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Non-fiction and essays

University essays

American Studies
Second Year

Film and History 303 - Short Papers

Short Paper One (AMST 303, Autumn 2002)

Invention has long been a part of the movie-making business, but it is in historical film that this idea can
cause controversy. There are limits to the extent that people will accept what is portrayed on screen and what
is written in documented history. The fact that written history may be no more true to life than film does not
register with many people, as it seems to be films that come under a greater degree of criticism.
An example of the way in which a movie suffers due to lack of historical accuracy, is the treatment of “The
Patriot” as reported by Kevin Phillips in his review for the LA Times. He refers to the lack of success the movie
enjoyed at the box-office, and suggests that this failure is related to several instances of factual error and
invention.
One way in which historical movies play with history is in the creation of fictional characters from parts of real
people. In the case of “The Patriot” this is the central hero of Benjamin Martin, as portrayed by Mel Gibson.
Phillips recounts how Martin is assembled from the histories of various South Carolinians who participated
to the Revolutionary War effort. The reason for this is that by combining the more appealing aspects from
various sources, the filmmakers have a character that is capable of being both a hardened war veteran, but
also a gentle family man, therefore deserving of more audience empathy. The invention in the movie is not
limited to characters, for it can also be seen in the combination of real events, such as in the climactic battle
scene at the end, where it is exploited for dramatic effect.
Phillips does not appear to have too much of a problem with this sort of dramatic invention however, for it is
the depiction of the British that causes him greater consternation, as it did for the British people. With a hero
clearly fighting for the colonial militia, it helps to have an identifiable ‘bad guy’, which is amply provided in the
bright red coats of the British. Phillips describes how the loyalists fighting probably wore a very similar outfit to
that of the rebels, and indeed, many were Americans. Possibly keen not to confuse the viewing public, who
might be unable to differentiate between two similarly dressed forces both speaking in American accents, the
filmmakers deliberately use clearly distinguishable enemies.
This point is carried further by Phillip in his discussion of the portrayal of the leader of the British Dragoons,
Colonel Tavington, who appears to have been loosely based on Lt Colonel Banastre Tarleton. Though he
had a reputation for his ‘spirited participation’ in the revolutionary war, some of the more outrageous acts
shown in the film never took place, and Phillips suggest that this slight on his character is to create a more
definite bad guy, to play opposite Gibson’s reluctant hero. All of these tactics of invention are aimed at
creating a more dynamic story, albeit at the expense of aspects of the truth.
Phillips concludes, however, by suggesting the inclusion of other real events from the period would have
made the story not only more authentic, but also more appealing to the viewer. Part of this is in response to
what he calls the ‘most egregious portrait’ in “The Patriot” – the representation of African-Americans. While
there is a slave fighting with the militia, something that did not occur, Phillips complains that they did fight in
the navy of South Carolina, and fulfilled other roles to help the war effort, none of which is represented in the
film. He suggests that if “The Patriot” had paid more attention to the historical facts, then it would have been
better received.
This is in stark contrast to the reception of ‘Bonnie and Clyde’, as discussed by Nancy F Cott and Robert
Toplin. Both comment on the lack of accuracy in the events depicted on screen and how the main characters
were portrayed very differently from how they were described at the time. Yet despite these objections, there is
no denial of the fact that the film was a phenomenal success on its release in 1967. So does this mean that
a film with only a vague relation to the truth can be more successful than one created with the historical
advice of the Smithsonian, such as “The Patriot”? It is suggested by both Toplin and Cott that there was
another factor at play, in this instance, the film was playing to the times, with heroes (or possibly anti-heroes)
that the youth counterculture could identify with. While clearly attempting to recreate the world of 1930s
America, the characters were firmly rooted in contemporary society, thus demonstrating that it is not simply a
matter of historical accuracy.
While both “The Patriot” and “Bonnie and Clyde” suffered at the hands of the critics for their creativity with
history, the films enjoyed very different success at the box office. Clearly there is more to the reception of film
than simply the ways in which filmmakers invent history for their own storytelling benefit. It can also be a
question of the relevance to the times, which, as in the case of “Bonnie and Clyde” can turn a fairly inaccurate
portrait of two infamous characters into a motion picture that resonates with a generation of moviegoers.

