Film Review: Flat Top, 1952

Reading John Grehan's Battle of Midway got me very interested in USN aircraft carriers. I tried to find a WWII movie on the subject, and discovered Flat Top. Made in 1952, and starring Sterling Hayden, an actor I really dig, whilst in truth not a classic film, it is pretty much exactly what I wanted.

Sterling Hayden, a man's man in a man's world!

Great footage of USN carrier operations.

What I was looking for was a film that would show aspects of the operational and tactical life of such a vessel, and her crew. And Flat Top, whilst a bit thin and, pardon the pun, flat as a drama or character study - the drama is okay, but the characters are rather 2-D and clichéd - clearly takes pleasure in showing the multifarious aspects of life and operations aboard a WWII USN aircraft carrier.

The entire film is one long flashback, as Hayden's Cmdr. Dan Collier character recalls his WWII service aboard the same carrier in which we find him, which starts with his being given command of a new batch of raw recruit pilots. The well-worn cliché of the by-the-book hardass who ultimately comes to be loved by his men is then played out over a series of scenarios. 

Heavy use is made of real WWII stock combat footage, both of fleet activity and even more so aerial combat. The contrast of the gung-ho mirth of the pilots with the anonymous Japs being so easily and merrily dispatched is a bit disconcerting. Indeed, the enemy remains an abstracted nonentity until quite late in the film, when we start to occasionally see the human cost to both sides.

Several sequences, such as this one ...

... show how the arrestor wires work.

I suppose this was a propagandist movie, made  as it was during the Korean War, the opening scene showing jets landing on the carrier. In that respect it is a bit cornball. But what I like about the film is seeing operational stuff, like the maintenance and fuelling/arming of planes, above and below decks. Take offs and landings (the latter showing arrestor wires in use), with 'ground crew' at work, and the inter-deck elevators in action.

There's quite a lot of footage like this...

showing deck crew servicing planes...

... loading various armaments, etc.

We also see how the officers and men live, the former in their own private but box-like quarters, the latter in dorms full of bunks. There are meals in the mess, pilot briefings (in surprisingly large/luxurious looking chairs!), and red-lit acclimatisation for night combat/flying.

Below deck crew follow the action in an ops room type setting.

One of the more timeworn themes is that old chestnut of individual vs. group. This is less grating than the wafer-thin characterisations of the protagonists - a election of Everyman types, from jocks to poets, musicians to lawyers, etc. - and is, in this film as in life, difficult to square/resolve. Hayden's character does so in no uncertain terms. His immediate subordinate has a softer approach (albeit eventually conceding he's 100% wrong!). The overt message here is 'it's the team that wins'. But a certain amount of rugged individualism does sneak in.

So, not a great film, by any means, frankly. But certainly well worth watching if you're fascinated by the maritime and airborne aspects of the war in the Pacific.

One of the few glimpses we get of the Japanese enemy.

Book Review: Dark Valley, Piers Brendon

NB This is one of my archival posts, re a book I read aeons ago!

There are a number of detailed reviews of this book online already, so I won't go into any real detail regarding the contents, as it'd be fairly redundant. I simply want to add my voice to the chorus of approval. Like William Shirer's justly celebrated Rise And Fall Of The Third Reich this is sweeping, compelling history that really draws you in. The kind of thing that'll threaten to end your fiction reading. Why read fiction when real world events are so massively interesting?

These three would be scary enough individually. But together?*

The 1930s were, of course, the crucible of WWII, with extreme nationalist governments taking over ever larger swathes of the world: Italy, Spain and Japan were joined in this decade by Germany, and all these major powers can be added to the giants of Russia and, to a lesser extent, China. There was the fallout of worldwide recession, and all around the world, but most surprisingly perhaps, in the 'developed' West, liberalism and democracy were in crisis.

As others have noted elsewhere, Brendon has an excellent writing style, and is truly masterful at weaving together complex narrative and small anecdotal details. What a period the first half of the C20th was, with all this and more sandwiched between the cataclysms of two world wars! I borrowed this from a friend many years ago, and liked it so much I had to get my own copy after reading his (in a repeat of what had already happened with the aforementioned Shirer book).

The material relating to Japan is, I find, particularly fascinating, as so much historical literature on this period and the two world wars is so Euro-centric. Also the militarism of Japan differed markedly from that of Russia, Germany and Italy, in that it was much more broad based, rather than being focussed on a singular charismatic figurehead. Indeed, the Japanese Emperor seems to have been carried along on a martial current that flowed through a whole class (the officer class), ultimately more or less saturating the whole culture.

