Paths of GloryLeaders have a responsibility to stand as examples to their charges. But when leaders fail their followers, should they not suffer the consequences? Paths of Glory is an antiwar film set during World War I, in which a failed assault on the German stronghold dubbed the "Anthill" by the 701's Régiment Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas) results in the contemptible, power-drunk General Mireau (George Macready) accusing the soldiers of cowardice. The scapegoats for this military disaster are not the officers who initiated the suicide mission; no, it comes down to three soldiers, sacrificed in the name of patriotism.
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The title for Paths of Glory--adapted from the book by the same name by Humphrey Cobb--comes from a line from a poem by Thomas Gray: "The paths of glory lead but to the grave." These "paths of glory" are the trenches which Mireau and Dax walk through. There is no glory in such a pointless death, either what awaits the army charges the Anthill or later as the three soldiers must bear the brunt of the scorn of the French military. We see these paths in the signature style of director Stanley Kubrick, via wide-angle tracking shots. Unlike Mireau, when Dax walks the trenches, we also see what he sees: men afraid for their lives, everyday men forced to fight a political "world war" they are not invested in, but expected to die for all the same under the auspices of "heroism", "patriotism", and other credos espoused by insulated stuffed shirts. These paths are sardonically mirrored when the inevitable walk to the the firing squad comes at the conclusion, a path which offers no glory. Officers like Mireau--or his manipulative superior, General Georges Broulard (Adolphe Menjou)--are no better than bureaucratic politicians, prepared to look at the worst in men, and find it regardless of the facts. As a result, they view their soldiers as dispensable, making the suicidal prospect of taking Anthill plausible in their minds, nothing but a numbers game. To reinforce their choice in the minds of their uniformed pawns, Mireau walks through the trenches, his pedantic lickspittle, Major Saint-Auban (Richard Anderson) close behind, as Mireau repeatedly asks soldiers through his banal pep talk if they're ready to "kill more Germans". Mireau comes across like an impotent corporate drone, spewing rhetoric to manipulate outcomes for his advantage. If this sounds cynical, it is in keeping with the tone of Paths of Glory, where the faceless German enemy is less loathsome than the very officers who should support their soldiers.
When the assault fails--Mireau blames the failure on a company which did not advance out of the trenches--he proclaims venomously that if "those sweethearts won't face German bullets, they'll face French ones". It is a psychotic announcement, born of selfish fury, the real hatred coming not from the significance of the assault, but because Mireau's pride had been slighted. So contemptuous is he for the men he considers beneath him that he is prepared to slaughter a hundred of them; a convening between him, Dax, and Broulard brings the number down to three, albeit three men who will be killed for no legitimate reason. We know this just as Dax and his men know this; the officers even know it, but refuse to allow the inconvenience to halt their "example", desperate to save face in light of their strategic buffoonery. A microcosm of the failures of leadership comes prior to the assault, when three men reconnoiter the "no-man's land" leading to the Anthill, where the inebriated Lieutenant Roget (Wayne Morris) is responsible for the death of his soldier by grenade, and runs from the field. The surviving soldier, Corporal Paris (Ralph Meeker), calls him out on it, and is thus singled by Roget to be one of the scapegoats. This episode illustrates how leadership invariably leads to a sense of superiority in the worst of leaders, who diminish the worth of others to flee as cowards from responsibility themselves. The court martial is a farce, a show meant to give the appearance of procedure, but one in which Dax is outnumbered by his own so-called peers. His defense of the three soldiers is a parallel of the charge on the Anthill, an insurmountable, uphill battle, doomed by the erroneous judgment of those who should be truly accountable, not just expendable grunts. The judge refuses to even bother to read the full indictment out of expedience, and Mireau reclines lackadaisical on a cushy sofa. This was the same man who repeatedly ordered his artillery to fire on his own men, convinced that their failure to advance was out of cowardice, the same man who rallied the cry of patriotism to Dax at their meeting where he pitches the deadly mission, one assured to kill more than half of his men. One has to wonder how Mireau got that gruesome looking scar on his cheek, so adverse to heroism as his behavior suggests...perhaps he really did cut himself shaving.
Made in 1957, Paths of Glory would hardly be the kind of film one would consider were they looking to bolster support for a war, given the emphasis on the futility and disenfranchisement of the actual soldiers expected to die face down in the mud, or even staring down the barrels of a firing squad. Events following the inevitable verdict by the council to execute the men include a heated fight between Paris and fellow victim, Private Pierre Arnaud (Joe Turkel), which leaves the decorated Arnaud with a fractured skull, although the firing squad will still prop him up to receive his "justice", if he lives through the night. These deeply black, sardonic moments would almost be funny if they weren't so tragic. And the seemingly incongruous song at the denouement, performed by Christiane Kubrick, is practically the antithesis of the famous singing of the French national anthem in Casablanca. Here, it is performed by a German captive, at first cajoled by the French soldiers, whose moving song is one not of patriotism, but a sad ballad ("The Faithful Hussar") of a young man separated from his beloved. The soldiers do not understand the words, but hum the melody, and the message is universal. It emphasizes the human needs triumphing over the arbitrary ones of abstract nations. The film's message against tyrants and despots is loud and clear, as it was banned in Spain by the fascist government, a response in keeping with the portrayal of corrupt leaders in the movie. Paths of Glory was not a popular film--the story goes that it was star Kirk Douglas' influence which led to its realization on the merits of its important message--but it is an exceptional film, gorgeously restored today and as relevant now as ever; it also has the distinction of being based on true events. Were one not paying attention, one might surmise that Paths of Glory is critical of France; however this is a fallacy. As Dax observes in the court martial, it is not the failure to take the Anthill that is a "stain on France", but the notion that men would be sacrificed--heroic men, in fact--for the satisfaction of the egos of those who didn't even participate in the charge themselves. Dax recalls a quote from Samuel Johnson: "Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel". Set one hundred years ago, one cannot help but be filled with an ironic sadness to see how little has changed in terms of the rampant zeal and vitriolic rage which dominates the media and those who turn their proverbial rifles against their countrymen out of pride. It could be said that the sign of a true patriot is one who can criticize his own nation, because it comes from the desire to wish to see that nation set a better example.
