‘Tea without milk is so uncivilized...’
In many ways, John Sturges’ The Great Escape is my cinematic white whale. I didn’t watch it when I was a kid at Christmas time like people are supposed to. I didn’t watch it when I first started to explore classic cinema. I didn’t even watch it after including it on this list all those years ago. But now, finally, on the 12th April 2021, I have, with little fanfare, watched The Great Escape. And it was good…
A group of POWs, led by Hilts (Steve McQueen) – known as the Cooler King for the amount of time he spends in solitary confinement – attempt to escape from a German camp during WWII.
The first thing to note here is the difference between a concentration camp and a prisoner of war camp. These men are mostly treated pretty well by their captors, in fact most of it seems like a good laugh if, I’m honest. Whether this is a fair reflection of the most evil regime in human history is up for debate, but it does ensure that The Great Escape never strays too far from being good old time family entertainment.
The second thing to note is that it is definitely too long. While it would be unfair to say that it drags, the absurdly good standard of acting sees to that, it is also true that the whole film feels like a director’s cut, and watching the entire thing in one sitting should only be attempted on a particularly lazy Sunday afternoon. And on the acting, the cast really do carry this thing into the stratosphere, McQueen particularly is the embodiment of cool in a star making role, but all the big names shine right alone with him – Richard Attenborough, James Garner (swoon), even Charles Bronson. The whole cast move and speak like intricate clockwork, not a line of dialogue wasted, not one opportunity missed to inject some gravitas into what is already a weighty story.
It’s easy to see why The Great Escape has endured. It’s a wonderful tale told in a way that has universal appeal. And now I can finally involve myself the next time it comes up in conversation instead of looking off into the middle distance while a single tear rolls down my liar’s cheek. I have made my own great escape from my most glaring cinematic blindspot.
Now, let’s get the soundtrack on and have a little dance, shall we?