This '30s photo captures the whiff of 'horror film' around the development of Magnitogorsk. 

One specific episode amongst the many in this brilliant book that really struck me - haunted me even, for a little while after reading it - was the horror of Magnitogorsk (just the name sounds balefully ominous!), in Stalinist Russia, which was declared a closed city, i.e. off limits to foreigners, in 1937. I won't say why. Buy this superb book and read about it yourself.

* And of course there was Franco in Spain, the militants behind a Emperor Hirohito in Japan, and many lesser tin-pot tyrants in areas like the Balkans.

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I found an interesting article about Magnitogorsk here.

Film Review: The Admiral, 2011

It's interesting to see a modern Japanese take on aspects of their history in WWII. Western renderings of this theatre of war range from the film's made during the war itself, usually propagandistic, via postwar epics like Midway, to more recent films, such as the HBO miniseries Pacific, the much criticised Pearl Harbour, or Clint Eastwood's attempt at a balanced view (Flags of our Father's and Letters From Iwo Jima), of varied quality and historical veracity/evenhandedness.

The real Yamamoto.

This depiction of Admiral Yamamoto casts him, and the leadership of the Japanese navy as a whole, as the doves amongst the otherwise mostly hawkish Japanese military. Western audiences might find this surprising, in the light of Pearl Harbour, famously described by Roosevelt as a 'day that will live in infamy'. But those who've read on the subject will know that there is indeed some truth in this. I can't recall from my own readings whether or not it's true, as depicted here, that the Japanese navy had been tricked into believing a declaration of war had been made prior to the attack.

I did enjoy this film, but it did seem rather hagiographic, casting Yamamoto as an ever-smiling and sagacious leader, a reluctant warrior, borne aloft on the waves of jingoistic militarism that sped Japan towards its ultimately cataclysmic fate. Still, it's fascinating to see the Japanese telling their own story. An impressive production overall, as well. But there were some less than brilliant CGI moments, a pet-hate of mine.

Not brilliant, but interesting, and worth seeing.

Book Review: Nanjing, 1937, Peter Harmsen

"rice even tastes better after you have killed someone" (Ch. 7, Decisive Days)

The banner quote for this review comes from a passage in the book in which a Japanese soldier, once a child who wouldn't hurt a fly, discovers in the war with China that 'It turns out that I can kill others just like that, without even giving it any thought'. The quote comes in the context of an execution of eight Chinese soldiers who have surrendered, but it perhaps also helps illuminate the mentality that lay behind the infamously brutal 'rape of Nanking'.*

Japanese forces on parade.

In 'Nanjing, 1937' Peter Harmsen follows up his excellent 'Shanghai 1937, Stalingrad on the Yangtze', with another gripping account from a conflict - an aspect of WWII which expands upon our usual Euro-centric 1939-45 view of it - that is less well known to us in the West than either the Eastern or Western European fronts, the war in the Med, or even the Pacific.

Accounts from all quarters - not just the Chinese and the Japanese military directly involved, but also the many others caught up in this massive and bloody conflict, from hapless civilians and foreign nationals on the ground, to the diplomats around the world - illuminate the unfolding story. And Harmsen proves that his previous book was no one-off, as in this one he once again expertly dovetails the many elements into an exciting and informative whole.

Chinese soldier poses with 'potato-masher 'grenade.

Not only are the many and varied participants' accounts expertly deployed in telling this fascinating story, likewise the many levels of the complex unfolding events are presented with a very deft hand. We are constantly but smoothly switching between sides, or shifting gears between levels, as Harmsen zooms in or pans out: from the geo-political overview, as the world powers struggle to find a position (and largely fail; only Germany, who re-align their allegiance from China to Japan, and Russia, who back China, really make meaningful stands), to the unfolding of the action itself, from the strategic overview to the panic and fog of war at ground level.

Throughout it all it's the gripping life and death drama at the latter level that largely drives both the events themselves, and Harmsen's wonderfully lucid and compelling narrative. Another brilliant chapter in a growing body of work. The Japanese war in China would drag on till 1945. Will we, therefore, be seeing further similar books from Harmsen, perhaps for example on the first Chinese victory, at Xuzhou (aka Taierzhuang)? I do hope so.

Peter Harmsen.

*Harmsen uses Nanjing throughout; in this instance - specific to the atrocities of the aftermath - I've chosen to stick with the name/phrase that I grew up knowing those events by.