Recommended for: Fans of a biting commentary on war and the disconnect between those in power and those they misuse in their ambition. It is sharp and true, and it endures because of its honesty and candor...a fact that remains observable even today.
When the assault fails--Mireau blames the failure on a company which did not advance out of the trenches--he proclaims venomously that if "those sweethearts won't face German bullets, they'll face French ones". It is a psychotic announcement, born of selfish fury, the real hatred coming not from the significance of the assault, but because Mireau's pride had been slighted. So contemptuous is he for the men he considers beneath him that he is prepared to slaughter a hundred of them; a convening between him, Dax, and Broulard brings the number down to three, albeit three men who will be killed for no legitimate reason. We know this just as Dax and his men know this; the officers even know it, but refuse to allow the inconvenience to halt their "example", desperate to save face in light of their strategic buffoonery. A microcosm of the failures of leadership comes prior to the assault, when three men reconnoiter the "no-man's land" leading to the Anthill, where the inebriated Lieutenant Roget (Wayne Morris) is responsible for the death of his soldier by grenade, and runs from the field. The surviving soldier, Corporal Paris (Ralph Meeker), calls him out on it, and is thus singled by Roget to be one of the scapegoats. This episode illustrates how leadership invariably leads to a sense of superiority in the worst of leaders, who diminish the worth of others to flee as cowards from responsibility themselves. The court martial is a farce, a show meant to give the appearance of procedure, but one in which Dax is outnumbered by his own so-called peers. His defense of the three soldiers is a parallel of the charge on the Anthill, an insurmountable, uphill battle, doomed by the erroneous judgment of those who should be truly accountable, not just expendable grunts. The judge refuses to even bother to read the full indictment out of expedience, and Mireau reclines lackadaisical on a cushy sofa. This was the same man who repeatedly ordered his artillery to fire on his own men, convinced that their failure to advance was out of cowardice, the same man who rallied the cry of patriotism to Dax at their meeting where he pitches the deadly mission, one assured to kill more than half of his men. One has to wonder how Mireau got that gruesome looking scar on his cheek, so adverse to heroism as his behavior suggests...perhaps he really did cut himself shaving.
Made in 1957, Paths of Glory would hardly be the kind of film one would consider were they looking to bolster support for a war, given the emphasis on the futility and disenfranchisement of the actual soldiers expected to die face down in the mud, or even staring down the barrels of a firing squad. Events following the inevitable verdict by the council to execute the men include a heated fight between Paris and fellow victim, Private Pierre Arnaud (Joe Turkel), which leaves the decorated Arnaud with a fractured skull, although the firing squad will still prop him up to receive his "justice", if he lives through the night. These deeply black, sardonic moments would almost be funny if they weren't so tragic. And the seemingly incongruous song at the denouement, performed by Christiane Kubrick, is practically the antithesis of the famous singing of the French national anthem in Casablanca. Here, it is performed by a German captive, at first cajoled by the French soldiers, whose moving song is one not of patriotism, but a sad ballad ("The Faithful Hussar") of a young man separated from his beloved. The soldiers do not understand the words, but hum the melody, and the message is universal. It emphasizes the human needs triumphing over the arbitrary ones of abstract nations. The film's message against tyrants and despots is loud and clear, as it was banned in Spain by the fascist government, a response in keeping with the portrayal of corrupt leaders in the movie. Paths of Glory was not a popular film--the story goes that it was star Kirk Douglas' influence which led to its realization on the merits of its important message--but it is an exceptional film, gorgeously restored today and as relevant now as ever; it also has the distinction of being based on true events. Were one not paying attention, one might surmise that Paths of Glory is critical of France; however this is a fallacy. As Dax observes in the court martial, it is not the failure to take the Anthill that is a "stain on France", but the notion that men would be sacrificed--heroic men, in fact--for the satisfaction of the egos of those who didn't even participate in the charge themselves. Dax recalls a quote from Samuel Johnson: "Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel". Set one hundred years ago, one cannot help but be filled with an ironic sadness to see how little has changed in terms of the rampant zeal and vitriolic rage which dominates the media and those who turn their proverbial rifles against their countrymen out of pride. It could be said that the sign of a true patriot is one who can criticize his own nation, because it comes from the desire to wish to see that nation set a better example.
Recommended for: Fans of a biting commentary on war and the disconnect between those in power and those they misuse in their ambition. It is sharp and true, and it endures because of its honesty and candor...a fact that remains observable even today.