Sources used:
“Bonnie and Clyde”, Nancy F. Cott in Past Imperfect
“Bonnie and Clyde”, Robert Brent Toplin in Film and History
“The Patriot’s Skirmish with Truth”, Kevin Phillips in Film and History
“The Patriot Stirs More Anger in Britain”, New Bern Sun Journal in Film and History

Short Paper Two: Patton – American hero or arrogant Anachronism? (AMST 303, Autumn 2002)

When the name of Patton is first mentioned in the film, one officer turns to the other and utters “God help us”,
for this is a general whose reputation precedes him. After watching this film for the first time, it seems the
same can be said for this representation of the WWII hero. George C. Scott’s performance, as Paul Fussell
discusses in Past Imperfect, is so memorable that the film ‘is likely to become the whole key, or at least an
indispensable element, in the interpretation of Patton’. The fact that Patton’s own grandson said watching the
film made his grandfather more real suggests the power of the picture to create an image of Patton not easily
forgotten. However, the question is raised by Robert Toplin of just what image of Patton the audience is left
with. He suggests in his chapter on “Patton” in History by Hollywood, that possibly due to the time of release
coinciding with anti-Vietnam War sentiment, the film is like a Rorschach test enabling viewers to ‘read their
own messages into the multidimensional story about a complex figure from history’.
From the outset of the film, the viewer is shown the heroic, rip-roaring side of Patton, with the famous speech
in front of the giant American flag. Though, as pointed out by Fussell, there are several inaccuracies in the
depiction of Patton in this scene, such as his rank, it presents the audience with an inspiring figure. This
inspirations is seen repeatedly throughout the movie, as Patton sweeps across Africa, Sicily and finally
Europe. However, thanks in part to Scott’s portrayal, and also the inclusion of several key scenes, the movie
does not simply become a tale about Patton’s victories, and remains arguably as complex a portrait of an
historical figure as any produced by Hollywood.
There are references to Patton not existing in the right era, so that he can recall ancient battlefields and
poems because he was there himself. This anachronistic representation cast doubts over his sanity for the
viewer, raising questions over how much of a hero he really was. In conjunction with this is the Germans’
respectful, almost reverent attitude towards him, a “pure warrior”, which lends weight to Toplin’s description
of him as “a sixteenth-century man trying to live in the twentieth-century”. However it is the infamous soldier-
slapping incident that really brings a much darker side to the depiction of Patton. Leading up to the moment
in the first aid post where he strikes a man for refusing to fight, there are shots of his men, looking at Patton
with sheer contempt, and the culmination of these events is his humiliating public apology and his removal
from command.
While his military redemption comes through the heroics of his Third Army in Europe, it seems that there are
moments removed from battle where the viewer sees a very human side to Patton, which is quite unexpected.
As Toplin points out the fact that just prior to striking the soldier he is whispering in the ear of another man,
this one heavily bandaged and dying, points to a much more tender side of his character. This dichotomy is
never completely resolved and it is really left to the viewer to decide on how exactly they wish to interpret
Patton. Other such incidents that complicate the portrayal include Patton addressing the people of Corsica in
French and his prayer for good weather during the Battle of the Bulge. While it is hard for these to completely
erase the memories of the arrogant, insensitive man who launches many tirades against his subordinate
officers, and who throws troops into battle with no apparent regard for their lives, they create a more three-
dimensional, complex character.
The film follows the path of Patton’s rise due to his military brilliance, followed by a fall because of his
personal arrogance, and the final portion on the battlefields of Europe is mainly concerned with his
redemption as a commander, though possibly not as a man. Approaching the end of the picture, there is a
particularly memorable moment when Patton asks permission to attack the Russians. It seems that this
could be interpreted as either greatly prescient or just simply a lust for further battle, but either way, it serves
as one last opportunity for the audience to question his character. No matter how great his exploits, one
wonders if he does indeed belong in another century. How much of this is due to the real Patton and how
much because of the film is hard to say, but it seems that many will remember the man as George C. Scott,
not George S. Patton.

