Best Picture: #43
Original Release Date: April 22, 1970
Rating: PG
Runtime: 2 hours, 52 minutes
Director: Franklin J. Schaffner
Quick Impressions:
Before watching this film, my daughter and I found its theatrical trailer on YouTube, and…um…wow. That left us with quite a strange (and strong) impression of the movie. For one thing, unlike the version of Patton we eventually purchased to stream on Prime Video, the footage in the trailer had not been restored at all, so the noise, age, and poor resolution were hard to get past. Setting these cosmetic issues aside, though, the trailer left us with the impression that in the movie, Patton would deliver a speech in front of a giant American flag, drive around in a tank blowing up everything in his wake, deliver a weird apology to an assembled crowd of soldiers, then climb back into the tank and recommence with the blowing up.
We laughed and laughed about this until we actually watched the movie.
“You know,” my daughter remarked at one point, in the middle of the second half, “that trailer was actually pretty accurate.”
For sure, after intermission, Patton does spend an almost mind-numbing amount of time driving across Europe in a tank, blowing everything up. What’s really great is that while he drives around–whether by tank or by Jeep–the film’s swelling score plays to herald his arrival. It’s great music, but after a while, it gets repetitive. We hear Patton’s “driving into battle” theme more than any other music. We hear it so often that it begins to sound like the opening of a TV show. It’s a very pronounced (and oft repeated) theme, every bit as heavily emphasized as the highly recognizable themes in, say, Star Wars. (Just by listening, you know who is on screen–Darth Vader, Luke, Leia, Rey.) In this film, the only theme is Patton’s theme.
After a while, I started joking to my daughter, “I imagine that in real life, he just has this theme playing everywhere he goes, like he’s a cartoon character. When Paton rides through, everyone actually hears his theme.” They all know he’s coming when his theme music starts to play.
“This really is like the trailer,” she noted. “He drives around blowing things up.”
The film does portray Patton as a character, larger-than-life, more a presence than a mere man.
Just recently (after watching One Night in Miami) I was thinking about that old game (or assignment) of imagining famous characters at a dinner party together, trying to decide how they would interact, what each would say and do. Patton would be great for this type of exercise. After watching the movie, I feel confident that I know what General Patton would say and do in any situation. At least, I know what George C. Scott’s General Patton would say and do.
Before watching this film, I knew shamefully little about Patton, but I feel I have a real sense of the man now. He’s the sort of historical figure I love, a true eccentric, driven by an inner sense of purpose, unable to be anything but what he is. He’s an odd man for sure, and the film has made me curious to learn more about him.
The Plot:
Four-star General George S. Patton (who apparently finds it most expedient to stick on newly earned stars himself) loves nothing more than bravery in battle. Sure he peppers his remarks with profanity. That’s to make sure his words stick. But he’s a God fearing man to whom faith is central. Of course, some of his beliefs don’t seem strictly Christian, such as his conviction that he’s lived multiple lives as a soldier and once fought on ancient battlefields which now lie in ruins. In World War II, Patton bravely commands troops in North Africa. His knack for strategy and drive to defeat the enemy at all costs win him conspicuous victories (though not without losses), but he makes a poor decision off the battlefield that jeopardizes his entire career. Sidelined but undeterred, Patton will do anything for another command, and when he finally gets one, his Third Army performs arduous acts of heroism that help the Allies to win the war in Europe.
The Good:
This film has an extremely honest title. It’s called Patton, and it spends its nearly three-hour runtime tightly focused on Patton. It lets him describe himself to us in his own words. It shows us his deeds. And when more in-depth background information about the general is needed, the German officer assigned to profile him shows up with tons of intel.
That’s actually what I love best about the movie. Showing wonderful economy, the film gives all non-dynamic exposition to the Nazis. As we watched, I simply could not shut up about the brilliance of this narrative device. After all, this film is about one of the most effective American generals in World War II. We expect to see the enemy! It would be odd and disappointing if the Nazis did not show up at some point. The story would feel imbalanced, like Patton was fighting shadows. So the German officers plotting strategy in their war council room need to be there.
