1917: From Dream to Greatness

War conflicts in cinema have been portrayed in a wide variety of ways over the years. Some stories have been more moving than others, endowed with greater quality. We can find films of this type with adventurous tones; some are purely documentaries, others depict genuine romances, and several have been created in which comedy serves as the main attraction. Militarism has undergone a remarkable evolution in terms of the message it seeks to convey. Today, while some productions attempt to denounce the crimes committed in war and the urgent need to end all existing conflicts, others aim to highlight the supposed heroism of victorious powers and discredit their enemies—and even some allies.

Although framed within this last category, the genre surprised us early last year with the latest release from renowned director Sam Mendes: 1917. A highly risky project, to the point of seeming almost impossible to execute. However, it contains an essential element: the identification the viewer feels with the image they are seeing. A true feat, achieved through cinematic and technical virtuosity.

The film, based on stories told by Mendes’ grandfather (as the director himself revealed), is set in the fields of France during World War I. It tells the journey of two young British soldiers tasked with delivering a message that would prevent the certain death of several comrades. If one focuses only on the plot, it may seem like a simple tale of heroes on a race-against-time mission—an interpretation that would be totally unfair. The film takes on the nature of an odyssey, moving away from the drama of its characters’ lives and fully immersing itself in recounting a marathon epic.

The visual quality of the film is impressive. The director insists on filming it entirely in one continuous shot. This choice serves to create such dynamism that it provokes total immersion from the viewer, turning them into a third protagonist. As mentioned earlier, it lacks the drama and character connection found in other great genre titles like Saving Private Ryan (1998, Steven Spielberg) or Platoon (1986, Oliver Stone). Those films include subplots that reflect the lives of their protagonists and the reasons behind their circumstances. 1917 does not aim to be a sentimental film, despite representing the filmmaker’s childhood dreams. From the outset, it fuses with technology to create a spectacle of special effects, while simultaneously putting the audience to the test through its camerawork.

This time, cinematography takes on the most important role. It captures extremely difficult shots without which this “feat” would not have been achieved. The soundtrack also stands out, successfully placing the viewer in every scene and context—sometimes even more effectively than dialogue, which disappears entirely at certain moments.

At times combining the boldness of Christopher Nolan in Dunkirk (2017) with the freshness of Alejandro González Iñárritu in Birdman (2014), Mendes transforms 1917 into a war symphony filled with suspense and a certain degree of theatrical complexity. This difficulty centers on the work of its two protagonists, who hold different views on how to approach their mission. We see how a sense of family complements a sense of duty and survival instinct.

Perhaps the abilities of several cast members like Benedict Cumberbatch or Colin Firth could have been better utilized. They take on nearly cameo roles, and it would have been interesting to see them more actively involved in the plot—to fully enjoy their performances. That said, I reiterate this wasn’t the director’s intention, who chose to focus on telling the story directly.

Although it avoids classic dramatism, 1917 is still a disturbing and catastrophic film. Mendes offers a different version of war, showing its most impersonal side. This concept could also be applied to his broader filmography. If we recall titles like American Beauty (1999) or Revolutionary Road (2008), we see that he always based his stories on exploring the most vulnerable and human aspects of his characters. However, here he innovates and surprises us—and the result is more than convincing. The audience dives into the film, becomes part of the story, and is once again immersed in everything that represents the magic of cinema.

—This text was originally written by Carlos Javier Valle Díaz and is published with his express permission.—