I looked back to movies whose impact have stayed with me, back to a time when filmmaking did not have the technical wizardry or luxury of CGI to create the images we so often see today. These following films are, of course, literally only a handful.
For me, these five films (in no particular order) show resilience to stand the test of time. The screenwriting and the actors’ delivery of the rich text (and subtext) bring together the joy of language and image melded into a memorable couple of hours in front of the flickering screen.
Patton (1970)
Patton feels less of a war film and more of a character study of General George S. Patton Jr. It is George C. Scott’s bravura performance that is the driving force of this nearly three-hour-long movie from Francis Ford Coppola’s screenplay and Franklin J. Schaffner’ direction.
A war lover, Patton fought as hard behind the scenes of military bureaucracy to get command as he did on the battlefield to defeat the Nazis.
George C. Scott was a Hollywood outsider and it’s hard to think of anyone else who could have imbued the legendary Patton with the forceful on-screen presence needed to convey the contradictory, eccentric commander who excelled in battle and who was lost without conflict. Much like the actor himself who sought out challenging roles – two strong independent men. One needing the taste of battle the other the challenge to portray an outsider like himself.
The film is a glorification of war. It embraces the pure warrior spirit and reveals a man intent on crushing his enemy at any cost, and that was Patton’s downfall. He revered courage and loathed cowardice and when he slapped a shell-shocked soldier it ended Patton’s career. In times of war larger than life characters like Patton are the figureheads whose rhetoric and personal courage drive armies to victory. Once the conflict is won, there is no place for them to go.
Man for All Seasons (1966)
One man’s conscience pitted against a tyrant’s desire to go against Church and faith.
In 16th century England King Henry VIII wanted an annulment for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon because of his desire to bed and wed Anne Boleyn. She played her hand perfectly. No sex until she was Queen. Ambition personified. It drove Henry mad with desire and drove a wedge between Church and state. Paul Scofield played Thomas More who was Lord Chancellor to Henry VIII.
It’s a slow burn film, finely crafted from a wonderful script. It’s dialogue rich, some say heavy, but given that it was taken from Robert Bolt’s stage play the transfer from stage to screen is a masterclass in acting and shows how a great director (Fred Zimmerman) can take a step back and let the material work its wonder. The wonderful cast, the cream of Britain’s talent at the time, hold an audience as the verbal duels cut and thrust.
Henry VIII is a formidable enemy with honed political skills. For every verbal thrust and challenge from a sharp-witted and intelligent king, Thomas More uses linguistic skill to parry and defend himself. Thomas More’s intellect can save him, but his vanity and faith cannot. Ultimately there is a choice – lose his integrity or his head.
The Lion in Winter (1968)
A family squabble at Christmas with far-reaching political overtones. A dynasty at each other’s throats. King Henry II – a vibrant, mesmerising Peter O’Toole, invites his estranged wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katherine Hepburn), to spend Christmas in a bleak castle.
Ambitious offspring, mewling like spoiled brats, fearful of being left out the line of succession make their appearance as the cat and dog fight dialogue between husband-and-wife bites and scratches inflicting wounds and remorse in equal measure. The passion between Hepburn and O’Toole’s film characters, both equally matched, is tremendous. The sparring, cajoling, promises made and bargains wrought for the future of a kingdom thrust the film along at pace.
The literate script, often a rare find in Hollywood films, is written by James Goldman, taken from his stage play, and is handled with intelligence and sheer gutsy fervour by all concerned. It has a genuine look at how life was back then. Rough-hewn and all the better for it.
Becket (1964)
In 12th century England, boyhood friends, Thomas à Becket and Henry, King of England, carouse and drink and wench their way through their early years. Becket covers for his friend’s lies with barely concealed discomfort. Peter O’Toole played Henry 11 (again) and Richard Burton, Thomas à Becket. When the debauched king makes his firm friend, Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, he thinks he has the church where he wants it. Under his control. Or so he thought. Becket finds his true calling and becomes the troublesome priest. Church and state are in conflict. The chemistry between Burton and O’Toole gives us two compelling actors at loggerheads exposing the weakness of and perceived strengths of both institutions.
The Leopard (1963)
Who would have thought casting Burt Lancaster as the Sicilian Don Fabrizio, Prince of Salina was a rare stroke of good fortune for a European production that needed Hollywood money? It was. Lancaster defied the critics.
Directed by Luchino Visconti it is based on the book of the same name by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa who based it on his own grandfather. A time of change befalls the prince, and age is taking its toll. Revolution has jumped from mainland Italy to the island and the threatened land reforms that will come with it makes Don Fabrizio keen to arrange a marriage of convenience for his nephew, a young hothead played by Alain Delon.
On their summer retreat to the countryside, the family meets the gauche, newly rich mayor of the town who has a beautiful daughter, played by Claudia Cardinale. Don Fabrizio’s remorse of debasing his family’s heritage is genuinely observed. Visconti chooses subtlety over lengthy dialogue and the nuances expressing emotions are deftly handled.
The original film had forty minutes hacked from it by the studio, but in 1980 it was restored by the cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno and is now 185 minutes. This lavish film is exquisitely acted and directed, sumptuously filmed, and vividly portrays a bygone era.
* * * * *
Award-winning author David Gilman enjoyed many careers—including firefighter, paratrooper, and
photographer—before turning to writing full time. He is an award-winning author and screenwriter.
His latest military historical fiction, SHADOW OF THE HAWK, publishes from Head of Zeus on April 1, 2021
