Was Corporal Upham a Coward? (Saving Private Ryan)

 As you can probably guess one of my favourite movies ever is 1998's Saving Private Ryan (see my article from November 2016). As one of the greatest war films ever made it touches upon a range of themes and topics for discussion, from the ideals of duty and patriotism to the realities of war's violence and moral ambiguity. One thing that jumps out at me whenever I'm with someone watching this movie for the first time is their reaction to Corporal Timothy Upham seizing up during the movie's climatic battle in the town of Ramelle and failing to intervene in a hand-to-hand fight which results in his comrade Private Stanley Mellish getting killed by a German soldier's knife. Almost invariably the new viewer criticizes Upham for not climbing those stairs and lifting a finger to rescue Mellish. In a mixture of frustration and disbelief they dismiss Upham as a coward, but personally I've always thought that this was an unfair criticism of this character. Here's why.

We first meet staff assistant Upham as he's being recruited into Captain Miller's squad to serve as their interpreter. Upon hearing that their destination has “a lot of Germans,” the corporal explains that he has no combat experience; in fact he hasn't fired even fired a weapon since his basic training, implying that he never underwent infantry training. Herein lies Upham's biggest weakness: his lack of training makes him ill-prepared for the stress of combat. People often question why boot camp drill instructors are so mean and verbally abusive towards their recruits. Some believe that they're trying to make the recruits into unthinking automatons that will obey any order given. Nothing could be further from the truth. The real reason for this is that the drill instructors are conditioning their recruits to think under pressure, preparing them for the high-stress situations they will have to work under some day. In the movie Jarhead, the Marine drill instructor chides Private Swofford: “You can't think while I'm giving you a few love taps?! How the f--- are you going to fire your rifle when grenades are going off in your face?!” This is the purpose behind live-fire exercises. The more risky and realistic the training, the better-prepared the recruit will be – technically, tactically, and mentally – to handle the danger, chaos, and sheer terror of combat. Without this psychological preparation, the average person's reaction to high-stressed situations will simply be determined by their fight-or-flight instinct.

In addition, proper training and conditioning is what prepares a soldier to kill. To the average person – especially a mid-20^th century American – the act of killing somebody is abhorrent and does not come naturally. It is something most people need to be trained into doing. This is summed up in a famous quote by Gunnery Sergeant Hartman in Full Metal Jacket: “Your rifle is only a tool. It is the hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong you will hesitate at the moment of truth; you will not kill.” Sometimes even infantry training didn't do the trick. There have been multiple post-war studies that concluded that a large percentage of US troops in the Second World War (as well as in Korea and Vietnam) did not shoot to kill; in fact, some never even fired their weapon in battle at all!

In movies it's common for there to be a “new guy” type of character, one who's uninitiated and not used to the environment he/she is now in. It's a tried-and-true method to give the audience someone to identify with, a means through which the viewer can become acquainted with the setting of the story. Timothy Upham is this type of character. Like much of the film's audience he has no combat experience and he is horrified at the events going on around him. Just like with his lack of infantry training, Upham's lack of experience makes it harder for him to handle the stress of battle. War changes you psychologically.

This is demonstrated at around Saving Private Ryan's halfway point in which Miller's squad assaults a lone German machine gun pit, capturing it and taking one prisoner at the cost of their medic, Wade. The other squad members expect to execute the prisoner, nicknamed “Steamboat Willie.” They know they can't bring prisoners with them and they want to kill the German in revenge for Wade but Upham protests, claiming that such a thing would be morally wrong and “against the rules.” It's clear that he still clings to the value of human life and decency. A heated argument ensues, ending with the squad releasing the prisoner even though it endangers their mission. Later on near the film's conclusion Steamboat Willie has rejoined his comrades and takes part in the Battle of Ramelle, delivering a fatal shot to Capt. Miller. Upham – after his breakdown and Mellish's death – captures Willie, recognizes him, and then shoots him dead. By now Upham has learned that soldiers in war must be ruthless when faced with tough decisions. He now knows what it means to be a soldier in combat. He is a changed man.

Unfortunately the change came too late to save Private Mellish because Corporal Upham couldn't work up the nerve to intervene in the knife fight. It is true that is was a failure on Upham's part, but to only focus on this one scene would be unfair when you consider all the other things he did during this battle. Throughout the battle at Ramelle Upham supplies ammunition to the machine gunners as they shift position. To do so this untrained staff clerk has to run through German machine gun fire as well as dodge tank fire while buildings are being blown up all around him. He witnesses his comrades – men braver and more experienced than him – get shot apart and literally blown to pieces. He wasn't expecting to go through any of this stuff, and yet he maintains his composure. But he can only take so much; it's only when he hears the sounds of a savage hand-to-hand fight going on upstairs that he finally cracks under the stress and is unable to go on any further.

It may be easy to curse out this character for not having the fortitude to intervene in a fight to save a life, but how many of us have been in the same situation? Corporal Upham, a man who wasn't prepared nor expecting to go through combat, just wanted to live. Is that any different from your ordinary movie-goer?

Was Timothy Upham wrong for not saving Stanley Mellish? Yes he was, but I implore you: don't be too quick to judge.

In Defence of Batman & Robin (1997)

  Joel Schumacher is rightfully reviled the world over for what his films Batman Forever (1995) and Batman & Robin (1997) did to the Batman series of films. B&R is often regarded not only as one of the worst superhero films ever made, but one of the worst films ever made – period. Batman & Robin is undeniably a very bad movie.

  But I don't mind it that much.