Book Review: Shanghai, 1937, Stalingrad on The Yangtze, Peter Harmsen

N.B. This is a re-posting of a pretty old review. Only very slightly amended.

Peter Harmsen's excellent book about the battle for Shangai - the first book solely on this subject outside of China, apparently - really puts flesh and blood (and a lot of the latter) on the bones of certain events I had only very recently read about, in Rana Mitter's equally excellent but very different book, China's War With Japan. Mitter gave us a splendid overview of the whole Sino-Japanese conflict but, despite his work being just a little shy of a hefty 500 pages, in covering the entire colossal struggle he didn't give that much space over to specific detail. Harmsen's book supplies exactly that, zooming in on one relatively short campaign in what was the longest contested theatre of war during WWII, and relating it very vividly.

Chinese troops defending Shanghai.

Rather than only sending troops to Manchuria, where the Japanese were busily expanding their Manchukuo puppet state, and thereby allowing Japan to continue casting events there as an isolated incident, China's nationalist leader Chiang Kai-shek decided to open a 'second front', in Shanghai. After years of prevaricating and concessions (Japan had annexed Manchuria in 1931), basically because China wasn't really ready for war, the Marco Polo bridge incident finally precipitated a decision to respond unequivocally to Japan's aggressive encroachments. But by drawing Japan into conflict in a new and more southerly theatre, rather than simply responding locally, China was able to surprise and unbalance their enemy at the same time as revealing Japanese belligerence and imperial ambitions for what they were. But the stakes were high, as this meant risking the loss of a major city in the heartland of the country, not far from the capital, Nanjing.

This much I'd learned already in Mitter's account. However, Harmsen starts his book, after a very brief prologue, with another lesser known incident, local to Shanghai, involving nefarious night time skulduggery, the end result of which is three corpses, two of which are Japanese military personnel, and the third a Chinese of uncertain identity. The riddle of the events that lead to these deaths is never satisfactorily resolved, but they may have constituted the final straw that broke the camel's back. Harmsen narrates these events, making great use of contemporary accounts, in a way that means his story begins rather like a thriller.

Not sure what this photo depicts: Chinese matrons encouraging boy soldiers, is what it appears to show.

I won't relate the blow by blow progress of the actions covered here, as Harmsen does that so well you should really buy the book and enjoy the unfolding of the story for yourself. I found it utterly gripping, by turns thrilling and chilling. Reading about these and similar events in Mitter's book was fascinating, but despite the many instances where large casualty figures are given, and mention of the hand-wringing of figures like Chiang Kai-shek over the huge human sacrifices being made*, one simply doesn't get a visceral sense of the human dimension without going into nitty-gritty detail. Harmsen's detailed evocation of the events of the first few days of the conflict in Shanghai remedies that immediately.

Depth of detail is maintained throughout, with numerous personalised interludes recounting the firsthand experiences of a large and varied number of key protagonists. These are drawn from a remarkably diverse range of sources, including the memoirs and media of both sides, from privates to generals, and also the international observers, such as the Germans attached to the Chinese forces, or the members of the International Settlement, or representatives of the native and Western press. Harmsen's research has obviously been a long time in the preparing, and he marshals these resources superbly. In fact his adroit use of these resources reminds me of Paul Britten Austin's masterful 1812 trilogy, which that author described as a "word film". The effect is very evocative, and really draws one into the events described.

A poignnant image of  the terrible results of urban warfare.

The cost in Shanghai was terrible, and this book certainly doesn't shy away from the gory details. There's something almost surreal about the status of the many members of the International Settlement's very mixed community, as they sit and watch, on the edge of one of the world's first modern urban battles. They are occasionally drawn in, as at the beginning, on 'Black Saturday', and on occasion throughout the battle, and some of this detail is as shocking as the horrors of the official war zones. Towards the end of the book one of these foreign observers, Liliane Williams, then just a six year old girl, is quoted. Having seen the ruins of Shanghai after the battle: "I suddenly understood that wars meant the killing of real people, not death toll statistics printed in newspapers and mentioned on the radio."

Chinese officers plan manoeuvres.

There are plenty of useful maps, quite a lot of splendidly evocative black and white photos (some Chinese troops wore WWII German style helmets, some English!), and even OOB's, 'order of battle', for both sides. Harmsen's book really succeeds, for me, in bringing home the visceral impact of both this campaign and the larger war. This makes it both an ideal companion to Mitter's book, the former giving one the larger picture, the latter bringing one event in that huge mosaic very vividly to life, or an excellent standalone point of entry into this fascinating conflict about which we in the west know so little at present. These books have really educated me. I now no longer see Poland 1939 as the definitive start of WWII, rather I think it was in China, in Manchuria and Shanghai, that this global conflagration really began. I look forward to reading more on the subject!

