No Good Very Bad Movies 25: The one by Sam Peckinpah

 

Title: Cross of Iron

What Year?: 1977

Classification: Improbable Experiment

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/3)

 

If there’s one thing the “worst” movies feature has been good for, it has been covering films that interest me which fall outside the sci fi/ fantasy genre boundaries of my other features. This has been all the more true for my current survey of unusual films from noted directors. This time around, I have a movie I first looked into around the time I started blogging, from a filmmaker whom I still otherwise know only by his reputation. It remains one of the stranger films to come to my attention, and one that’s discomforting enough that I had already postponed viewing it again. After a fresh viewing, I am certainly satisfied it belongs here, not because it is “bad” but because of its oddity. I present Cross of Iron, a World War 2 movie by Sam Peckinpah, the guy otherwise known for ultra-violent Westerns.

Our story begins, after a German children’s song set to images of warfare and mayhem, with a grim and wearying battle between Nazis and their Soviet enemies. In short order, we meet our protagonist, a surprisingly old or else prematurely aged corporal named Steiner, and his commanders, a colonel named Brandt and a newcomer, Stransky. The new captain proves to be a proud Prussian aristocrat out to win glory and the prized Iron Cross. He also isn’t above ordering casual atrocities, including the execution of a teenage prisoner whom Steiner protects and releases. The misadventure becomes the opening of a new onslaught from Russian forces who disregard their own losses and collateral damage to their country’s civilians. When the proverbial dust settles, Steiner is wounded and Stransky is up for the Iron Cross, but they both know the real hero of the day was killed in action. The tension grows with Steiner’s return to a losing battle with rampaging T34s and an all-female Soviet platoon. When the battle finds Steiner and the survivors of his platoon behind enemy lines, the captain recognizes a chance to remove the one obstacle to his award. But will he or anyone else make it home?

Cross of Iron was a 1977 war drama directed by Sam Peckinpah, based on the 1955 novel The Willing Flesh by Willi Heinrich, a veteran of the Ostfront. The production was backed by the English companies EMI an ITC Entertainment and the German concern Rapid Film. The cast was led by James Coburn as Steiner and Maximillian Schell (see The Black Hole) as Stransky, with James Mason of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea as Oberst Brandt and David Warner of Time Bandits (and Christmas Carol?) as Kiesel. The film was shot in Slovenia and Croatia, then part of Yugoslavia, reportedly using T34s and other weapons and equipment provided by the Yugoslav military. The total $6 million budget of the production reportedly failed to cover a planned final battle sequence, resulting in a hastily filmed ending with possible input from Coburn. The film was poorly received by US critics and audiences, though it was well-received in Germany. It gained popularity with current and later filmmakers and critics, including Orson Welles and Quentin Tarantino. It remains available on disc and digital platforms.

For my experiences, I saw this one on a passing recommendation from a correspondent. It popped up early on my blog when I saw fit to mention it in one of my posts on Marx figures as an example of growing awareness of Russia’s role in World War 2 in the 1960s and 1970s. Even then, I was equivocal about watching the film or reviewing it. It ended up harder to get the second time, so I put it on hold while I lined up other material. When I finally went in, I was honestly prepared for the contingency of disqualifying it (something I haven’t done since Creepers) because of just how uncomfortable it gets. In the end, I got through it with my usual strategy of not really paying attention, which quickly proved more justified than usual.

Moving forward, the thing to get out of the way is the almost distracting star power. Coburn, who would have been about 48 when the movie was filmed, is as dominating as he should be. Schell matches him after a fashion, quickly going into full scenery-chomping mode; if you’re ever not sure if he’s on the screen, which is a recurring issue with a number of characters, you will definitely know him by his voice. Things take an odd, unintentionally on-the-nose turn with the casting of Mason, whose iconic turn as Captain Nemo was widely regarded as the basis of Schell’s Dr. Rheinhart in The Black Hole. The one you would really want to watch for is Warner, cast as a de facto administrative assistant to the colonel. His character here is the antithesis to his over-the-top villainy in Time Bandits, and all the more fascinating for it. He doesn’t do much and says even less, yet he maintains a compelling screen presence even if you aren’t looking for him. In many ways, he’s the most convincingly authentic figure, practically hiding in plain sight while history unfolds around him, undoubtedly well aware of the likelihood that he’s on the losing side.

The other side of the equation is the combat sequences, and this is as good a point as any to note there are at least three different running times listed for the movie, presumably from alternate cuts or outright censorship. I watched the longest one, at 132 minutes, and it definitely shows. The odd part is that there is very little that is graphic or extreme then or now. The cumulative effect comes from the sheer length, which is one thing the hostile critics pointed out repeatedly and fairly. It’s all well and good that Peckinpah literally wears away the glory and glamor of battle (not to mention the Nazis’ own propaganda and later revisionism), with the only glorious “last stand” moments being an indoor T34 engagement and the surreal spectacle of Mason emptying an MP40. But there’s nothing here that couldn’t have been done as well or better in a much shorter time. The most obvious choice for the chopping block would be the whole uncomfortable and unrewarding episode with the Russian women, which I was personally prepared to skip right over. The only reason I got through it is that it’s too fast-paced to see nearly as much as one might remember after the fact, but this is definitely a case where what isn’t shown is 90% of the horror and the “cringe”.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I was definitely going with the T34 rumpus, which is as exponentially more terrifying as the velociraptors in the kitchen, so that’s honorable mention. (And why put the cannon through the wall without firing?) And if I’m not talking about T34s, you know there’s a doozy coming. The part that’s stuck in my mind is Steiner’s trip back home, specifically a meeting with the higher-ups of the Reich. It turned out I couldn’t find a full video of this part, but I think I have it reconstructed. It starts with Steiner in  a garden party of the wounded and disfigured, including a band that plays as a band of higher-ups pay a visit. They speak to or at least at Steiner and his nurse, who puts a jacket with his medals over his shoulders. Then there’s a nice touch I forgot about as one of them extends a hand to the next veteran, only to be offered a stump, and another, and finally a foot. The brass regroup and go straight to a prepared banquet. It’s all too much for Steiner, to the point that reality itself convincingly bends as he rises (or does he???...) for a blowup. This is surrealism done right, tellingly from a filmmaker who specialized in graphic hyperrealism, and the best testimony I can give is that I still haven’t worked out how much of what follows is supposed to be real.

In closing, I’m back to form with the rating. On a certain level, I admit that this is one movie that didn’t really belong here, outside of the fact that I long since dedicated this feature to the weird and random more than actual “worsts”. By my honest assessment, this is a film that is overrated as much as it is underrated. It’s a quality movie that deserved better in its own time and since, but it’s still a stretch to call it the “classic” some make it out to be. With the rating scale at hand, it gets the top rating simply because I have nothing better to address its strengths and its flaws. For me, the final verdict is that there are still better movies, and plenty of those that it could have equaled or exceeded with more focus and restraint, especially from its director. And with that, I am bidding it farewell a second time. Onward and upward…