Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Seven Pillars of Screenwriting Wisdom: From World War I Cinema

by Jason Davis

The War to End All Wars, as it was known before the sequel showed up 20 years later, ended 89 years ago this past Sunday. An armistice terminating hostilities between the Entente Powers and Germany went into effect at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. In a tragedy worthy of Sophocles, Canadian Private George Lawrence Price was shot dead by a German sniper at 10:58am. Since that day, the movies have tried to capture the inherent drama of the first modern war -- a spark quickly fanned to conflagration by treaties and alliances, a killing zone characterized by devastating new technologies, and a defining moment in which an entire generation was robbed of its innocence in the trenches of Europe.

In honor of Veteran's Day, CS Weekly looks back at the movies that immortalized the First World War and, to borrow the title of Colonel T.E. Lawrence's memoir of the time, seek some wisdom to enrich our own writing.

Spoilers await for those that haven't seen the films, so don't say we didn't warn you!

Wings (1927)
Screenplay by Hope Loring and Louis D. Lighton
Story by John Monk Saunders
Titles by Julian Johnson

The Lesson: Show the audience something it's never seen.

Stanley Kubrick understood spectacle when he directed 2001: A Space Odyssey, as did George Lucas when he made Star Wars. Show the audience something that they've never seen and they'll line up again and again to re-experience it. Indeed, World War I was all about innovation, and nowhere is this more evident than in the air. We all know of the Red Baron and ace flyer Eddie Rickenbacker because The Great War was the first one waged in the sky, with biplanes angling for the kill at altitude. Wings claimed the first Academy Award for Best Picture (though the award was split between "production" and "artistic" in those days -- Sunset claimed the latter) for its spectacular use of aerial photography to bring the Earthbound audience into the exotic heavens where childhood rivals turned brothers-in-arms Jack Powell (Charles "Buddy" Rogers) and David Armstrong (Richard Arlen) battled the enemy aloft and fought for the affections of the beautiful Sylvia Lewis (Jobyna Ralston) on the ground. Less than a decade after the war, and only 24 years after the Wright brothers first took to the air, the average moviegoer could soar through the sky and experience something that wouldn't become commonplace until half a century later with the advent of affordable air travel.

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
Novel by Erich Maria Remarque
Dialogue by Maxwell Anderson and George Abbott
Adaptation by Maxwell Anderson
Screen story by George Abbott

The Lesson: Never forget what the story is about.

Conscripted into the German Army at age 18, Erich Paul Remark witnessed the horrors of trench warfare first hand and, under the pseudonym Erich Maria Remarque , fictionalized his experiences in the classic novel All Quiet on the Western Front. Like the source material, Universal's 1930 film version is suffused with the author's loathing for war. Each scene -- whether it finds protagonist Paul Bäumer (Lewis Ayers) scrambling for sustenance in bombed-out ruins or gazing into the dead eyes of an enemy soldier he's just killed in a blood-soaked trench -- illustrates the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll of the war. Bäumer's journey from an eager schoolboy charged with aspirations of heroism to an embittered pacifist tormented by the hypocrisies of the armchair soldiers in his home town is detailed with bleak honesty. The folks at home can never understand what he's witnessed, but the audience can because we've been along on the journey with him. Claiming the 1930 Oscar for Best Picture (and a nomination for screenwriting), All Quiet on the Western Front revels in its anti-war message and never lets a frame hit the screen without acknowledging the human tragedy that inspired it.

La Grande Illusion (1937)
Screenplay by Jean Renoir and Charles Spaak (the former directed)
Story by Jean Renoir

The Lessson: Bolster a script with subtext that adds depth to the story at hand.

The first foreign film ever nominated for a Best Picture Oscar and decried by Nazi Minister for Public Enlightenment and Propaganda Joseph Goebbels as "Cinematic Public Enemy No. 1," Grand Illusion is ostensibly the tale of two French aviators shot down behind enemy lines. Though Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay) and Lieutenant Maréchal's (Jean Gabin) exploits as POWs form the spine of the story, the film is rich with undercurrents that explore the demise of the European class system. After being shot down, de Boeldieu is invited to dinner by their adversary, Captain von Rauffenstein (Erich von Stroheim), who longs for the company of a fellow aristocrat. The film trades in social commentary and points out that, because of their class, de Boeldieu and von Rauffenstein have more in common with one another than with the lower-class men of their own nation. Like All Quiet, Grand Illusion attacks the idea of war as a noble calling and questions the rules established in bygone eras and their validity in a brutal era of mechanized destruction. The film captures the moment when the gentlemanly art of soldiering gave way to mustard gas, trenchfoot, and the manifold horrors of modern war.

