Ken Burns' The War

Of all of the films of Ken Burns that I have seen, none surpasses "The War" in my estimation. This 7 part documentary on WW2 is rich, poignant and devastating. Most would call "The Civil War" his masterpiece. I can see why. That film was the first film that he did that reached a broad audience, and it brought the American public in contact with his style and sensibility. What makes "The War" the better film in my estimation is Burns' ability to take his own views out of the mix (for the most part) and let those who lived the experience tell the tale. He does that quite well in his other films through letters and film clips. But this film is special because when it was made, so many WW2 veterans were still around to tell their story. There are still many left, but so many have been silenced. Since the film is a chronological collection of anecdotes, the best way I can sum up the film's brilliance is by relating three anecdotes related to World War 2:

As 1942 drew to a close, the United States had been at war for a full year. That year, Paramount Pictures had released a film called "Holiday Inn", a musical starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. In the film, an Irving Berlin ballad of holiday yearning called "White Christmas" made its first appearance. The song became a smash hit, and it resonated strongly with American troops overseas as they spent their first lonely Christmas away from home. Ken Burns uses home video footage of Luverne, Minnesota, a recording of the song, and a current video image of a film marquee to create a genuine feeling of nostalgia. As you watch the image of the GIs overseas, hear Crosby singing, and see the holiday images both old and new, the viewer is instantly transformed to that place and time. Now, I think of that time and place whenever I hear that secular carol.

At the end of the summer of 1944, the Allied troops were sweeping through occupied France. The great city of Paris was liberated. Here, Burns uses 4 different sources to create a meaningful experience of the liberation of Paris. First, the photographs and home movies of grateful Parisians greeting their American liberators sets a great tone. Second, the strains of the French National Anthem with a jazzy, Django Reinhardt style are the score used, giving the scene both a French feel, and an American overtone, since jazz is an American invention. Third, a jubilant letter written by a young African American GI is read, in which he relates the kisses he received from the Parisian women upon the liberation of Paris. And finally, and most moving, is the account given by Air Force Captain Quentin Aanenson of Luverne, Minnesota. Aanenson is featured throughout the film, recounting the horrors of the war and the weight associated with having to run deadly bombing missions over the continent of Europe. But here, his face has a light to it not seen elsewhere. For here, he recounts flying over Paris during the liberation and seeing the crowds on the Champs Elysses and at the Eiffel Tower all celebrating the liberation. He recounts how in that moment, all of the work they had done was starting to pay off. The viewer can't help but think of the hell this man had recounted in the film of the bombing missions he had run. Here, for the first time, he is seeing the results of the long, difficult engagement.

The last anecdote comes from the Pacific Front. A young Machinist's Mate arrives at the battle of Iwo Jima to see the fireworks of the battle from his ship. He recounts the seeing of banners imploring all of the Allied Troops to "kill the J--s, kill the bastards". He recounts seeing the flames scorching the enemy troops out of their caves on the islands in the Pacific. He leaves out how he got a medal due to being injured while doing a hand stand on a battle ship, but he includes an account of doing hand springs along Market Street in San Francisco to celebrate the victory in the War.

You will not find the last anecdote in the Burns film. Instead, it was an account that my grandfather related to his grandchildren at his home some years back. We sat and listened as he made the horrors and victories of the war come alive for us. I bring it into this entry because not all Americans have what I have-a direct account of the atrocities of World War 2. Burns gives that to us in this film-the accounts that are close enough that we still have them, but feel so distant that we must listen to them to bring us back into the cold realities of war. It has now been almost one year since my grandfather's passing, but when he was laid to rest, I had a new appreciation for what he had done. As the Naval officer played "Taps" and the soldiers folded the flag and handed it to my grieving grandmother, the realities of war came crashing down upon me. This man, with so many others, had lived through a terrible ordeal. Burns makes this so human in this film by getting out of the way and letting the people who lived through it tell their story, just like Papa did.

Rock and Roll Part 2: Almost Famous

My last entry was about a movie which was a blistering satirical love note to rock music. This one is a sentimental love note to rock music. When I first saw this movie in Boston some 12 years ago, I did not realize how much I would grow to love it. In Spinal Tap, we see truth because the characters in it are so much like other people we have followed. In Almost Famous, we see truth because the characters in the movie (even though they live completely different lifestyles from most of us) are so much like ourselves.

The film follows the adventures of William Miller, a 15 year old high school student who somehow manages to become a rock critic for Rolling Stone magazine. As he embarks on his first tour with a rock band, we witness a coming of age that seems almost classical in its tone. By classical, I mean that even though an innocence is being lost, the film's tone is quite innocent and sweet, and it makes the road seem like an appealing place. The quintessential line of the movie takes place about midway through. William is getting pressure from his mother to get back home to finish high school. He tells his new friend Penny Lane (a band aid, as those who refused to be called groupies labeled themselves), "I have to get home!" She magically waves her hands in front of him and declares, "You are home!" William has to deal with what he wants to do with his life, and his love of music ends up being the road he follows.

Cameron Crowe directed this movie and based it on his own life. I am a big fan of his films (even the ones that I'm not as crazy about are still interesting). This movie is an evocative work. It uses his own life and dozens of wonderful rock songs to build a world. Even though the world does have its pitfalls, it still seems highly idealized, and that is appropriate. It shows the drugs and promiscuity, but somehow it still seems to be sanitized. That is appropriate because the movie is highly nostalgic, and it would be hard to make a nostalgic movie and have the setting be horribly sad. The down side of drugs and promiscuity is seen, but there is no death or STDs, realities that we all know come with the rock world.

There is one common thread to Crowe's films that I must bring up in closing. Crowe sees physical intimacy in a very serious light. Though the characters engage in promiscuous behavior, there is a subtext that there is more to it than that. Penny Lane feels genuinely hurt by Russell's lack of regard for her, even though she knows that he has a girlfriend and that he's on the road constantly. This same theme also pops up in "Vanilla Sky" and in "Say Anything". People in a world as "free" from the boundaries of traditional sexual roles as rock stars do feel the gravity of these actions, and Cameron Crowe sees that. I am always moved by his acknowledgement of that.

So the movie is able to at once be evocative, sentimental, funny, and deep. The glowing shot of the bus at the end of the movie emits a warmth that matches the warmth of this film. I love it.