Japanese troops enter the city.

* One of Harmsen's chapter titles, 'Flesh Against Steel', alludes to the fact that the Chinese were extremely profligate with men, a resource they had in abundance, whilst rather miserly with expensive and hard to replace materiel. In the former they way outnumbered the Japanese, whilst regarding the latter, they were totally outgunned, Japan's naval artillery, tanks, and near total air-supremacy playing key parts in their technological dominance of this stage of the war.

Author Peter Harmsen, left, in his role as journalist.

Film Review: Flags Of Our Fathers, 2006

Clint Eastwood and Steven Spielberg collaborated on bringing the book Flags of Our Fathers to the big screen. The book was written by James Bradley (with Ron Powers), son of John 'Doc' Badley, and tells the story of the six men - of whom 'Doc' Bradley was allegedly one (see further on this, below) - immortalised in Joe Rosenthal's famously iconic flag-raising photo, taken atop Mt. Suribachi, on the island of Iwo Jima.

The film, like the book, tells the story of combat and its aftermath, and how society celebrates and comes to terms with war, as much as it tells the story of the action on Iwo Jima itself. As wargamers and the like, it's perhaps this latter that may be of chief interest to us. 

Personally I find the other threads just as fascinating, although I will admit it's the, um... 'war porn' side (sorry, that's a horrible idea/phrase, but it kind of fits), that attracts me to the movie in the first place. But this in itself just goes to show the moral complexities of these fraught issues!

The movie starts, rather oddly - to my ears at least - on first hearing, with Clint Eastwood himself singing, in a ragged, thin, broken voice, partial lyrics to the song 'I'll Walk Alone'. This isn't his only musical contribution; Eastwood not only directed this picture, he also composed the soundtrack!

The initial scenes ...

... show Dreamworks CGI ...

... used to stunning effect.

Spielberg's Dreamworks fingerprints are all over the technical side of this film, which is truly spectacular in its CGI-enhanced depiction of the massive invasion flotilla, and the explosive and bloody combat scenes. And whilst Eastwood and Spielberg both undoubtedly have their own personal political axes to grind, and their views doubtless seep through in their work, it's also clear that this picture aims to be as even-handed and authentic as they could make it. [1]

Rosenthal's celebrated photograph.

Perhaps not unsurprisingly, the six figures in this iconic image, two of whom are barely visible, have not always been identified consistently. After an investigation in 1947, the Marine Corps themselves settled on the following, L-R: Ira Hayes, Franklin Sousley, Michael Strank (behind Sousley), John Bradley, Rene Gagnon (behind Bradley), and Harlon Block. Block Was initially identified as Henry Hansen, but the 1947 enquiry decided that it was indeed Block, and not Hansen in the picture. 

Subsequently, more recent amateur investigations suggested that the figure identified as Bradley is in fact Sousley [2]. This eventually lead to a second Marine Corps review board investigation, at which it was decided that Harold Schultz and not Bradley, was in the photograph of the second flag raising, which has become such a famous symbol of the US military at war.

The 1st flag raising.

There were actually two flags raised, with Bradley participating in the securing of the first, and present at, although not pictured in Rosenthal's most famous photo of the second. The first flag was raised by a slightly different group, which did include both Hansen and Bradley, being replaced later the same day (Feb. 23rd, 1945) by the second larger flag.

Harlon Block, above, was initially misidentified as Henry Hansen.

Ira Hayes, the unhappy 'hero'.

Rene Gagnon points himself out.

John 'Doc' Bradley.

Schultz, only identified as a flag-raiser long after his death, in 1995.

As already alluded to above, this movie isn't just a depiction of the fight for Iwo Jima. It uses Rosenthal's famous photograph, the darkroom discovery of which starts the film, and the effect this image has on the war-bond and propaganda drive back home in the U.S, to explore themes of the psychological effects of combat, and how we rationalise war, both for those involved - and in the context of this film that means, primarily, for the three surviving flag-raisers and their combat buddies - and for those at home.

Joe Rosenthal, signing copies of his famous photograph.