  Now let me explain. B&R is a very silly film, but that's part of what gives it its zany charm. In the 1990's most comic book movies were trying really hard to be gritty and “serious”. But along comes Batman & Robin, a throwback to the campy 1960's television series. How can one not appreciate Mr. Freeze's themed hideout where his Eskimo henchmen partake in sing-alongs? It's a bunch of over-the-top fun silliness, a comedy. It's a film that's pretty funny at times, though not always intentionally so. One could even argue that this film is a spoof of comic book movies, one which is perhaps more relevant now than ever with the abundance of superhero flicks Hollywood is churning out. This is definitely true with the modern DC comics movies that try way too hard to be gritty and serious. Their attempt at subversive comedic action with 2016's Suicide Squad failed when what they should've done is just rerelease Batman & Robin! Compared to the serious Dark Knight trilogy and the joyless version of the Bat we got in 2016's Batman v Superman B&R feels like a breath of fresh air. It wasn't made to tell a deep story, explore philosophical themes, or study a complex character. It was made simply to give fans a good time.

  But as we all know not all fans did have a good time with Batman & Robin. I will admit there are plenty of stupid things to be found in this flick. There's the embarrassingly dumb Bat-credit card. The police of Gotham City are wholly useless. Robin is a whiny baby who does little besides complain. The special effects are shoddy. And the bat costumes all have nipples on them except for Batgirl's, the only costume that should've had them!

  But the film has plenty of lovably silly parts too. It's amazing how many ludicrously specific gadgets the heroes have on hand at exactly the right time. It's amusing to see actors George Clooney and Alicia Silverstone sleepwalk through their roles, not giving a f--- about anything. What's even more fun is seeing Uma Thurman overact her badguy stereotype. But even Thurman is out, um, “shined” by Arnold Schwarzenegger hamming it up as much as possible with his goofy makeup and neverending stream of bad puns. (Speaking of which, it's nice that a supervillain criminal who's trying to hold the city hostage so that he can get the funds he needs to cure his wife's advanced disease can still maintain a sense of humour. There's hope for everyone, it seems.)

  It's also true that by forcing the project to be more marketable and child-friendly (i.e. just doing it to sell toys and make money) Warner Bros. killed the Batman series. But to be fair this was a series that was already in decline. Ever since 1989's Batman, each movie got more or less progressively worse. Still, nobody wanted to see the series end up like this, even if it did go for more of a spoof tone.

In short, I have to reiterate, I don't think Batman & Robin is a good movie. It's definitely a bad movie, but it's a very watchable movie. If you're in the right mood, it's downright enjoyable. It's not good, but I've seen much worse.

  As far as I'm concerned, it's not even the worst Batman film. Stay tuned...

In Defence of Star Wars Ep. I: The Phantom Menace (1999)

  Happy Saturday, folks. Today is the first of a new segment on Anachronarchy called In Defence of... This is a series of articles in which I come to the defence of movies that I think aren't quite as bad as everybody makes them out to be. For the series' inaugural airing we'll be looking at Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999).

  And before I start, let me make one thing clear: I don't think The Phantom Menace is a good movie. It has tons of things wrong with it and everybody's talked about it to death. Jar Jar is annoying and unfunny and only there to sell toys. Anakin is awkwardly written and just as awkwardly acted by Jake Lloyd. (This is the kid who grows up to become Darth Vader?) Anakin's connection to C-3PO is wholly pointless. There's too much exposition and long, boring scenes of talking. Which one of these people is supposed to be the main character? And what the hell is Samuel L. Jackson doing here?

These are all legitimate points, but in spite of them I still think Star Wars Episode I is an OK movie. While it may not be the best written or the best acted it is filled with a wonderful amount of imagination and is good for some mindless escapist entertainment.

  If nothing else, one has to acknowledge that this movie has some wonderful visual designs. The way the droid army looks and moves is impressive stuff. Whether it's the droidekas that fold up into balls to roll around or the vulture droid starfighters that can walk around on their wings, one can safely proclaim the idea of an army made up entirely of machines to be a good one. Likewise, the aliens of Star Wars look just as interesting and convincing as ever. This was when George Lucas still bothered with makeup and animatronics instead of just recklessly splurging CG effects all over the place as he did with Episodes II and III. The respectable amount of practical effects they stuck with on Episode I lends more believability to that movie's aliens and environments (that is until animatronic Yoda was replaced with crappy CG in TPM's rerelease).

  It's quite clear that The Phantom Menace was a sprawling production with tons of hard work put into it from the costumes and sets to the choreography and the excellent scoring by John Williams. By today's runaway blockbuster standards it's hard to believe that the film was made for only $115 million.

  While TPM doesn't have the best of plots, it certainly makes up for it in the action department. While not exactly having much to do with the plot directly, the pod race scene was a thrilling distraction. The final lightsaber duel with Darth Maul at the end is – in my opinion – the best in the whole series. That fight's combination of great speed, fine choreography, dramatic scoring, and ingenious pacing makes it real treat to watch over and over again. Even Jar Jar Binks, as obnoxious and despised as he is, was genuinely amusing during the battle scene in which he wreaks havok on the droids through his own sheer ineptitude.

  All these factors – combined with the compelling performances of Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor – make The Phantom Menace far from the unwatchable piece of garbage many people today proclaim it to be. As mentioned above, it has its problems but it is still a somewhat competently made film capable of entertaining.

  So why, then, do people call it trash? Could it be that since it was merely an OK movie and not a great movie that it was the victim of impossibly high expectations? Or is it that, since TPM was still two films removed from the original trilogy and by the end it didn't connect much to them, that the film just felt unnecessary once the end credits started rolling? Personally, I think the reason the Star Wars prequel trilogy is hated so much is because it focuses too much on setting up the original trilogy and not enough on telling compelling stories of its own.

  Speaking of which... tune in next week. You'll see.