With a tale so deeply rooted in the past, there are moments in ‘68s The Charge of the Light Brigade that feel stale. But it’s in the telling that Richardson sets his film apart, even falling back on humor occasionally to recreate what is an otherwise very somber historical event.
The film opens in the days before the outbreak of the Crimean War (when Russia invaded Turkey, threatening to cut off Great Britain from its interests in India). Capt. Louis Nolan (David Hemmings) of the British Cavalry has just returned to England from abroad, and is reunited with his close friend, fellow officer Capt. William Morris (Mark Burns). He even attends Morris’ wedding to the lovely Clarissa (Vanessa Redgrave). Over the coming weeks, the three are inseparable, and as a result of their time together, Clarissa develops a crush on her new husband’s friend, amorous feelings that are returned by Nolan.
But Nolan is having issues of his own with their commanding officer, Lord Cardigan (Trevor Howard), the haughty, old-school Cavalry man who distrusts Nolan and does what he can to make the Captain’s life miserable.
Nolan appeals to Lord Raglan (John Gielgud), head of the Army, to intervene on his behalf, but Raglan has his hands full when news breaks that Russia has invaded Turkey. England is at war!
With Lord Lucan (Harry Andrews), Lord Cardigan’s brother-in-law as well as his sworn enemy, appointed General of the Cavalry, and Cardigan himself heading up the Light Brigade, the troops set sail for the Crimea, where they hope to recapture the strategically important city of Sevastopol.
Lord Raglan and his aides put together a plan of action, but it becomes obvious to Nolan, Morris, and many of the younger troops that their battle-hardened superiors are out of touch with modern warfare, and are leading them to disaster.
Much of what transpires in the opening hour or so of The Charge of the Light Brigade is interesting but cliché. The love triangle involving Nolan, Morris, and Clarissa is nothing new, and isn’t given the time to really come alive. It feels crowbarred in, and, ultimately, unnecessary.
Also standard to many movies of this ilk are the showdowns between Nolan and Lord Cardigan (played to perfection by Trevor Howard), clearly designed by Lord Cardigan to knock the smart and experienced Nolan down a peg or two (the “Black Bottle” affair with Lord Cardigan is something that really happened, though Nolan, himself an actual historical figure, was not the solider involved).
That said, the second half of The Charge of the Light Brigade comes alive in a big, big way!
Along with the battle scenes, which are exciting, Richardson inserts a number of animated sequences into the mix. They are in the style of old-time patriotic cartoons, designed to praise the British military and demean its enemies. We get a taste of said animation right off the bat, during the opening credits, and it starts the movie off in entertaining fashion. Yes, these cartoons are jingoistic and over-the-top, but you get the feeling they are there to make us laugh as much as move the story forward (the frequency of these animated sequences increases once the war is in full swing).
Richardson and screenwriters Charles Wood and John Osborne also set their sights on the inept commanders of the British army. Gielgud plays Lord Raglan as a kindly but senile officer whose decisions rarely make sense. The night before the big battle, Raglan ignores information supplied by a Russian defector, who warned of a surprise attack the next day. Raglan's reasons for doing so? Because this “spy” is a traitor with no honor! On top of this, Lord Cardigan and Lord Lucan allow their family squabble to interfere with their military relationship, bickering even when the enemy is approaching.
It all comes to a head in the film's final scene, after the battle is already lost, as the elderly Commanders sit on their horses, passing the blame for this disaster to each other. The images Richardson intersperses as the Generals argue and point fingers might make you laugh, but they more than likely will bring a tear to your eye.
An historic battle told in a very ‘60s style, The Charge of the Light Brigade, especially in the last hour, kind of blew me away.
Rating: 8.5 out of 10
But Lennon’s role was not big enough to warrant his being so high up in the credits. Only the film’s star, Michael Crawford, is listed higher. Crawford plays the overly-enthusiastic, unbelievably naïve Lt. Goodbody, commanding officer of a ragtag troop sent on suicide missions first to the deserts of North Africa, then the heart of Germany.
