Naked Under Metal :: A Beer-Gut Reaction to David Ayers' Fury (2014)

As an amateur history buff, one of the most depressing and infuriating reads I've ever encountered was Death Traps (1998) by Belton Cooper, which was a first-hand auto-biographical take on the massive short-comings of the M4 Sherman when stacked up against the superior German panzers during World War II, where the only advantage the American tank had was speed and mass-production, with the disadvantages being little to no armor and not-near-effective-enough firepower, as fired shells impotently bounced off opponents, while the German 88mm guns usually made short-order of there American counterparts, making them, indeed, death-traps, with an appalling casualty rate.

Seems as America entered it's third year of the war, a critical, and some would argue criminal, decision was made to forgo retooling for the production of the newly minted M26 Pershing tank and stick with the Sherman. This decision was backed by General Patton, the leading authority on tank warfare, who favored the lighter and more mobile Sherman, feeling tanks were not supposed to fight tanks but bypass them and attack the enemy from the rear. Eisenhower agreed and, judging by the evidence provided by Cooper, who had served in the 3rd Armored Division under Patton, this decision was a disaster that "lengthened the war and became a literal death sentence for thousands of tank-crew members."

All of this came to the forefront when I finally sat down and watched David Ayer's Fury (2014), which focuses on one such tank crew who, after surviving North Africa, D-Day, and the Bulge, miraculously intact, suffer their first casualty. Of course the replacement is both green and shunned, which rings somewhat true as, by this time, whatever warm bodies that could be mustered were assigned as replacements -- though the misplaced file clerk (Lerman) going through a trial by blood and fire, here, where subtlety and nuance are ground up under the tank treads, rings a little too close to the been there, done that, misplaced translator from Saving Private Ryan (1998). But in his defense, from the deified commander (Pitt), a bible-thumper (LeBeouf), a token minority (Peña), and the hick (Bernthal), the rest of the cast is an even bigger cache of cliches. However, the acting of all involved is really quite good and do the best they can to elevate what they're given, cancelling out some of these concerns.

Where the film positively excels is when Ayers brings out the constant anxiety of the crews and the fear and the effectiveness of these tankers each time they go into battle. The combat scenes are incredibly staged, brutal and harrowing. The sequence where a dreaded King Tiger tank wipes out a whole column, and the ensuing game of cat and mouse that follows, epitomizes everything Cooper was lamenting about. And in the quieter moments, I haven't seen a film de-romanticize service and un-glamourize combat this much since Carl Foreman's equally depressing, The Victors (1963). And though I did appreciate what Ayers was shooting for, something a little deeper, he kinda played out his "war is hell" cards with too heavy a hand.

And strangest of all, as we head into SPOILER TERRITORY, everything he and his veteran characters were preaching against, and the philosophy of caution that kept them alive thus far, is summarily ignored for a climax that is fairly ridiculous in its last stand John Wayne-ishness as the lone tank and her crew suicidally defends a crossroads against an over-whelming battalion of SS troops. Again, it's executed quite brilliantly, but ends just like you know it will. And here, Ayers blew a golden opportunity to add a poignant coda to his film, adding a bittersweet punch to the stomach on the sacrifice of the Fury's crew, which brings us full-circle back to Cooper's book.

See, Cooper served in a unit that was in charge of recovering damaged and knocked-out tanks and making them serviceable again; another direly grim advantage the Americans had over the Germans, leaving no doubt that Fury, the tank, would've been patched up, hosed out, repainted, refitted, and back on the line with a brand new crew in less than two days after the climactic battle.

Despite all of the gripes and missed opportunities, I'm happy to say the good outweighs the bad and I enjoyed this movie a whole lot. It was just frustrating, and a little counter-intuitive, and that keeps Fury from being as great as it could and should've been.

Fury (2014) QED International :: LStar Capital :: Le Grisbi Productions :: Crave Films :: Huayi Brothers Media :: Columbia Pictures / EP: Anton Lessine, Alex Ott, Brad Pitt, Sasha Shapiro, Ben Waisbren / P: David Ayer, Bill Block, Jeremy Johns, John Lesher, Ethan Smith / AP: Owen Thornton / D: David Ayer / W: David Ayer / C: Roman Vasyanov / E: Jay Cassidy, Dody Dorn / M: Steven Price / S: Brad Pitt, Shia LaBeouf, Logan Lerman, Michael Peña, Jon Bernthal

Favorites :: Character Spotlight :: When Nerves of Steele Fatigue and Finally Snap in William Wellman's The Story of G.I. Joe (1945)

There's a moment in George Clooney's The Monuments Men (2014), a World War II tale of a special squad efforting to preserve and rescue what's left of Europe's art treasures from the plundering Nazis, where Bill Murray and Bob Balaban's characters are stuck in the Ardennes at Christmas time. And as the Battle of the Bulge rumbles all around them, Murray receives a recording from home, alas, with no way to listen to it. His friend comes through, though, playing the record over the PA system for the whole encampment to hear. I admit, I teared up a bit during this scene, as Murray's daughter's Christmas Carol echoed through the woods and the ears of those so far away from home, but, I know I was also crying a bit for the stirred up memories of Sgt. Warnicki from William Wellman's The Story of G.I. Joe (1945), too, who also received a similar record, which holds the voice of his infant son whom he's never heard speak.