Short Paper Three: Das Boot – Submarine Reality (AMST 303, Autumn 2002)

Wolfgang Petersen’s Das Boot could be used as a model for Hollywood filmmakers on how to create a
realistic World War Two picture. Coming nearly twenty years before Saving Private Ryan, this grim and dirty
depiction of U-boat warfare virtually places the viewer inside a German submarine, and the audience feels
every wave, every explosion and at least some of the tension that the sailors must have felt. In its unerring
realization of not only the conditions the men had to live through, but also some of the stress they were under,
it is perhaps as close as a non-submariner can get to knowing what life under the waves in wartime was
really like. Based in part on the account of a German U-boat commander, it is possible to draw comparisons
with the accounts described in numerous other books on U-boat warfare.
The first aspect one notices as a viewer is the conditions onboard a U-boat. The audience is confronted with
cramped gangways, low ceilings, provisions stashed away in virtually every available space, and the crew not
being able to move about without bumping into their shipmates. This leads to an increasing sense of
claustrophobia that while ameliorated by brief periods on the bridge above deck, never really leaves the
viewer until the credits roll. In his book Iron Coffins, Herbert Werner describes his first time on board, by
saying he would have to “duck my head, walk softly, and ride with the boat or I would not survive one day in the
tube.” The constant ducking under bulkheads is clearly seen from the outset in the movie, as is the damp and
humid conditions the sailors live with, another aspect affirmed by Werner’s account.
In his book U-boats: The Secret Menace, David Mason refers to the importance of sound in a submariner’s
life, and this is effectively realized in Das Boot. There seems to be a stark contrast between the loud, even
boisterous nature of the crew when they are sailing on the surface to the ominous quiet when submerged.
There they wait for sounds of enemy ships, depth charges, and the dreaded ‘ping’ of the Allied ASDIC
tracking device. Sound seems to matter more to a submariner than to anyone else, and all those
submariners who have written about their experience make more than a passing reference to its role. On
watching the film, the viewer gets to experience the same feelings of nervous anticipation when the pings get
louder and faster, another example of the realistic nature of the movie.
One of the ways in which the film differs from a Hollywood interpretation is the waiting involved. Whereas
keeping the story moving is an important part of any picture, Das Boot does not sacrifice this important aspect
of a U-boat crew’s life while onboard. Jochen Brennecke in The Hunters and the Hunted refers to “the eternal
monotony of cruising up and down, searching and searching.” This is represented well in Das Boot as there
are long stretches with the crew sitting around, almost bored while the captain and officers wait for orders,
followed by brief periods of intense dramatic action.
It would be fairly safe to classify the picture as an anti-war movie. This is in part because of the dirty nature of
the ship, the unkempt, unshaven crew and the monotony of life at sea. On watching the film, the viewer gets to
see that this is what war could actually be like, without the romanticized heroism. This is further shown in the
terrifying spectacle of being trapped under water, barely able to breath with the ship unable to move. However,
another aspect to consider is in the sailors’ attitude to their superiors, which at the best is bordering on
contempt. As Brennecke describes in his book, U-boat effectiveness depended a great deal on the situation
in the higher command of the German navy. Without sufficient supplies and well designed strategies, it
became extremely difficult for the U-boat crews to fight effectively. The film depicts a crew that has had
success in the past, but is on the downward slope, lacking faith in Hitler and their superiors, and wondering
whether this voyage will be their last.
There are many aspects to Das Boot that separate it from standard submarine pictures, such as the anti-war
ethos and the gritty realism involved. Another is that there is very little heroism involved, at least not of the kind
demonstrated in more gung-ho patriotic war films. Instead it focuses more on the camaraderie and personal
bravery of the crew. In his foreword to Werner’s book, an American submariner declares “the story is written
without heroics. It can be fully appreciated only by another submariner of the war, but anyone can get the
message.” Das Boot is perhaps the closest a film has come to deserving such a seal of approval.

