way it shows up in some male groups -- "Women have no place in this business," that sort of thing. How male solidarity develops, nobody knows, but in the case of Australia it may have something to do with the founder effect. The continent was after all settled by outcasts who had nothing in common except their marginal status. And aboriginal Australia was always a bastion of male solidarity, with lots of secret societies from whose rituals women and kids were excluded.
That male bonding is basically what this movie is about, not war. We get to know two mates -- Mark Lee and Mel Gibson -- and through them, a number of others. There's hardly a woman in the picture, even before the men join the army. If it's a war picture, it's a mighty odd one. It's an odd movie for Peter Weir too. His specialty is the projection of a mood of ominous languor, and this is his most raucous work. Not that he's lost his taste for portents of doom. The men play a rough game of football and then Weir gives us a long look at the broken face of the Sphynx and has one of the men say that the Egyptians were the first people to try to beat death.
Gibson and Lee are speedy runners, and Gibson is given the job of beating death by human effort and he fails. The Australians launch wave after wave of bayonet attacks against a well-fortified Turkish position and are mowed down uselessly. (Their attack was supposed to be a diversion and turns out to have been unnecessary.) What a waste. Winston Churchill was partly responsible and the failure of his plan may have influenced the caution he showed during World War II. His attitude towards the Americans' eagerness to attack quickly and directly could be summed up as, "You don't know what it's like."
The acting is good. When I first saw this I thought Mark Lee might become a bankable star because he seemed the more handsome of the two. On an additional viewing, he comes across as, not effeminate, but pretty, and his voice is high which seems to sap him of strength. Gibson is darker and more of a wisecracking opportunist, and the better actor of the two.
Everything leads up to the climactic charge. There isn't really very much action. What there is, is violent and quick. The most gripping scene in the film is the final one, just before the third useless wave goes over the top to its death, the wave that Lee is part of. And we see soldiers stripping themselves of their wedding rings and other sentimental objects, writing final notes to loved ones, hanging their pitiful effects from bayonets stuck into the sandbags. The scene isn't wrung for artificial tears. It doesn't have to be.
Of all the wars of the last century, World War I, which used to be called "The Great War", was probably the most mismanaged. The aristocratic officer corps was out of touch with its men and often treated them as expendable material. Sometimes it was okay to lose 10,000 of your troops if it meant the enemy would lose 11,000 of his.
It ought to be mentioned that the use of Albinoni and other composers is apt but there is an underscore of electronic pops and ricochets that doesn't fit at all.
This is an atypical movie, one well worth watching.
That male bonding is basically what this movie is about, not war. We get to know two mates -- Mark Lee and Mel Gibson -- and through them, a number of others. There's hardly a woman in the picture, even before the men join the army. If it's a war picture, it's a mighty odd one. It's an odd movie for Peter Weir too. His specialty is the projection of a mood of ominous languor, and this is his most raucous work. Not that he's lost his taste for portents of doom. The men play a rough game of football and then Weir gives us a long look at the broken face of the Sphynx and has one of the men say that the Egyptians were the first people to try to beat death.
Gibson and Lee are speedy runners, and Gibson is given the job of beating death by human effort and he fails. The Australians launch wave after wave of bayonet attacks against a well-fortified Turkish position and are mowed down uselessly. (Their attack was supposed to be a diversion and turns out to have been unnecessary.) What a waste. Winston Churchill was partly responsible and the failure of his plan may have influenced the caution he showed during World War II. His attitude towards the Americans' eagerness to attack quickly and directly could be summed up as, "You don't know what it's like."
The acting is good. When I first saw this I thought Mark Lee might become a bankable star because he seemed the more handsome of the two. On an additional viewing, he comes across as, not effeminate, but pretty, and his voice is high which seems to sap him of strength. Gibson is darker and more of a wisecracking opportunist, and the better actor of the two.
Everything leads up to the climactic charge. There isn't really very much action. What there is, is violent and quick. The most gripping scene in the film is the final one, just before the third useless wave goes over the top to its death, the wave that Lee is part of. And we see soldiers stripping themselves of their wedding rings and other sentimental objects, writing final notes to loved ones, hanging their pitiful effects from bayonets stuck into the sandbags. The scene isn't wrung for artificial tears. It doesn't have to be.
Of all the wars of the last century, World War I, which used to be called "The Great War", was probably the most mismanaged. The aristocratic officer corps was out of touch with its men and often treated them as expendable material. Sometimes it was okay to lose 10,000 of your troops if it meant the enemy would lose 11,000 of his.
It ought to be mentioned that the use of Albinoni and other composers is apt but there is an underscore of electronic pops and ricochets that doesn't fit at all.
This is an atypical movie, one well worth watching.