On the surface, The Story of G.I. Joe is an autobiographical look at famed war correspondent, Ernie Pyle. But just like with his books and essays, the film is not about Pyle, per see, but about Pyle serving as a witness to those men fighting the good fight -- not the where and the why, necessarily, but the frustrations and the 'hurry up and waiting' punctuated by sudden and terrible outbursts of violence and terror of the who. Here, the reporter follows one particular outfit from their disastrous baptism of fire at the Kasserine Pass in North Africa to the invasion of Italy that is loosely based on his Pulitzer Prize winning piece on the death of Captain Waskow and the impact it had on his men. 

Burgess Meridith is just great as the lyrical Pyle, who tries to personalize and put a face on the 'gravel agitators' in his columns for those back home; as is Robert Mitchum as the rapidly promoted Captain Walker. But the film is stolen out from under them both by Freddie Steele's Sgt. Warnicki and his quest for a working phonograph, whose comical build up leaves the viewer a bit unprepared for the truly brutal and heart-rending climax of this plot thread at the foot of Monte Cassino, where he finally gets it working, hears his son's greeting, and the months of accumulated fatigue and grueling combat finally pushes one man over the edge. 

The resulting dust-up as his comrades try to contain him from taking the hill by himself proves just as harrowing, with Warnicki beaten into the mud, a reverse-engineered take on civilization as he devolves back into the ooze that sprung us all. Kudos to Steele for pulling off the detonation of this emotional time-bomb so effectively, which is even more amazing when you consider he wasn't even an actor.

Born Frederick Earle Burgett, at the age of 14, Steele took up boxing as a profession and, after a decade of bouts, 'The Tacoma Thumper' was recognized as the middle-weight champion of the world from 1936-1938, compiling a record of 125-5, knocking out almost half of his opponents in the process. Steele's fighting career came to a premature end due to a series of auto accidents and other accumulated injuries and health issues. However, his celebrity status in the ring found him mixing in several Hollywood circles as well -- most notably, John Wayne's.

Known for his hard-hitting and fast footwork, Steele broke into showbiz when his feet doubled for Errol Flynn's in the fight scenes for Raoul Walsh's Gentlemen Jim (1942). Several bit parts followed, including a few for Preston Sturges, who gave him his first credited role in Hail the Conquering Hero (1944). He was absolutely hilarious in that, but Steele seemingly got his big break with Wellman's World War II epic as the hickish, tobacco-spitting, and tough of as nails, Warnicki. He bore the facade of a simpleton, with unsuspected depth, character and courage. Mitchum's Walker might've been the brains of the outfit, but Warnicki was the glue. And it should be noted that it was his mental collapse that rallies the outfit long enough to achieve the victory that had been eluding them for weeks.

It's amazing stuff that might've been fumbled in some other hands -- and it almost was. Remember, Wellman was a pilot who served in the Air-Corps during World War I and he hated the infantry, and therefore, refused all overtures from producer Lester Cowan flat until he spent some time with Pyle and learned how much the G.I.s truly revered him. (Pyle was so influential he campaigned for and succeeded in getting Congress to authorize extra combat pay for those serving in the front lines.) The only other non-combatant similarly adored was cartoonist Bill Mauldin, another Pulitzer winner, whose Willy and Joe strips were quite popular for their honesty, irreverence, and the resulting ire drawn from the brass for the same (-- scenes and scenarios which were pilfered mercilessly for this film). And to add even more authenticity, the army allowed United Artists the use of many veterans from North Africa, Sicily, and the Italian campaigns as extras as they were transferred to the Pacific theater of operations. Sadly, most of these men were later killed in action on Okinawa, including Pyle, who was killed not long after the film wrapped. His last words were asking another soldier if he was okay before a bullet struck him down.

Along with his books and columns, The Story of G.I. Joe makes for a fine memorial for Pyle. It also served as Mitchum's big breakthrough movie, landing him his only Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor. He lost to James Dunn for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I've seen them both. Loved them both. But, Mitchum was robbed. And frankly, Steele was better than both of them that year anyway.

Alas, unlike Mitchum, this breakout performance did little to advance Steele's acting career. His piercing eyes and chiseled features were offset by a flattened nose that resulted in a nasally, almost cartoonish rasp of a voice that would've never allowed him leading man status; but the potential for a rock-solid character actor was there, evidenced by a couple of memorable performances in albeit minor roles. I especially liked him as the failed voice of reason for Raymond Burr's gang of hoods in Desperate (1947) and as part of a remarkable one-two punch combo as the muscle for bad guy Peter Lorre in The Black Angel (1946). His last film was Lewis Selier's steamy film noir, Whiplash (1948). After which, he gave up on acting and moved back home to Washington, where he opened a saloon in Westport with his wife, Helen, which they ran together until he suffered a debilitating stroke in 1980. Steele passed away four years later.