Perhaps somewhat ironically, given the Spike Lee imbroglio (see footnote [2], below), Eastwood's decision to start the movie with 'I'll Walk Alone', and the way he focuses on the story of Native American marine Ira Hayes - who some time after the war literally walked alone 1,300 miles to visit the family of a fallen comrade (Harlon Block) - is a clear effort to redress the injustices in a young nation, seen from the European rooted perspective, that is, that has certainly struggled with issues of racism.

Bradley, Hayes and Gagnon, movie style ...

... and the real trio: Gagnon, Bradley, Hayes.

Hayes, along with John Bradley, is one of the core trio, rounded out by PFC Rene Gagnon, who are brought home and fêted as heroes, to be utilised, in conjunction with Rosenthal's iconic image, as means to raise war-bonds.

This is akin - but here as more of a central narrative plank - to the segment of the Hanks/Spielberg Pacific series in which John Basilone, another hero of Iwo Jima, is brought home to help raise war revenues. Basilone, as depicted in that series at any rate, tired of the hero role, requesting that he be sent back to fight (and to die, as it turned out) with his buddies.

Of the three men depicted in Eastwood's movie, it's Ira Heyes who has the greatest struggle adjusting to post-combat life, and in particular the idea of himself as a war hero.

Eastwood directs.

Personally I think Eastwood deals with every aspect of this complex and difficult subject superbly well. The film is by turns exciting, inspiring, harrowing, and always moving. And within this impressive range there's everything from light humour to heavyweight seriousness. Not bad!

Mt Suribachi, Iwo Jima.

Recovering the wounded.

Detritus of the amphibious assault litters the beach.

Having given some of the more sociological and psychological - perhaps even philosophical? - aspects of this superb film some consideration, let's turn now to the depiction of the combat. Well, the first thing to say is that, despite coming in well under budget - according to figures I've seen on't interweb (prob. Wikipedia) [3] - this is a stunning film. The depictions of the invasion fleet, its deployment, and the initial attack on the beaches, are all jaw-droppingly impressive. 

The desaturated colour is near monotone...

... and adds a kind of gritty period feel.

Resulting in a green tinged near black and white look.

The naval bombardment, the use of waves of carrier-borne aircraft, and the huge deployment of landing craft (500 in 10 waves) are all beautifully and very dramatically rendered, with an excellently judicious mix of CGI and 'real' hardware, etc.

The black volcanic sands, and indeed all the terrain, none of which was shot on Iwo Jima itself, are superbly recreated. And the combat scenarios, which focus predominantly on the initial landing and subsequent fate of the 3rd Platoon, Easy co, 2nd Battalion, 28th U.S. Marines, as they attack and eventually reach the summit of mount Suribachi, are brilliantly recreated. 

This film is told expressly from the American side, and as such the Japanese are - perhaps surprisingly, given the situation - a relatively minor presence in the narrative. Mostly they're dug in and sniping, remaining nigh on invisible to both their 'dogface' adversaries and us viewers, except for occasional (and very brutal) moments of hand to hand combat, or when flushed from their defences, or populating the battle-scarred island as corpses.

The Japanese perspective, companion to Flags.

With respect to the Japanese perspective Eastwood shows his credentials for even-handedness not so much in this film itself (although that is indeed visible to the discerning eye), as in its companion piece, Letters From Iwo Jima, which film - made entirely in subtitled Japanese - expressly tells the Japanese side of this momentous and bloody battle. 

But even in Flags of Our Fathers Eastwood doesn't flinch from this balanced position, witness the poignant scene in which 'Doc' Bradley, attending to a wounded American in a dug-out, dispatches a Japanese soldier who attacks them: there's no old-fashioned Hollywood style instant, silent, painless death for the latter. Such scenes force the viewer to face the horror and insanity of the most brutal aspects of war.

A Higgins boat near the landing site.

Men and machines, casualties of war.

Eastwood does everyone involved the best honour anyone could really do, as Bradley junior also set out to do (at least according to the quotes from his work with which this film ends), not by whitewashing the story in a propagandistic style, but by accepting and depicting it all in its unresolved - and perhaps unresolvable? - complexity. 

I'd say this is a really excellent film. It manages to handle complex issues without dumbing down, and at the same time it's a rip-snorting good war movie, that shouldn't fail to entertain and inform lovers of the genre.

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NOTES:

[1] This didn't stop Spike Lee wading in with criticism of the movie for what he deemed to be under-representation of African-American troops in the film. Pictured above, three African American soldiers on the beach at Iwo Jima, found here.

[2] For those interested, I found an article here, that delves into this issue!

[3] With a projected budget of $80 million, the film actually only cost $55 million.