1917 Review

Ok, I'll admit it: I hate long takes. By that I mean, more specifically, uninterrupted tracking shots, sometimes called "one-ers". Impressive logistical feats that require meticulous planning, good one-ers, used sparingly and done well as in Children of Men and Goodfellas, can heighten immersion and tension. Their technical difficulty means a successful example is held up as the sign of ultimate filmmaking skill. But that makes it a target in itself; the result is sub-par filmmakers overextending themselves and doing it badly, hurting the quality of their films.

The hallmarks of a bad one-er -- constant movement, conspicuous blocking (the movement of actors in front of the camera) and wonky angles -- serve only to draw attention to the artifice of cinema. A bad long take suggests an authorial presence desperate to prove its directorial skill, and are thus inherently immature, appealing mainly to fresher film students.

Cinema in the last couple of decades has featured a minor subplot of directors trying to one-up each other with bigger, better and more complex tracking shots. Alfonso Cuaron set the bar high with the aforementioned Children of Men, which features three extended one-ers. Alejandro Iñarritu, the worst offender, has since produced two films ostensibly comprising a single long take, the irritating Birdman and The Revenant. Sam Mendes has been dipping his toe in, notably the Day of the Dead sequence in Spectre, which to be fair is a pretty good example.

Mendes upped the ante earlier this year with First World War piece 1917. The film is presented as two continuous takes (a "two-er" if you like), with one cut mid-way through signalling a jump ten-or-so hours ahead. The scale of 1917 means Mendes can consider the ante successfully upped compared to the claustrophobic Birdman. Well done Sam, pat on the back.

Unfortunately, Mendes' determination to prove his skill scuppered what could have been a decent film. It is really mystifying why Mendes chose to tell his story in such a way. I guess he thought it seemed cool, an impressive technique befitting an impressive setting, but the approach causes a litany of problems. Mendes struggles to reconcile a two-hour run-time with events that span perhaps 16 hours.

Mendes' long takes create a confusing topology. After the plane crash, we encounter an entire squadron who have just silently appeared a few yards from what was presented as a deserted bit of map. Schofield and Baker were supposed to be one a lone mission in a race against time; how, then, have they been overtaken by a whole troop on their way somewhere else? Further, it undercuts the preceding scenes, which built tension on the pair's isolation and potential lurking Germans. No worries, here's a big truck full of unbothered men. The impression is an inadvertent surrealism, supernaturalism even. 

Distances are warped, too, with Schofield's ride in the back of the truck seeming to cover no more than a quarter-mile or so. His dip in the river appears to cover maybe 100 metres. Filmmakers, generally speaking, work hard to establish and maintain a cohesive geography by using establishing shots and following certain rules. And as an audience, we are pretty well-trained when it comes to mentally tracking film-space. But Mendes' one-ers trample all over that: it is simply incredibly obvious that little physical space has been covered either in the truck or in the river, let alone the purported nine miles that comprises Schofield and Baker's mission. Immersion is constantly broken.

What's exasperating is that all of this was avoidable by simply choosing to shoot in a "normal" way. Maybe reserve long takes for a few shorter sequences, such the bunker scene or when the first wave goes over the top. Then you can use cuts to allow time to elapse legibly and establish a cohesive geography. And it would make it more, not less, immersive, as you would not be reminded every few minutes that there's a whole team frantically running and ducking about and moving bits of scenery behind the camera.

That being said, 1917 is fitfully enjoyable. The plane crash is startling and the night-time street shootout, starkly illuminated by harsh flares, is arresting. Colin Firth, Andrew Scott, Richard Madden and, in particular, Benedict Cumberbatch are engaging in the limited screen time they get. But like the sucking mud of a shell crater, 1917 never escapes Mendes' overbearing directorial presence.