‘Tell me that I have led a good life’: memory of war and film

Volume 3 | Issue 6 - War & Peace

Article by Katherine Cooney. Edited by Emma Carmichael. Additional Research by Ellie Veryard.

One only has to glance at any top 100 film chart to see that war makes good entertainment. Whether it is between man and orc, alien and predator or fellow human beings, war is one of the most profitable genres of film; war is the perfect subject matter for film-makers because it almost guarantees to draw in audiences. 

Moving swiftly away from wars between non-humans, war films have much relevance to historical study because they provide an insight into our popular memory, consolidating and creating the way in which events are commemorated and remembered by the majority of people. Will there come a day, for example, when school children will base their knowledge of the World Wars solely on televised and feature-length adaptations? On one level, collective memory is very useful; it preserves the past and provides each generation with an insight into the experience of previous generations. On a more fundamental level, however, film reveals much about memory in general and it is here where film offers valuable contributions to the academic study of history. 

Film exemplifies and even shapes collective memory. Although they are not known for their factual accuracy, historical films are worthy of academic study precisely because of these inaccuracies and sensationalised events. Particularly interesting are the functions of films which document events from the First or Second World War. The two World Wars did not just affect those on the front line, particularly during the Second World War, where 66 per cent of those who died were civilians. The collective memory provided and consolidated in films dealing with these wars thus took on a new role, becoming an integral part of collective healing for those generations who were directly affected by either or both wars and for those who live in its wake. 

All Quiet on the Western Front, a novel written by Erich Maria Remarque and adapted for film in the 1930s presented the sheer pointlessness of war, particularly trench warfare. Why this film remains to this day one of the most poignant anti war films is clear, there is no mention of the politics behind warfare and indeed the nationality of Paul, the protagonist, is of little consequence. All Quiet on the Western Front is true to its context, created in a wave of anti-war feeling. The resulting All Quiet on the Western Front clearly delivers this powerful portrayal of the emotional damage of war, seen through the eyes of one man but applicable to an entire world. Rather than being a heroic, patriotic fight against the enemy, the film portrays the First World War in a brutal and realistic way, highlighting a world that no longer viewed warfare in an idealised way. Indeed, scenes from the film have been mistakenly included in documentaries on the war as real footage. Unlike the 1920s, the late 1940s however, saw the number of war films that involved combat diminish with films instead focused upon the consequences of warfare, particularly in America. Combat was reserved for the plethora of westerns which emerged from Hollywood in the 1940s. On some level, film provides a popular commemoration of events and in this case anti-war sentiment had transformed into a desire to understand the effects of war while an exhausted world wished to avoid images of actual fighting.

During war itself, of course, film has one primary use: that of propaganda. This is not limited only to the world wars or even international conflicts, and, indeed, one of the most well-known films of 1920s Russia was October (1928) a film which formed part of the Bolshevik attempt to firmly frame the October Revolution as a national legend. Britain’s film industry in the Second World War, however, is difficult to surpass in terms of representation of heroic struggle. Events such as Dunkirk, the D-day landings and the Blitz provided just a fraction of the material used by film-makers to portray a ‘people’s war’. Films such as In Which we Serve (1942) and Millions Like Us (1943) were based upon guidelines issued by the Ministry of Information which encouraged producers to promote national unity but with a sense of realism. 

The study of memory and history has come into its own since the ‘memory boom’ of the 1980s. It has rendered historians of the older generation questioning whether this is truly history, surely something as infallible as memory cannot be used as evidence? Studies have focused primarily on gaining individual testimony, gained by conducting interviews with the men and women who experienced war first hand. Studies have shown that American veterans in particular believed that they were fighting for a just cause. An interview with veterans who had been fighter pilots during the Vietnam War, conducted in 2002, showed that the men added ‘drama and significance’ to their role in the war. These men had also been interviewed immediately after coming back from service in 1968 and their responses were marked by the ease in which they recalled harrowing events. One interviewee, for example, described opening fire upon the enemy because ‘they were getting a little too close for comfort’. Later interviews take on a style of storytelling and, just as film-makers do, these men told a story with a beginning, middle and end with drama and even humour added in the creation of a coherent narrative. When these soldiers were distanced from their training, from being mentally prepared to experience combat, their memories also change and events are put into a wider, logical story; a story which often includes providing justification for actions. At the risk of sounding like a television psychologist, traumatic events are often made sense of by being absorbed into mass culture. It is far easier for actions to be justified if society maintains that they are being done for a ‘greater good’. Memory clearly changes over time and personal memory becomes increasingly intertwined with, and inseparable from, wider collective memory. 

It is here where film and memory become so inherently linked. Veterans of any war often remember and share the details that are important to them and the camaraderie built between fellow soldiers is often the most emphasised element. We cannot, then, necessarily relegate war films which highlight the sense of brotherhood between the men fighting as ‘sensationalising war’. Although the facts and figures are open to artistic licence and make the blood of many historians boil, the overall message of these films are not incredibly inconsistent with the feelings of those who took part in combat themselves. It may be that veterans find it easier to make people understand by drawing upon the images and events seen in television and film. We see this time and time again in all sorts of war films, one of the most popular and successful, Saving Private Ryan. The Stephen Spielberg film deals with sacrifice of the individual for the greater good whilst showing the horrors of war. One only has to watch the opening scene to realise that this is not a romanticised portrayal of war. Twentieth century films have the benefit of distance from the event. 

Perhaps it can be argued that documenting war through film is one way a society can remember a traumatic event in a collective way, thereby making sense of it. Film-makers across the world continue to realise the potential of such material and the Hollywood trend of churning out films which take war as the central theme is unlikely to abate any time soon. It has recently announced that (yet) another remake of All Quiet on the Western Front has been commissioned, due for release in 2013 and it will be interesting to see if the remake reflects modern attitudes towards war. War films have their value, they can preserve events of historical importance and offer perspective, comfort and commemoration. Besides, let’s face it, they provide excellent entertainment. 

• When the 1930 film version of All Quiet on the Western Front was re-released in America, anti-Nazi statements were read out throughout the film, whilst in Germany the film was banned by the Nazi party, due to the perceived anti-German message. It was further banned, for several years, and in some cases decades, in Australia, France, Italy and Austria. 

October: Ten Days that Shook the World, was based upon John Reed’s book, Ten Days that Shook the World, recounting the October Revolution as witnessed by Reed during his time in Russia. The film, commissioned to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the Revolution, was directed by Sergei Eisenstein, who had also directed the highly influential Battleship Potemkin. Unlike Potemkin, October never achieved the same success: audiences branded the work inaccessible and difficult to understand. 

In Which We Serve was described by Bosley Crowther, critic of New York Times believed the film to be a brilliant depiction of the realities of war claiming; “There have been other pictures which have vividly and movingly conveyed in terms of human emotion the cruel realities of this present war. None has yet done it so sharply and so truly as In Which We Serve….”