Perhaps it was just the right role molded for just the right person, but Sgt. Warnicki is one of my favorite characters from my second favorite war film -- the favorite being Wellman's Battleground; a truly great film in the same vein, who also saw one of its character actors robbed of an Oscar statuette. (All apologies to Dean Jaeger, but James Whitmore was ah-mazing as Sgt. Kinnie.) No matter what picture or genre, Wellman always had a thing for camaraderie, making this genre almost tailor made for his sensibilities. Like Pyle, he was less interested about why they were fighting but who was doing the fighting and the dynamics of who you were fighting with. Rousing, inspiring, heart-wrenching, and perhaps most important of all, credible, which guys like Freddie Steele brought to the table in spades. And I can't recommend his performance and this film enough.

Other Points of Interest:

Newspaper ads for The Story of G.I. Joe at the Morgue. 

The Story of G.I. Joe (1945) Lester Cowan Productions :: United Artists / P: Lester Cowan / AP: David Hall / D: William A. Wellman / W: Leopold Atlas, Guy Endore, Philip Stevenson, Ben Bengal, Ernie Pyle (novels) / C: Russell Metty / E: Albrecht Joseph / M: Louis Applebaum, Ann Ronell / S: Burgess Meredith, Robert Mitchum, Freddie Steele, Wally Cassell, Jimmy Lloyd

Hey! You Got Your Blackhawk Down in My Independence Day! :: A Beer-Gut Reaction to Battle: Los Angeles (2011)

I'll be honest. I only wanted two things out of Battle: Los Angeles. One, that it took place in L.A. (-- not a deal-breaker, but, eh), and second, that there be, you know, a battle. Seems like a no-brainer of a request, but we've all been to the movies before, right? Right. Well, I'm happy to report that Battle: Los Angeles delivers on both those demands. It's also chock-full of (or, if your so inclined, choking) on an innumerable amount of clichés be it character -- from the weary, ready to hang up his boots Sergeant who once more proves his salt, to the green Lieutenant who first fails under fire but later redeems himself, to a Private with an axe to grind with his superiors -- or familiar situations as disaster mounts, lives are lost, and the alien invaders invariably sturm and drang their way to total victory, with mankind's only hope resting on the shoulders of Colonel Deus, Major Ex and Captain Machina. But I'm here to tell you, I didn't care one damn bit about all of that and enjoyed the hell out of every Alien-Ass-Kicking-Marine minute of this movie.

Now to be fair, despite the Ex's Deus, there really was a Battle for L.A. A battle battle, and not just some one-sided token attack overwhelmed by the hostile E.T.'s advanced technology. Well, there was, and then things kind of escalate from there. So what we got is a running firefight that lasts for about 3/4ths of the movie. Seriously, I haven't seen an alien invasion flick that gave the Terrestrials this kind of a fighting chance since Tobe Hooper's much maligned remake of Invaders from Mars. And, damn, but if I didn't find that refreshing. And just like in that movie, the Marines have no qualms about killing Martians here, either -- tough though that may be but they and their machines can be brought down. And it's not some kind of miraculous or Divinely compatible computer virus or daring fighter pilots that brings those invading assholes down but the grunts on the ground, paying for each foot of shattered real estate with blood, sweat and steel and a well placed artillery barrage.


Yeah, about as subtle as an old Edward Dmytryk or John Wayne Buy War Bond's propaganda programmer, in the end, Battle: Los Angeles is exactly what its title would imply and doesn't try to be anything else, and how you react to that will probably depend on what you bring into it. Hawkish, Patriotic, clichéd, stoopid, or a shameless two-hour commercial for the Marine Corps -- or Dramamine for those not immune to the old combat shaky-cam (... I really don't even notice that thing anymore, but I'll assure you all at no point did I not know what was going on on screen), whatever you prefer. Me? I'll take it at face value. A kick-ass popcorn thriller that I'd like to see again on the big screen. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I found myself applauding our heroes' valiant efforts not once, or twice, but three times -- the last with an accompanying whoop of "Hell yeah!"


Battle: Los Angeles (2011) Original Film-Columbia / D: Jonathan Liebesman / W: Chris Bertolini / C: Lukas Ettlin / E: Christian Wagner / P: Jeffrey Chernov, Samuel Dickerman, David Greenblatt, Ori Marmur, Neal H. Moritz, Lisa Rodgers / S: Aaron Eckhart, Michelle Rodriguez, Cory Hardrict, Adetokumboh M'Cormack, Bridget Moynahan

Movie Poster Spotlight :: Foreign Jobs :: Kelly's Heroes (1970)

Kelly's Heroes. As a comedy, it's a pretty good war movie. And as a war movie, it's a pretty good comedy. Either way, it's my most favorite bank heist movie of all time!

Japanese One Sheet:

Spanish One Sheet:

Italian One Sheet:

Italian Photobustas:

Polish One Sheet:

Belgian Half Sheet:

Other points of interest:
The original print ads for Kelly's Heroes.