But every time we cut away to them, all they do is talk about Patton! One young officer has been given the assignment of researching and profiling him. He knows everything about Patton, how he thinks, what motivates him, what he will likely do next and why he will do it. Essentially, every time we cut away to the Germans, we get tons of information about Patton. Even though we’re looking at the enemy, these scenes are actually devoted to giving us greater insight about the film’s American protagonist. Exposition that might have bogged down the story elsewhere is crammed into these scenes, put into the mouths of Nazi officers. Meanwhile, because the Nazis take care of so much expository detail and character analysis, Patton’s scenes are freed up to deliver all the movie’s action. This method of storytelling is effective in several ways. For one thing, it leaves us with the impression that Patton is the person who does all the important stuff. His German enemies just sit around talking about him. For another, it wastes absolutely no time. We need to see the Germans, and we need to hear this information about Patton, so the Germans give it to us. How economical! Thirdly, we see how different Patton is from most people. The German profiler seems to understand him better than the Americans do because Patton is not like his peers. He doesn’t fit in. To be understood, he must be studied. Also, scenes like this organically emphasize some differences between the way the Germans and the Americans think. (The Germans insist that the Americans wouldn’t sideline their best general merely for slapping a soldier!)
Another kind of cool aspect of the film is the way it builds the myth not only of Patton but also of Dwight Eisenhower. We never see Eisenhower, but everyone talks about him semi-constantly. He seems omniscient, omnipresent. The Americans simply call him “Ike.” If this were an ancient Greek drama, characters might talk about Zeus, what he wills, what angers him, what he plans. Ike is shown similar reverence. We know that Ike realizes the value of Patton, while also understanding things about being in charge that Patton does not. I’d imagine that for the original audience of the film, back in 1970, there’d be a sort of thrill in hearing the characters talk about Ike. It’s like a secret code the audience is in on. We all like Ike, right?
The person we do see is Patton. We see him almost constantly. George C. Scott’s Oscar-winning turn as the famous (and infamous) general is a pleasure to watch. The role was probably exhausting to perform. He’s in almost every scene of the movie. (Of course, he does not appear in the German war room, and there’s a tense tank battle that happens without him. But for the most part, we follow Patton.) He has tons of lines. He dominates the action.
As I’ve mentioned, Scott plays Patton as a larger-than-life character, but the movie left me with the impression that Patton played Patton that way also. At one point, one of his aides remarks that the men don’t know when he’s being serious and when he’s performing. For sure, Patton is acting a part. It’s not that he isn’t the man he’s pretending to be. It’s more like he’s doing a non-stop impression of himself. His entire life is a performance, designed to elicit a response. He tells other characters on several occasions that he peppers his language with profanity and coarseness so that people pay attention and remember what he says. Scott’s Patton comes across as a genuinely devout Christian who believes in reincarnation and swears liberally. He’s fanatically devoted to order and proper dress. (Everyone must wear a helmet at all times!) He thrives on the bloodiness of the battlefield. For him, courage is the greatest virtue, cowardice the ultimate betrayal of what men are born to be. He also writes poetry and loves his dog. He speaks in a gravelly voice and has noticeably crooked teeth. In short, he’s the kind of person who leaves an impression. I never met the real man, but Scott’s performance of him is so vivid that I feel like I have.
The movie has some solid supporting performances, too. My favorite of these is Karl Malden as General Omar Bradley, although if I’m being perfectly honest, I found Bradley likeable and trustworthy simply because I always like Karl Malden, and I know Bradley’s name. It’s not the same kind of performance that Scott gives as Patton.
Also noteworthy is that Francis Ford Coppola co-wrote the Oscar winning screenplay. I associate him with films like The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, and Dracula. I never realized before this that he had anything to do with Patton.
Best Action Sequence:
The movie gives us a fantastic burst of action when a British military officer tells Patton, “You’ll see no more German planes.”
Suddenly, we’re on the edge of our seats, laughing, gasping, cheering, shouting out incredulous questions. It’s hard to tell if we’re watching the serious biography of a World War II general or an Indiana Jones movie.
But the most pivotal moment in the story comes during a scene of unexpected violence. Since the action of the film takes place during World War II, you would think a massive battle would be the epic turning point in Patton’s career. But no, the violent scene that follows him for the rest of his career happens in a hospital tent when he slaps a shell shocked American soldier and repeatedly denounces him as a coward.
Watching, my daughter and I recoiled in horror. I was painfully ignorant about Patton’s story before watching this film, so his behavior here genuinely surprised me. Military men have known about battle fatigue for quite a while, haven’t they? I would have expected any career soldier who has seen the time on the battlefield that Patton has to recognize signs of trauma and psychological distress. Obviously the solider in question is having a medical problem and should be temporarily removed from combat if at all possible. (If you’re going to be hard-hearted about it, the simple fact is he won’t do his own side any good. In that state, in Patton’s own words, he’s going to be the “other poor dumb bastard” an enemy soldier makes “die for his country.” Plus his fellow soldiers can’t rely on him.) Worse, Patton seems to expect this soldier to die in battle. He says that he deserves death as punishment for his cowardice. I was stunned that someone with Patton’s military experience would behave that way and shocked that the Army would allow it.
