War movies tend to follow some fairly traditional beats,
emphasizing the horrors of combat while glorifying the sacrifice that soldiers
make in order to protect their comrades-in-arms. This is particularly true in World War II
films, with an added understanding that Nazis are entirely disposable bad guys
on the opposite end of the moral spectrum from the righteous American
saviors. With Fury, however, director David Ayer seems to reject that rosy
picture of American involvement in the war, and while our heroes happen to be
fighting for the right side of the conflict, war has made them anything but
virtuous.
Our film opens on a tank crew, led by “Wardaddy” (Brad
Pitt), that has just lost their bow gunner to enemy fire. It is the end of the war, as American troops
roll into Germany and Hitler’s regime makes its final death throes. Enter Norman Ellison, a recruit who has been
trained as a typist and has only just now been thrust into combat. He is the new replacement bow gunner, and
nobody on the five-man crew is happy about that, least of all him. As we learn from Norman’s perspective, the
soldiers are far from the righteous protectors of freedom that history and
period propaganda have shown us; these are men destroyed by war and are only
being held together by Wardaddy’s guidance.
The true genius of this film is that Norman’s character arc
isn’t so much a coming of age story as a slow and dark transformation into the
type of person his tank-mates have become.
They are excessively violent, prone to lewd jokes about raping civilians
and desecrating the Bible, and take a perverse joy out of killing Nazis. Even civilian death does not phase them, as
enemy Germans are just enemy Germans to them, with civilian rules of engagement
only observed under threat of personal reprimand. The true tension of the story comes from
seeing how far Norman is going to slip into their habits, as it becomes
increasingly clear that their psychopathy is only their coping mechanism for
the daily horrors they must endure. This
is only accentuated by Pitt’s fantastic portrayal of Wardaddy, a mentor to
Norman who is only barely keeping himself together more than his crew and acts
as Norman’s lifeline to humanity.
But even beyond the superb characterization, the action
scenes in this film are some of the most unique I’ve seen in a period war
piece. Almost all of the combat is done
in the crew’s tank, and my gods does David Ayer know how to direct some tense
tank action. Tanks are lumbering beasts
that require the coordination of multiple people, meaning that every maneuver
becomes a race and shouting match to get in position to fire at an enemy’s weak
spot. Between cramped close-ups of the
crew to aerial shots of the tanks moving into position, to hearing the Germans
frantically shout their own commands, these scenes are some of the most intense
and unique I can think of from a recent war flick.
All in all, I really enjoyed Fury. It’s unapologetically
dark, so while it hits some of the same beats that other war films do
concerning honor and sacrifice, David Ayer presents those beats in a context
that is rarely acknowledged in American cinema, and that makes for a welcome
change. If you want to come out of this
film feeling good about humanity, then I don’t think this is your cup of tea. But if you want some intense action and a
bold take on how war can change a person, this is probably right up your alley.
Between this, Fight
Club, and Inglorious Basterds,
Brad Pitt seems to be the go-to guy for deconstructing masculine ideals. Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
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