Another go at Erich Maria Remarque’s 1929 novel about fighting on the German front line in World War I, director Edward Berger’s All Quiet on the Western Front has the explicit immediacy of Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan and the bureaucratic, bird’s-eye-view of Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory. We should never become accustomed to the horrors of war, so for all its familiarity (morally and formally), the movie still feels necessary. An ensemble piece, All Quiet eventually coalesces around Paul Baumer (Felix Kammerer), a German university student who excitedly enlists but soon finds himself in hell. The harrowing moments rarely cease. Chief among them is an extended scene in which a French soldier whom Paul has repeatedly stabbed refuses to give up his last breath. Frantic and bloodthirsty, Paul tries to shove mud down his victim’s throat; when that doesn’t work, he clumsily tries to comfort and revive the man. It’s a miniature drama within a larger epic that unblinkingly captures the madness of war. As Paul, Kammerer impressively drains his eyes of light as the movie goes on, yet the best performance might come from Albrecht Schuch as Kat, a soulful shoemaker who is part of Paul’s squad. He has a wordless scene as Paul reads Kat a letter from his wife that captures something more devastating than the physical loss of life. Another notable aspect of this adaptation: Volker Bertelmann’s score, which punctuates the action with buzzsaw chords and snapping snares, evoking a psyche that’s been assaulted and torn asunder.
(1/31/2023)