Lennon, as a soldier named Gripweed, has his moments, but personally I would have put him at maybe 5th or 6th on the cast list, certainly behind Roy Kinnear, whose Clapper is perpetually worried that his wife back home is being romanced by butchers and insurance salesmen. Lee Montague as Sgt. Transom, the unit's lone skilled soldier, also has a bigger role than Lennon. He is forever trying to clean up Goodbody’s mistakes, and seriously considers, on several occasions, shooting his commanding officer himself.
As far as the comedy goes, Jack MacGowran’s insane Juniper, who first acts like a vaudeville entertainer (even attempting ventriloquism just before a key battle), then transforms into a gung-ho, war-loving General, gets the most laughs.
The story is simple enough: Goodbody, fresh out of officer’s training, where he failed to impress his mentor, General Grapple (Michael Hordern), is assigned to command what might be the most inept platoon of the Second World War. Try as he might to gain their respect with pep talks and promises of glory, Goodbody only manages to alienate his men.
Things go from bad to worse when they find themselves wandering the deserts of North Africa, searching for a battle they cannot find. Even the discovery of a Nazi oasis, with all the water they can drink, ends badly (after capturing the oasis via one of the film’s funniest scenes, Goodbody orders his men to build a Cricket field, then forces them to play for hours under the burning sun).
But I’m getting ahead of myself here, because most of what transpires in How I Won the War is told in flashback. As the movie opens, Goodbody is separated from his men and captured by the Germans. He is interrogated by Nazi officer Oldebog (Karl Michael Volger), who has orders from High Command to destroy what is the last bridge over the Rhine, thus cutting Berlin off from the invading Allied forces.
Goodbody develops a friendship with Oldebog, finding in him a fellow soldier with whom he can finally communicate. So, Goodbody gives his name, rank, and serial number, then proceeds to regale Oldebog with his platoon’s exploits since they entered the war!
Like he did three years earlier with A Hard Day’s Night, director Richard Lester brings style to spare to How I Won the War. Characters break the fourth wall, talking directly to the audience; and stock footage of actual battle scenes are incorporated into the film’s staged skirmishes, often jarringly so (the battles themselves seldom match the selected stock footage, though I believe that was a deliberate choice made by Lester). There are times when the characters even let it slip that they know it’s all just a movie!
Billed as a war / comedy, How I Won the War is also an effective fantasy, with settings that seldom make sense for a WWII movie (the oasis is especially strange), and characters who talk openly of their disdain for their commanding officer, and flee from battle the moment shots rings out. This was all designed, of course, by Lester and company, a grand statement of sorts on war and the effect (or lack of effect) it has on the common soldier.
But scenes are strung together in a confusing manner. With so many jumps back and forth in the timeline, we often ask ourselves “Where are we now?”. Even more jarring is that, whenever one character is shot dead, they are replaced by a “Toy Soldier”, decked out entirely in green or red and with a stocking over their face. There were times when How I Won the War frustrated me, and my attention waned as a result.
Yet there are also very effective scenes throughout, especially in the final act. Lester incorporates more intense, more realistic battle sequences into the film’s goofier skirmishes. One character, killed by a stray bullet from a dropped rifle, is also shown as dying with honor during the battle of Alamein, a correlation, no doubt, between the absurdity and the heroics of warfare. The man is just as dead in both scenarios. In one, he is a brave soldier, shot in the head, his body lying against the treads of a German tank. In the other, he is a victim of hilariously bad luck. Which is reality, and which is fantasy? We don’t know, and I’m not sure we’re supposed to know.
In the last half hour of How I Won the War, Lester finally hits his stride, blending the surreal with the all-too-real while driving home his points about war, commanding officers, and enemy combatants. The confusion I felt early on gave way to a genuine admiration for the film, and I laughed a little when, during the grand finale, the title How I Won the War proved more than one soldier’s boastful bravado.
With nods to movies such as Lawrence of Arabia (the theme from which plays as the troops stumble around the North African desert) and Bridge on the River Kwai (a key moment from that movie is parodied to perfection during the oasis raid), How I Won the War both reaches for and lovingly mocks grand, sprawling war epics, all the while keeping its tongue firmly planted in its cheek.
As for Lennon, he does, as I said, have his moments in the movie, and proved himself an able actor even when not strumming a guitar.
But don’t let the ads fool you; there’s a lot more to How I Won the War than John Lennon!
Rating: 6.5 out of 10
