Amargo Triunfo

The fine playing of Curt Jurgens and Richard Burton raises Bitter Victory quite a few notches. Actors less capable than them and a director less capable than Nicholas Ray would have made a muck of this film which borders on incoherency at times in terms of the point it was trying to make.

I'm just finished watching it and I still don't know what it was all about. Jurgens who is a South African the better to explain his German accent while leading British troops in the desert war in Italy has been a staff officer for years and has no combat experience. But his knowledge of the German language is considered valuable on this mission. He's married to Ruth Roman who has joined the British WAAFs to help in the cause. And she's on duty at headquarters.

Which doesn't help matters as the other officer in consideration for commanding a commando raid on Rommel's headquarters is Richard Burton. He's an archaeologist, speaks Arabic and, oh yes, he's Roman's former boyfriend. And he's got the requisite combat experience.

But Jurgens is a major and Burton is a captain so Jurgens is in command. Burton is sure he's a coward when he hesitates shooting. And since he'd like to get back with Roman he'll do anything to discredit Jurgens.

What a recipe for a disaster and the mission nearly turns into one. One of them doesn't make it out of the Libyan desert.

Sad, but Ray, Burton, and Jurgens were all capable of better work and did it. I'd view this only if I were a fan of any combination or all of the above cinema icons.

A heavy-handed thing to say, but that's what Jean-Luc Godard proclaimed upon seeing this film at the Cannes Film Festival. The French knew it long before we did: Nicholas Ray was one of the most original and wisest directors to ever make films. He took a French anti-war book and he made it into a film that was so much more than that. Unlike his previous routine assignment to confirm his allegiance to Howard Hughes during the Red Scare FLYING LEATHERNECKS, there are more layers that stretch far beyond the sea of sand that cast Richard Burton and Curt Jurgens away from society. Unlike most war films of its time and like almost every film Ray ever made, the conflict lies not in the battles between the nations, but inside the hearts of the film's protagonists.

The brooding Richard Burton is given a great role as disillusioned soldier Captain James Leith, forced to carry out an assignment with Major Brand, a man he dislikes (the feeling is mutual--Leith had an affair with Brand's wife Jane a few years back, and the desire still lingers on, showing Leith's last trace of humanity). Their assignment is to travel behind enemy lines and take some German documents. The long journey through the desert becomes even more heated as Leith reminds Brand of his cowardice (Brand hesitated to kill a German soldier during an attack) and Brand tries in subtle ways to kill Leith to cover up his cowardice. But this isn't a black and white good-guy/bad-guy caricature; there are so many shades of gray in both characters. As Leith later says, the two are almost mirror images (although he is much wiser than Brand and accepts his futility, Leith is not as strong as some might make him to be; he admits to leaving Jane because he was scared to get close to someone else--like all of Ray's anti-heroes, the ones who reject love are the ones who need it the most), possibly explaining why Brand feels compelled to kill Leith.

BITTER VICTORY wasn't the first anti-war film, but it was one of the few to make its statement so eloquently (and it had the most profound title). Too subtle to connect with American audiences (the film flopped badly at the box-office and when the studio re-cut it several times, each time farther and farther away from Nicholas Ray's original vision, it didn't work) but revered by French audiences, BITTER VICTORY has grown more potent in the decades since its release. The futility of war isn't proclaimed by the horrible violence of battle like countless films, but through the impossible absurdity of a man's role in the war. After all, if Leith "kills the living and saves the dead," what difference does it make, other than that little matter of when and what for? By the end, how is Brand any different from the training dummies with hearts painted over them? The enlightenment that Brand finds by the film's end comes too late; he's already lost what's precious to him and all he has to show for it is a DSO. It truly is a bitter victory.

Well directed and atmospherically photographed, this is no mere action film but more a study of the human condition, viewed through a particular prism, distilled in the crucible of conflict.

Slightly odd casting choices here but the quality of the performances is high and the overall result is pretty good. This isn't a film to watch if you just want to see another war flick, this is more a film to watch if you want to see how a character study is made.

I think it adds that this film is in black and white; it is after all the only thing about the film that is, er, black and white. However there is a whole generation of would-be film-goers who simply won't watch films like this one because 'they are old-fashioned' and being in monochrome is seen as part of that. It is their loss, of course, but one wonders how the film would have stacked up had it been made in colour instead.

On paper, one of the chief protagonists ought to have been delighted at the final outcome, but of course this isn't necessarily the case. There are no real heroes here, only the living and the dead, both flawed, and the dead don't get to tell their story.

This isn't a truly great film but it is a pretty good one; definitely worth a watch. Seven out of ten from me.

Before entering the cinema theater I read a review of the film made by Godard in Cahiers du Cinéma. He defined this movie 'more than cinema' and a pure reflection of life. The miserable and coward behaviour of the character (played superbly by Curd Júrgens), a bewildered Richard Burton when futilely carries over his shoulder a dying soldier through the desert until he realizes his death: 'I kill the living and save the dead! or the moment when Ruth Roman looks for "Jimmy" among the survivors of the expedition, and many more... are all beautiful pieces of life, probably bigger than life... How easy is killing!? I also wanted to emphasize the brilliant expressionist photography used in the film. Especially in the nocturnal sequences.

As it were...The 2 films (this one and Flying Leathernecks) have more in common than one would like to believe, given the fact that F.L. is often thought of as not a "real" Ray film. But the rivalry between 2 military men who dance around the same rank (one being generally subservient - not by choice - to the other) is in both cases treated as as much a psychological issue as an issue of military discipline. The difference is that in F.L. the psychological aspect is soft-pedaled (except for a couple of key scenes). I have to admit that there are a couple of ways that I prefer F.L. Obviously, Bitter Victory is a much finer and more fully realized film. But it feels failed to me in some important ways: it seems to aspire to the status of independent artwork (the score, the long scenes of trudging through the desert), and as such it is not totally successful. It doesn't break free of its genre moorings the way Fuller or Sirk or Ophuls (etc.) can and often do. F.L. doesn't pretend to be more than it is: it stays solidly within genre conventions, easy resolution and all. Its lack of aspiration makes it easier to watch, to some degree. There are unforgettable moments in Bitter Victory: the scorpion, the camel bladder, the raid, the dance, the fight in the street (pure Ray). But the whole doesn't convince me, the issues don't move me. Ray often seems poised between Kazanian script and actor - driven film-making on one hand and more personal crazy auteurist cinema on the other. I haven't had that revelation that caused Godard to say "the cinema is Nicholas Ray". I'll keep trying.