But guess what? My daughter and I were not the only ones shocked and dismayed by Patton’s conduct here. The general is severely censured for his actions, and this becomes a turning point in his entire career.
I find it quite interesting that the movie choses to focus on this particular act of violence. It’s quite something when the film is about WWII, and the central act of violence is a general striking a soldier in his own army.
Best Scene:
This movie is called Patton, and every single scene gives us Patton, Patton, and more Patton. So there are no bad scenes.
My favorite episode in the film, however, comes when Patton summons the chaplain and demands he write a “weather prayer,” asking God to keep the skies clear, so they can get some air cover.
“Why doesn’t he write the prayer himself?” my daughter wondered.
“Because it’s the chaplain’s job,” I replied. “Everyone must do his task. That’s how he thinks.”
Then later, he exclaims that he’ll have the chaplain decorated because the prayer worked. He means it!
I’m a person of faith myself, and I certainly see nothing wrong with asking God for help in desperate circumstances. Also, while it’s weird to think that God would take sides in a war, it’s hard to imagine that he wouldn’t be against the Nazis!
But Patton’s grizzled earnestness when he first demands the war prayer, then insists the chaplain get decorated for the good results really tells us everything we need to know about the man. It’s one of the Pattonest things Patton has ever done. He’s almost cartoonish in his earnest insistence that the chaplain be decorated. He’s like a sketch comedian doing an impression of himself.
Imagine if the movie Airplane! weren’t a zany parody of disaster films. He has the exact same grizzled intensity of many characters in that film–only for Patton, it is not a joke.
Also, this episode of the war prayer happens within the most exciting part of the film when Patton’s Third Army accomplishes something conspicuously heroic.
Best Scene Visually:
Visually, this movie leaves an impression. Patton usually ends up in the most opulent headquarters imaginable. He’s almost always staying in gilded palaces by all appearances fit for a Roman emperor. For the audience, this serves as an eternal reminder of his belief in reincarnation (specifically that he fought in consequential battles throughout history). It also shows what a gulf separates him from everyone else. He is a character. He stands out from a crowd. This separation is especially pronounced in his “apology” scene.
Many stark images of the ravages of battle combined with the harsh beauty of nature stand out, too. There’s one particularly eye-catching shot of a dead body lying in the snow, and we follow its line all the way up to a tank.
Two similar battle field scenes also make an impression visually while revealing something to us about Patton. In one early scene, the general is led (allegedly by his intuition) to the ruins of an ancient battle. Later on, he happens across a battle that has just taken place the night before. What he says in these scenes reveals a lot about him, but we get a strong impression from how these similar moments work visually, too.
The Negatives:
My biggest complaint about the film is that despite hearing Patton’s own words, seeing him in action, and listening to what the Germans say about him, we still learn nothing about his early life and nothing about his death.
The film focuses entirely on what Patton does during World War II. And that’s fine. Keeping a tight focus isn’t a problem. I just found myself at the end of the film wanting to know so much more.
What went on in Patton’s childhood? I wish the Nazi profiler had told us a bit about this. If we peek into his past, will we find hints about where this horror of cowardice arose from? Or are we to believe that the answer lies in the far, far distant past, that Patton really has been reincarnated multiple times, always as a great soldier in battle? I wanted more information about that, too. I wanted more details. The movie gives the vibe that Patton is some kind of mystical warrior who lives again only when needed and dies (to be reborn) after the battle is over. But when my daughter Googled him after the movie, we discovered that (although he died in a car accident later in 1945), his death wasn’t exactly peaceful. Conspiracy theories suggesting that he was murdered by the CIA (or by someone else) abound. (Obviously in 1945, it wouldn’t have been called the CIA.) I wish the movie had given us some more information about Patton’s early life and how he met his end instead of leaning into his own self-proclaimed myth that he was some pure spirit of war being born again and again when needed. (I would have liked to hear more about his reincarnation, too.)
The movie’s lack of interest in these things seems like a limitation to me, but what is there is extremely well done. I can see why fans of military history and strategy love this movie.
Overall:
Patton is definitely worth seeing whether or not you like war movies. (It’s more character study than war movie, to be honest.) George C. Scott’s memorable turn as the larger-than-life general is deservedly Oscar winning. I knew almost nothing about Patton before this, but the film has left me genuinely curious about his life (or lives?) and his mysterious death.