The Front Line is a Korean film set in the dying months of the Korean War and is a film that has taken a lot of obvious influence from Western war films, particularly the World War II films of Hollywood. It has a knowledge of the genre tropes and the typical characters that populate a film such as this. It goes big, bombastic and with a clear obvious message at it's heart.
My knowledge of the actual war itself is incredibly sketchy, something I should really rectify. But any sense of history isn't really required, as the film takes place during the protracted negotiations to end the war; negotiations that have dragged on for years. South Korean CIC Officer Kang Eun-pyo is dispatched to a post on the front line - a sad, dirty camp that has fought with the North Korean army over a single shitty hill for far too long. One day the South Koreans have the hill. The next, the North. The day after it's back with the South. This has gone one for months. At the camp Eun-pyo (who, from what I could gather, is some sort of MP) finds his friend Kim Soo-hyeok, who he thought was MIA years ago. Soo-hyeok has been aged by the war into a hardened, bad-ass officer making his way up the ranks by attrition.
Eun-pyo doesn't really do much in the way of investigating reports of a camp mole, but instead serves as the outsider whose eyes we see these beaten soldiers through. They're a close-knit group but allow Eun-pyo and the fresh-faced new recruit he brought with him into their fellowship. Less welcome is the new CO; he's from the school of ignorant, pompous braggart of Movie Officer Training School.
The bulk of the film is taken up with various excursions to and from the hill, battles that win it and battles that lose it. Also hiding in the surrounding countryside is a North Korean sniper nicknamed "Two Seconds" by the poor bastards that come under fire. But within all this brutal warfare there are moments of shared humanity - a hidey-hole where soldiers from both sides swap notes, booze and cigarettes. It becomes an exhausting watch, getting a little bogged down in the constant fighting and sense of tension but makes up with a couple of unseen turns (or, at least, unseen for the time they happen at).
The final third is where The Front Line really, painfully hits its mark: after yet another painful assault peace is finally declared. But, due entirely to a stupid bureaucratic fuck-up, the higher-ups on both sides decide there's still 12 hours left to fight of this devastating war. It's a kick to the guts for the characters and the audience. And director Hun Jang really uses the time to hammer his point home: what, exactly are they all fighting for? None of the poor grunts slugging it out on the front lines know. Who the war doesn't kill it utterly destroys.
This is very much a Korean tale to be told and I'm glad it was told by Koreans and for Koreans. Despite the obvious influence of their filmmaking style, the American (and UN) forces barely make any sort of appearance.
I initially had absolutely no intention of seeing Steven Spielberg's adaptation of the World War I set novel & play, War Horse. Almost nothing about it appealed to me; in fact the only things that did were the WWI setting and the Beard himself. However, after reading a number of positive reviews and reactions online, I decided to give the film a chance. This was Spielberg after all, and World War I is a war far less cinematically enshrined than it's sequel, WWII.
Unfortunately, after the two-and-a-half hours of runtime my reaction to the film was very under-whelmed "Meh".
Which is not to say there aren't moments of sheer beauty, horror and genius. Moments that use the full array of camera, editing, performance and music tools at Spielberg's disposal to brilliantly moving effect.
But those moments, as fantastic as they are, could not get me to connect with this film. Essentially World War I through the eyes of a horse, I found myself unable to connect emotionally. Spielberg does his utmost to invest the horse, Joey, with a surfeit of personality even going so far as anthropomorphising him at times. But, as great as these efforts were, I couldn't connect to the horse and, by extension, the story.
I certainly couldn't connect to Joey like lead human character Albert Narracott (newcomer Jeremy Irvine) does. The love this young man has for this horse is... well, intense. He's there at his birth and, when his father (Peter Mullan) drunkenly outbids their landlord (David Thewlis having oodles of scheming bastard fun) for Joey young Albert is overjoyed. However, to keep the farm afloat Albert's pa ends up having to sell Joey to a young officer in the Army. The young Army officer, a kind eyed Tom Hiddleston, is the picture of upper class English politeness. The Great War was a new kind of warfare; old rules of engagement were becoming obsolete as new, more advanced weaponry, made a mockery of them. When the English charge a German machine-gun nest it is a massacre, Spielberg masterfully cutting around the bloodshed with shots of riders in a field and riderless horses leaping over machine-guns.
Young Joey then ends up in German hands being looked after by two young brothers. From there he's taken in by a young French girl and her grandfather before being re-drafted by the German army. In this way he criss-crosses the borders of the war, his story giving all-too brief glimpses into different lives and experiences of the War.
And that's what they are - glimpses. Spielberg knows how to get a lot out of them, but I was still left with no central character I felt connected to. Not all of the images are immediately striking - or at least, not in a good way. Spielberg's usual cinematographer Janusz Kaminski saturates the film, laying the soaked in syrup tones a bit much at times.
And one of the things I found myself most annoyed, perturbed and a little confounded by was the continuing cinematic trend of having foreigners speak to one another in perfect English; something that is especially noticeable when there are English characters in the film as well. It is a cinematic tendency I understand - the folk are talking to one another in their own language but the audience are "hearing" it as English - but I think it's long past time we moved on from it. It really is a piece of arch theatricality that only served to take me out of the film and, frankly, I would have expected different from Spielberg.
I can see what was being aimed for with War Horse and, for a number of people, it definitely worked. I just wasn't one of those people. I never felt nakedly manipulated by Spielberg; it simply never connected with me and thus there was no emotion to pull on.
