Director: Lewis Milestone
Whether it is because of the overcrowded year in which it was released or John Ford’s more acclaimed treatment of a Steinbeck novel the following year (The Grapes of Wrath), Of Mice and Men has been strangely neglected in the decades since its release. But seen today, director Lewis Milestone’s adaptation is not only a harrowing treatment of the classic novel, but an exciting piece of cinema in its own right. The picture begins with George (Burgess Meredith) and Lennie (Lon Chaney Jr.) on the run even before the credits roll, which was a pretty radical stylistic innovation for its time and one that articulates the history that the men have shared together. Moreover, a narrow escape is a fitting prologue for one of Hollywood’s great achievements in representing dread on screen. Although much of the material involves George and Lennie discussing their future, one can sense the impending tragedy due to the dark, melancholic tone that Milestone achieves. The scene in which Candy’s (Roman Bohnen) old dog is to be put down is presented as an excruciating wait for the inevitable–a microcosm for the film itself. Besides the two great leading performances, Charles Bickford is terrific as Slim. He’s the most adept force of good in the picture, but even he must back down when confronted with the harsh realities of the world.
Filed under: Reviews | Tags: 1930, all quiet on the western front, lewis milestone
Director: Lewis Milestone
As poignant as any war film ever made, All Quiet on the Western Front is an unrelenting portrait of young German soldiers during World War I. Released in April of 1930, the picture arrived at a time in which Hollywood was at the very beginning of one of its most exciting periods, but nonetheless the logistics of talking pictures were still being perfected. Lewis Milestone’s achievement, then, is all the more spectacular considering its context – it was a picture with all of the spectacle of its greatest predecessor in the genre, The Big Parade, with a dynamic soundtrack, elaborate tracking shots, and an uncompromising, perhaps controversial, social message. While it is hardly subtle, one cannot degrade a picture with these intentions as being excessive – aside from suggesting the realism of war, it is as steadfast as any battle picture in its anti-war sentiment. The soldiers discuss the idiocy of fighting for one’s country, and in a key, heart-wrenching moment, a German soldier mourns his fallen enemy. In one of the earliest scenes, the camera pulls back from a military procession into a classroom, where young school boys are lectured about the glory of being a soldier. This is one of the many moments in which Milestone frames the soldiers in windows and doorways, as if echoing their trenches, or even their coffins. Furthermore, as much as directors like Rouben Mamoulian were experimenting with the limits of sound in their early talkies, very few soundtracks of this era were as full and vivid as the one found here. The never-ending blasts of explosions and gunfire persist throughout the picture, not only evoking a sense of place but quite literally taunting the suffering men on the battlefield.