Cross of Iron

Director : Sam Peckinpah

Majestic Theatre

Referring back to the opening documentary collage that established the time and place, it is clear that the "him" in the quote means Hitler. Director Sam Peckinpah intends the warning to be the film's conclusion and the preceeding drama to act as its best frame of reference.

The year is 1943, the Russian offensive is gathering momentum and the face of war sits grimly in the hard-bitten visage of Corporal Steiner [James Coburn], a German soldier with excellent credentials in his job. His is a personal tragedy set within the wider tragedy of war — the two are inextricably linked. Steiner and his regiment live in a contradiction : they hate war but are its most efficient disciples. Their position, their attitudes and their development as characters provide the main areas in interest and it is through them that the film gets its message across. It is a largely successful method, for not only does it enable the audience a direct identification with them but, and this is an uncommon departure for war movies, it gives the enemy a face, so that for all their ruthlessness as German soldiers of war, they remain essentially human beings. The only exception here is Captain Stransky, a role with more than just a hint of banality ["If I go back without the Iron Cross, I couldn't face my family"], a role which upsets the generally credible tone of the rest of the film and which actor Maximilian Schell does little to overcome.

If the fact that it is the Germans we are seeing rather than the usual hero-Americans marks one change from the conventional war film, there are other differences equally worth investigating. Firstly, instead of having the heroes of the film marching towards victory, the soldiers here are continually in retreat. Secondly, on account of their defensive position, the theatre of war is initially being brought upon them instead of having them going out, attacking and creating it for themselves. Such circumstances discourage a positive audience response to [unclear: the] violence. The winning side is the Russian army [unclear: and] they are, figuratively speaking, without faces. Since our viewpoint is from the German side, Peckinpah thus forces us to confront war as defeat — the intention is to make us uncomfortable in our seats, and we are.

The reality of war is captured in grim detail : mud, smoke, blood: The claustropobic bunker interiors contrasting with the exteriors of the countryside and its defacement. Shells fall continuously and serve to either punctuate or interrupt the dialogue in the German camp. The battle sequences when they do occur, are depicted in short, crisply edited sequences that stress chaos and disorder, with few of the camera shots ever completely covering the field of action. Such quick cutting creates a kind of shellshock upon the audience, especially as most shots either cut from or onto the sound of an explosion.

Another technique Peckinpah uses, probably his most well-known, is to have people dying in slow motion. The soldiers participate in a grisly ballet of war; their dance of death gives rise to a further contradiction : death as beauty.

All of these elements — the acting, direction and editing — go towards making a very good war movie and Peckinpah is at great pains to let us know that the message is anti-war and not a glorification of it. No doubt in doing so he is motivated by a sincere conviction but I wonder whether the point is made as clearly in the action as it is in the opening and closing credit sequences. Not entirely, since the articulation of the message is to simply show men dying, and dying, and dying. I won't go so far as to call Peckinpah's honesty into question but one question remains. Does the message excuse the violence? I think not, but it is a consideration worth bearing in mind, since all of Peckinpah's films since Junior Bonner have dealt with violence in some way or another. The violence of war is a terrible thing, we know. Cross of Iron is there to remind us of this.

— David Beresford.