Awards Season Ramblings, Part I: All Quiet on the Western Front

 directed by Edward Berger

written by Ian Stokell, Edward Berger and Lesley Paterson

As 2022 draws to a close, movie viewers and critics alike start to assess what their favorite movies of the year were.  I intend to vlog about some of my favorite entries, but while my editor works on my backlog, I've decided to jot down my ruminations on some of the gems I've caught on Netflix, Apple TV and other streamers in the last couple of months.

The first serious awards contender I'd like to talk about is the German-language remake of one of the most acclaimed anti-war movies ever made, All Quiet on the Western Front.  As reimagined by German filmmaker Edward Berger, the film marks the first-ever German adaptation of the 1929 German-language  novel by World War I veteran Erich Maria Remarque, the previous two adaptations in 1930 and 1979 being in the English language.

All Quiet on the Western Front tells the story a group of young German men who, caught up in nationalistic fervor stoked by their schoolteacher, join the Imperial German Army in 1917, in the final months of the Great War, only to find that it's not at all what they expected it to be. Youngsters Paul (Felix Kammerer) and his friends Albert (Aaron Hilmer), Franz (Moritz Klaus) and Ludwig (Adrian Grunewald) find themselves in the thick of things as they are marched to the frontlines straightaway, and though they make new friends along the way like Kat (Albrecht Schuch) and Tjaden (Edin Hasanovic), nothing can prepare them for the hell on earth that war inevitably is. Meanwhile, far from the frontlines, diplomat Mathias Erzberger (Daniel Bruhl) sues for peace with the Allied High Command to stop the senseless slaughter that continues to claim thousands of lives, while Imperial Army General Friedrichs (Devid Streisow), still grappling with his country's impending surrender, wants to end his campaign with one last hurrah, which means throwing even more young Germans to the meat grinder.  The lives of Paul and his friends and many others, lie in the hands of people like Erzberger and Friedrichs. 

I've seen my fair share of films set in wartime, but I can honestly say that this is the first truly anti-war film that I have seen in many years.  Not since Oliver Stone's Platoon have I seen a movie that has  more effectively highlighted the complete and utter pointlessness of war. There is no heroic sacrifice here, no redemptive character arc, nobody laying down their lives for a greater good. There is only gut-wrenching violence and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness in the face of forces beyond one's control. Curiously, as movies about war go, it's not even the most violent; films like Saving Private Ryan and Hacksaw Ridge had higher body counts and far more gratuitous depictions of gore and dismemberment.  What this movie has in spades over them both is its unrelenting bleakness.

Director Berger uses every single narrative tool at his disposal to startling effect. The very first scene, which depicts a young German soldier getting mowed down in combat, only to be stripped of his uniform, which is then stitched up and handed off to the next unsuspecting recruit, tells the audience exactly what to expect from this movie, which then proceeds to deliver on its truly grim promise.    

The craft at work here is awe-inspiring. In particular I was struck by the young Kammerer, whose transformation from fanatical youth willing to lie about his age to enlist into a thoroughly broken man who has stopped caring about anything at all is as heartbreaking as it is harrowing. Schuch, as the jaded, working-class soldier Kat is the perfect foil to Paul's exuberant aristocrat, and their camaraderie is the beating heart of the film. It's what makes the fates of these characters matter to me as the viewer, and it manages to do so in a way that isn't cloying or treacly, which brings me to the second part of the film that really stuck with me: the music. 

I was gobsmacked by the music score that, while at first blush seemingly anachronistic, is unlike anything I've ever heard in a film like this.  Instead of leaning on sentimentality by using more traditional instruments like brass or swelling strings,  Volker Bertelmann, the film's composer goes for something else altogether; an electronically-amplified harmonium, a choice as unconventional as it is unsettling.   As exemplary as the other aspects of the production are, it's this unique choice of music that really stood out to me.

Everything else about the production, from the art direction to the sound design to the color grading and the cinematography all work in striking unison to convey exactly what Berger wants to tell us. He really has brought us something extraordinary, and kudos to Daniel Bruhl and his production company for bringing us this tour de force, and also thanks to Bruhl for providing a memorable if brief appearance as real-life politician Erzberger.

As much as I like to trumpet the return of the theatergoing experience, I think this movie validates the role of streamers in keeping certain types of movies alive. This is not a movie that would get a wide theatrical release with its bleak tone, but it is a movie that definitely needs to be seen by as many people as possible.

At a time when certain people still think it's a good idea to invade another sovereign nation, this film is arguably more important than anything else showing right now.   It's obviously not suitable for children (though the novel is required reading in German schools) but if you have a Netflix subscription, please check it out. 

10/10