Short Paper Four: Santa Fe Trail – An Alternative look at the Civil War (AMST 303, Autumn 2002)

For a student unfamiliar with the background of the American Civil War, after watching Santa Fe Trail, they
might be forgiven for thinking it was all started by a fire-breathing, wild-eyed troublemaker named John
Brown. While it is true that the Abolitionist John Brown was a key figure in the antebellum period, it is wishful
Hollywood thinking to lay the blame solely on his raids in “Bleeding Kansas” in the 1850s. However, this
portrayal is far from the only misrepresentation in the movie, which can be seen as a catalogue of factual
errors. It is possible that the filmmakers sacrificed aspects of the history of the time in order to tell a more
dramatic story, however, it is also possible that the film is merely giving voice to some of the commonly held
scholarly views of the 1930s and 40s.
From the outset of the film, it is clear that John Brown is the villain. After the reading of some of his writings in
the West Point Barracks, one of Brown’s lackeys, a fictional character called Raider stirs the assembled
class into a fight. This incident is designed to play on the different views of the Northerners and Southerners,
who just happen to include some of the Civil War’s most famous generals, a complete fabrication, but
necessary to add drama and interest to the story. When Brown finally appears on screen, his villain’s
persona is added to, complete with traditional early Hollywood villain music. Also apparent is his obsession
with seeing the Union torn apart and remade into a land without the stain of slavery.
The issue of slavery itself in the movie can cause some problems for today’s historians. The Southerners,
led by Errol Flynn as JEB Stuart repeatedly say they will sort out slavery by themselves, as long as they are
given time. He also says that it is not up to the military or John Brown to decide what is right for the nation, but
some of the Northern generals are not convinced, including Ronald Reagan’s George Armstrong Custer.
However, while they disagree on slavery, when the mystical Indian woman (another classic Hollywood
device) foresees that the classmates will be on opposite sides of a great conflict, they laugh at the prospect.
Clearly they do not want war, but with people such as John Brown operating, they may be inevitably drawn into
conflict. The romanticizing of the South as a land of gentlemen, as exemplified by the dashing heroism of
Stuart was a common feature of the films of this period.
In his essay on Santa Fe Trail Larry J Easley examines how films such as this, and others including Gone
with the Wind, gave an indication of how the public thought of the Civil War period. In the gentleman and
ladies of the South, living luxuriously in their lavish homes, the public could seek some form of escape from
the hard times of the Depression years. He ascribes this to the South of novels, not of historians, and the use
of popular assumptions for the causation of the conflict. He concludes by saying that is important to look
beyond the “visual veneer of weapons, music and dress styles” to look at the “underlying thesis,
contemporary popular attitudes, and historical scholarship at the time of release.” This reminds the viewer
that the film was a product of its time, and should be studied in such a way. The treatment of slavery is a good
indication of how contemporary thought influences filmmakers.
Looking back on the institution of slavery, after the influence of the Civil Rights Movement and revisionist
history, it is hard to believe that any historian could see any positive aspects of slavery. However, as this film
suggests, there were times when slavery was seen as merely unfortunate and regrettable. The freed slaves
in Santa Fe Trail seem cartoonish, unable to think for themselves, and most surprisingly for a twenty-first
century audience, wishing to return to their masters. At one point, one slave mentions that he “just wants to
go back to Texas and sit,” and as Easley points out, while the Virginian JEB Stuart cares for the slaves in a
burning barn, the supposed Abolitionist John Brown merely uses them for his own ends. This reflects
attitudes at the time of release that while slavery was not good, the South, if given enough time and not
interfered with by the North, could have ended it by themselves.
Coming in the age of the Western, it is easy to see how Santa Fe Trail could be so messy with history, a
common complaint of the genre. It represents a different time, and a corresponding difference in attitude to a
controversial subject. The movie is less concerned with historical accuracy and more interested in what
Graham Fuller describes as the “blend of action, excitement, romance and poetry” that captivated audiences
for the early part of Hollywood history. With all its faults, the viewer must remember the context of historical
thought at the time of release and judge the movie accordingly.