Sergeant York (1941)
Screenplay by Abem Finkel & Harry Chandlee and Howard Koch & John Huston
Based on the diary by Alvin C. York and edited by Tom Skeyhill

The Lesson: Contradiction is key to realistic characterization.

Black and white hats are no way to create character. Human beings contain multitudes, and contradiction is at the core of everyone's character. Sergeant Alvin C. York, the most decorated American soldier of the First World War, was no exception to this rule. Compelled by a religious awakening to be a conscientious objector when he was called up, York nevertheless found himself killing 25 German soldiers and capturing a further 132 on October 8, 1918. The action would win him the Medal of Honor and, when America entered World War II, his story became an inspiration for a new generation of American soldiers. York refused to let his story be filmed unless Gary Cooper took on the title roll, and the actor went on to capture York's reluctance and heroism with a subtlety that earned him an Academy Award. The screenwriters, including future Maltese Falconer John Huston, kept the dichotomy of York's character front and center of a script that heartily acknowledged the multi-faceted nature of what makes us human.

Paths of Glory (1957)
Screenplay by Stanley Kubrick and Calder Willingham and Jim Thompson
Based on the novel by Humphrey Cobb

The Lesson: Never take the easy way out of a hard story.

When a suicide mission to take a hill in No Man's Land goes terribly wrong, French General Mireau (George Macready) orders three men from the failed attack to be tried and executed for cowardice in the face of the enemy. As the three men await their judgment, their commanding officer, Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas), investigates the situation and learns that Mireau opened fire with artillery on his own men during the assault. As the film nears its climax, Dax tries to secure his men's lives by indicting Mireau, but the edicts of so-called military justice are executed and Dax is left to savor a pyrrhic victory when the homicidal Mireau is brought on charges after the fact. Paths of Glory defies the Hollywood tradition of the happy ending, and though we're told Mireau will be punished for his misdeeds, the fact that three innocent soldiers still pay the price for his twisted policies gives the movie its moral power to denigrate the injustices perpetrated in the tale.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Screenplay by Robert Bolt and Michael Wilson
Based on the writings of T.E. Lawrence

The Lesson: Revel in the weaknesses of your protagonist.

When the British Army assigned Lieutenant T. E. Lawrence to unite the warring Arab tribes against the Ottoman Empire, a legend was born and the makings of an Academy Award-nominated script (the film would win the Best Picture Oscar) were at hand. Opening with Lawrence's (Peter O'Toole) death and funeral before slipping back to his exploits in World War I, the film is quick to offer opposing views of its title character, with one funeral attendee who never knew the man admonishing an associate of the deceased for an unkind remark. Lawrence's meteoric rise from a humble admirer of the Arab people to a historical legend single-handedly winning the war in the Middle East is played out with equal deference to his open-mindedness as well as his arrogance. Though the former drives the story, the latter provides the most memorable material, as when Lawrence undertakes to enter an enemy village as an Arab and is detained and tortured by the Turks for his ill-conceived hubris. The nearly four-hour epic puts its hero under the microscope and never forgets the character's interior world as it depicts his exterior exploits. The Lawrence who finishes the film bears only a scant resemblance to the man with whom the viewer set off across the desert, but the viewer is privy to every scar he incurs on his journey.

Gallipoli (1981)
Screenplay by David Williamson
Story by Peter Weir (also directed)

The Lesson: A strong recurring motif can get a weighty story up on its feet.

Gallipoli chronicles the exploits of two young Australians doomed to perish in the disastrous Battle of Gallipoli on August 17, 1915. Archie Hamilton (Mark Lee) and Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson) bond over their mutual love for running in their native Australia. Encouraged by their new country's desire to make a name for itself in battle, Hamilton and Dunne enlist and find their way from the Anzac (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) training grounds in Cairo to the eponymous beachfront battle in Turkey. Along the way, the motif of running is consistently deployed to define both characters. Indeed, Hamilton's final run becomes the lynchpin of the movie's climax as he desperately tries to relay orders in the chaos of the battle.

Nearly 90 years on, it's clear that the War to End All Wars was anything but the final word on human aggression, but as America pays respect to veterans of all her wars, CS Weekly hopes we can learn something from bygone tragedies that allows the storytellers of tomorrow the opportunity to inspire their audiences toward a better future.

Jason Davis has been the DVD Manager for CS Weekly, a contributing editor for Creative Screenwriting Magazine, and has written for Cinescape.com, MSN.com, and created the TV series Studio 13, which ran on Lorne Michaels' Burly TV network. He lives in the small space left over by his ever-expanding library of books, movies, and music.

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