2019 was a storied year for film. The last year before the pandemic, the year felt like a capstone for the medium in many ways. Not only did franchises like the golden age run of the Marvel Cinematic Universe inAvengers: Endgameand the SkywalkerStar Warssaga conclude, but the most celebrated filmmakers, includingMartin ScorseseandQuentin Tarantino, crafted poeticreflections of bygone erasinThe IrishmanandOnce Upon a Time…in Hollywood. Best Picture winners are destined to be controversial and divisive, but generally speaking, everyone was thrilled withParasite’s victory and achievement as thefirst-ever foreign language film to win the top prize at the Academy Awards.Thanks to other brilliant films likeMarriage StoryandUncut Gems, cinephiles were riding first class in 2019, but one film,1917, was a critical sensation, primarily due to its impressive feat of technical filmmaking. However, five years later,Sam Mendes' war film lost much of its cultural resonance. In hindsight, the driving power behind the film’s release,the extended single-take gimmick, diluted the artistic value of the story.
April 6th, 1917. As an infantry battalion assembles to wage war deep in enemy territory, two soldiers are assigned to race against time and deliver a message that will stop 1,600 men from walking straight into a deadly trap.
‘1917’s Extended Single-Take Was an Impressive Demonstration of Technical Craft
BeforeParasiteshocked the world,1917arrived at the 2019-2020 awards season as the prohibitive favorite at the Oscars. The World War I-set film about two soldiers racing against time to deliver a message that will stop 1,600 soldiers from walking into a deadly trap was ripe for Oscar success. Not only is it a period war film, but it alsofeatures a prestigious filmmaker and previous Best Director winner, Sam Mendes, as well as top-of-the-line craftspeople, notably the renowned cinematographerRoger Deakins. Without question, the film’s calling card and the source of its critical adoration came from its extended one-take–not just for one scene but the entire narrative.1917isdesigned to appear as though it was shot in one continuous long take,mimicking the sensation that the viewer is following Lance Corporal Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Lance Corporal Schofield (George MacKay) from behind.
Grossing over $384 million at the global box office,1917was one of those movies you had to see to believe. The effect of the continuous unbroken shot resonates on first viewing. At a primal level, the film delivers on its promise, morphing into an uncanny cross between war documentary footage and a combat video game. Beyond the spectacle of the visual language,it keeps the viewer uneasy, holding their breath at all times.In the most famous long shots in history,including the opening ofTouch of Eviland thecar ambush inChildren of Men, the lack of cuts accelerates the tension. When a director refuses to cut away, audiences expect something monumental or fatalistic. Mendes allows this tension to simmer for an extended period, giving the film anunprecedentedamount of suspense for a combat film.The film was sold with the assertion that it was crafted in one take, but it was a case of misleading advertising. About two-thirds into the film, Schofield is knocked unconscious, the screen fades to black, and the story transitions from day to night, indicating a conspicuous break from the continuous single take. Mendesconfirmed that a cut exists at this momentto execute the transition.
The Inherent Flaw with Single-Take Movies Like ‘1917’
Despite all the technical ingenuity and aesthetic flair film can offer, the medium lives and dies by storytelling. While, on the surface,1917’s single-take structure is applause-worthy, it muddies the dramaturgy of the film. Mendes’ war drama is not the first instance of a film driven by the feat of an extended single take. A recent example, the Best Picture-winningBirdman, suffers from a similar exhaustive continuous long take that undermines afascinating drama about an aging star reckoning with his ageand remorse. DirectorAlejandroGonzálezIñárritu’s work is often criticized for being audacious for the sake of being audacious while putting story and character on the back burner. InBirdman’s case, a grounded narrative primarily set in Broadway dressing rooms, thecontinuous single take only serves as a distraction rather than an artistic fulfillment. The classic single-take movie that set the standard for this visual gimmick,Alfred Hitchcock’sRope,best understands the value of this cinematic device.Because the film does not ask “Who did the murder?” but instead, “Will they get away with it?”, the unbroken take keeps the tension pulsating in this precarious scenario, where one minor misstep will jeopardize the characters' innocence.
The reason behind1917’s lack of staying power in culture is a testament to the short life span of the single-take gimmick. Mainstream audiences were captivated by Mendes' feat of athletic filmmaking, which made Roger Deakins,already one of the most revered DPsworking today, a household name. Fawning over virtuosic technical craft gradually makes the product feel shallow in enough time. While not inherently a crutch,single takes emphasize the laborious and painstaking nature of filmmaking rather than storytelling, resulting in them carrying a gimmicky effect.1917is a paradox, withJustin Changdescribing the film’s style in his review as"distracting as it is immersive.“Mendes' direction is impressive to the point of exhaustion. After a while, the trick becomes gratuitous, especially when it supersedes character and heart.
The Emotional Distance of ‘1917’ Caused by The Distracting Single-Take Structure
For Sam Mendes, who co-wrote1917withKrysty Wilson-Cairns, the film contained personal roots. His grandfather was amessenger for the British army on the Western Front during WWI.While there are emotionally stirring moments in the film, notably the climactic scene when Schofield runs across the battlefield, Mendes' sentimentality feels quite distant on the screen, andthe lack of personal touch in the film is a byproduct of the single take spectacle dominating the spotlight. The film follows the perspective of these two soldiers, yet the audience never learns anything about them. They’re hardly even real people–just vessels used to keep the single-take gimmick moving along. The film, whether through didactic speech or evocation,neglects to formulate anyconcrete take on war and its horror.The video game aesthetic of single-take movies was exacerbated in1917, with the premise resembling a point-A to-point-B mission.
To suggest thatSam Mendes' visual featis unimpressive would be dishonest. The extended unbroken take sucks the viewer in right from the start, andit is executed impeccably–perhaps too impeccably. Its showiness compels the audience to focus on formalism rather than storytelling. For a film to maintain relevance in the culture, story, character, and emotions are the foundation of all timeless classics.Buried under the formalist spectacle is a gripping story about two soldiers embarking on a harrowing adventure, running into superior officersplayed by the best British actors around, and contemplating fate and the purpose of war along the way. Unfortunately, its storytelling potential had no chance against the power of a continuous take.
