The film embraces a strangely hybrid tone that reflects both the exhaustion and cynicism of the early seventies and the lingering fascination with the Second World War as a cinematic canvas. What immediately stands out is how the movie distances itself from the solemnity and gravity that characterized many war films of the fifties and sixties, opting instead for a more irreverent register, almost a parody at times, though still anchored in the iconography of combat and military missions. This tonal balancing act is both its greatest asset and its most glaring weakness. On one hand, the lightness and almost farcical energy create a refreshing break from the traditional battlefield narrative, yet on the other, the uneven shifts in register make the audience oscillate between suspense and farce in ways that are not always intentional. At several points, what seems conceived as a parody of the war genre ends up collapsing into a parody of itself, losing sight of its own targets and exposing instead the disarray of its construction.
From a technical standpoint, the film is surprisingly ambitious, though the execution often betrays a lack of cohesion. The camera work favors mobility, with wide frames capturing the landscapes and ruins that stand in for the war-torn European setting. While the cinematography is never lush in the manner of larger Anglo-American productions, it maintains a certain grittiness that mirrors the sardonic mood of the script. The editing leans toward briskness, pushing the narrative forward with a rhythm that at times resembles caper films more than traditional war cinema. That kinship with the caper genre is reinforced by the score, which oscillates between martial undertones and playful, almost comic motifs, further emphasizing the dissonance between war as subject matter and war as backdrop for ironic adventure. Yet the impression remains that the technicians behind these aspects-photography, music, editing, even direction of scenes-were often working in isolation, each pursuing a different register, sometimes even clashing with one another. It almost feels as though roles were shuffled at random, as if the departments exchanged tasks without a guiding hand, which might explain why moments of tension are suddenly undercut by frivolous cues, or why staging that aims at satire is wrapped in visuals that suggest drama.
The performances are pitched broadly, often leaning into caricature, and this is where the film betrays its satirical core. The cast seems fully aware of the absurdity of their mission and of the situations they are placed in, playing into exaggerations that recall the approach seen in Kelly's Heroes (1970). Both films share a similar impulse to demystify the war hero, transforming soldiers into opportunists, eccentrics, or reluctant participants. Yet, unlike Kelly's Heroes, where the eccentricity of the characters is woven into a fairly consistent tonal framework, this film sometimes indulges in slapstick that undercuts its more biting moments. That being said, there are flashes of sharp comic timing, especially in the way the dialogue undercuts military rhetoric, revealing not only the absurdity of command structures but also the futility of glory in a war already so heavily mythologized.
The historical context of 1973 is crucial to understanding this approach. In Italy, the post-'68 years were marked by political turmoil, disillusionment with authority, and a growing skepticism toward nationalist narratives. War films of the forties and fifties, which often leaned on propaganda or celebratory tones, felt increasingly outdated in such a climate. This film belongs to the wave of revisionist works that reframed the Second World War not as a noble struggle but as a backdrop for absurdity, chaos, and personal survival. The movie speaks to a generation that no longer saw value in heroic sacrifice, but rather in exposing the contradictions of military endeavors. This is not merely entertainment but a cultural product of its moment: the war, filtered through the comedic and ironic sensibility of the seventies, becomes a stage for dismantling myths rather than consolidating them.
Visually, the production design deserves mention. Though evidently limited in budget compared to Hollywood contemporaries, it achieves a convincing mise-en-scène by focusing on functional rather than spectacular realism. The sets evoke a sense of desolation appropriate to the war, yet they are often juxtaposed with comedic staging that transforms rubble and ruins into playgrounds of folly. Costuming too reflects this dual approach: uniforms and military gear are accurate enough to suggest authenticity, but they are often worn in disheveled or incongruous ways, heightening the satirical angle. Still, even here one feels the absence of a unifying vision-details that should have reinforced a coherent mood instead drift into contradiction, as though designed by hands that were following different interpretations of what the film was supposed to be.
In terms of tonal lineage, the film can also be fruitfully compared with La grande vadrouille (La grande vadrouille, 1966), though it lacks the latter's tight comedic craftsmanship and broader emotional resonance. Where the French film leveraged the comedic potential of ordinary civilians caught in extraordinary circumstances, this movie focuses on soldiers themselves, mocking the very institutions they serve. The humor is more cynical, less tender, and more fragmented, reflecting both its national production context and the shifting sensibilities of the seventies.
If there is a persistent limitation, it lies in the inability to fully harmonize its satire with the gravity of its setting. While the intent to strip the war of its heroic varnish is clear, the oscillation between parody and seriousness occasionally leaves the audience unsure whether to laugh or recoil. Combined with the technical disarray-the impression that technicians were working at cross purposes-the film ends up sabotaging itself. The result is an uneven work that fascinates in its intentions and context but falters in its craft, offering moments of ingenuity interspersed with others that feel as though the production had lost its own compass.
