Saving Private Ryan

reviewed Tue, 01 Sep 1998 14:00:24 EDT

I'm a little amazed that I'm about to give Saving Private Ryan kind of a bad review. I went into the theater expecting to be blown away; I expected something deeply moving on the order of Gallipoli. And it is a good movie, in the context of a summer season that includes Dead Man on Campus and Buffalo '66. But it certainly isn't the best film of the year, as every other critic has been saying, and I doubt, depending on what comes out this fall, that it will even make it onto my 10 best of the year list. (Full disclosure: I've always thought Spielberg is overrated, and I don't much care for war movies unless they're extremely well done.)

Sure, the opening and closing battle scenes are intensely powerful and horrifyingly realistic -- in fact, this was one of the things that bothered me. It's one thing to say that you want people to see what war was really like; it's another to keep shoving it in their faces. I know that war is horrible -- I don't really need to see numerous close-up shots of intestines flowing out or bloody leg stumps. There is a reason I'm not a doctor.

And in between the battles, most of the movie is, I'm sad to say, dull. There are some good scenes here and there, but mostly it just kind of dragged along. Spielberg for some reason decided that very little of this 3-hour-long movie would be devoted to character development -- you never get more than a thumbnail sketch of any character, which makes it difficult to want to tag along with them and to care about them when they're dead. I've read an article suggesting that this is a male-bonding movie, so maybe I'm lacking enough testosterone to judge this film fairly.

Actingwise, all are capable, but none stand out. I've always thought Tom Hanks is pretty overrated, too, though I like him -- and I thought he was wrong for this part. He is just not believable as a captain. Of course, it was hard to gauge anyone's performance -- there was always so much background noise, it was nearly impossible to hear the dialogue. If it wasn't deafening war noise, it was overbearing, sappy music.

Finally, I have to bitch about the modern-day scenes that bookend the movie, where an old man visits the graves of his friends in Normandy. This device is completely unnecessary, overweeningly annoying, and cloyingly sentimental -- which brings me to my main complaint about Spielberg, which is that he oozes sentiment indiscriminately. I won't deny that I teared up at the end, but I felt manipulated into it by music cues and corny speeches. There was genuine sentiment to be felt here, but Spielberg crushed it with manufactured schmaltz (see my complaint about the music).

I'm probably coming down too hard on Ryan, but that's because I truly expected it to be a great film. But it didn't move me, it didn't touch me deeply, it didn't linger with me after I walked out of the theater. If you're not expecting that kind of experience, you'll probably like it just fine. As for me, I'll be waiting for The Thin Red Line.

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