Short Paper Five: Ride with the Devil – Historically accurate, dramatically flat? (AMST 303, Autumn 2002)

While Ride with the Devil received praise from historians and critics for its representation of the border
skirmishes in Missouri and Kansas during the Civil War, it came under criticism for a lack of dramatic
tension. In Reel History Toplin argued that this was because the film violated the rules of Hollywood
storytelling, and in straying too far from established genre, fell flat. The criticism seemed to be justified in the
relatively poor showing of the film in cinemas, and it descended into relative obscurity. This failure is
unfortunate for a film that treats a complicated and turbulent period in history with intelligence and sensitivity,
while attempting to shed light on a largely unknown aspect of a well-documented period in American history.
In defense of Ride with the Devil, it helps to focus on the positive aspects of its treatment of history, and the
differences between this film and other films about the Civil War. While large armies clashed in battles in the
East, in Missouri and Kansas, the conflict was very different. As described in the title at the beginning of the
movie, the pro-Confederacy Bushwhackers from Missouri fought not only the Union soldiers sent to pacify the
area, but also pro-Union Jayhawkers from neighboring Kansas. For the characters in the film, it is not the
politics of the Confederacy or the Union which determines people’s loyalty, but rather personal ties of
friendship and vengeance.
In a series of articles in the Kansas City Star, Robert W Butler praised the film for not trying to simplify the
complex reasons as to why the characters were fighting. For example, some had lost family members to
raids from one side, and had joined up with the other side to avenge their deaths. This can be seen in the
case of Jack Bull Childs, who watches helplessly as his father is killed by Jayhawkers, and subsequently
joins up with the Bushwhackers. His friend Jake Roedel goes against his father’s wishes and sides with the
Confederacy, more through personal loyalty to Jack Bull rather than because of pro-Southern attitude, or a
wish to perpetuate slavery. Indeed, after Jack Bull’s death, a former slave becomes Jake’s closest friend.
The inclusion of the character of a former slave, Daniel Holt, provides some provocative moments in the film.
However, in keeping with the movie’s historical accuracy, this is not simply a plot device to cause conflict, but
is instead based on historical accounts of the period, as noted by Butler in his reviews. This portrayal of Civil
War era blacks is far removed from the docile, master-loving slaves depicted in earlier films such as the
Santa Fe Trail. Holt thinks about his mother, still a slave, and after finally realizing he has no more ties to
keep him in Missouri, decides to seek her out somewhere in Texas and buy her freedom.
The recreation of the era of the Civil War in Ride with the Devil was also praised in reviews, for the attention to
detail in clothes, buildings and weapons. From the wedding that opens the movie, complete with billowing
dresses, horses and barns, to the ride through town on a covered wagon near the end of the film, the viewer
has a sense that they are watching what 1860s Missouri and Kansas was like. In the film’s most dramatic
sequence, the filmmakers recreated Lawrence, Kansas, where a large force of Bushwhackers massacres
the male population of the town. From the soldiers’ tents to the interior of a café, the authenticity is
commendable, and deserving of the favorable response of many reviewers.
However, despite all the commendable historical qualities of Ride with the Devil, reviewers were not
impressed by the dramatic qualities of the film. Stephen Holden of the New York Times said that the movie
was “visually arresting” but “dramatically flat” and this was sentiment echoed by Desson Howe of the
Washington Post who complained that war is worse when it is not entertaining. The film is lacking in real
drama and tension, for while there are exciting episodes, they are spread rather thinly amid long periods of
waiting and talking. While it is true that this is a truer reflection of what it was like to fight in the war, this lack of
action would tend to put off many viewers. Another failing is in the ending, which seems to fade away over half
an hour, rather than rising to a dramatic climax. The movie also lacks in characterizing clear heroes and
villains, for while the character of Jake Roedel gradually emerges as the protagonist, there are villains on
both sides of the fighting. If audience sympathy lies with anyone involved, it is for the civilians caught up in
trying to survive, and at risk from attack by both sides.
Ride with the Devil is clearly dramatically flawed, but praiseworthy in terms of historical complexity and
verisimilitude. This is an unfortunate combination, as many people could watch the film and learn about the
Missouri-Kansas border conflict during the Civil War, but might be put off by the lack of drama. It appears that
this relatively unknown part of the War will remain a mystery to many, unless they are prepared to look past
the dramatic flaws and appreciate the historical quality of the movie.

Non-fiction

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