THE GREAT ESCAPE (1963)

War has rarely been depicted as fun as it was in John Sturges’s The Great Escape. Even the title has adventurous connotations, and the tone of this classic World War II piece matches those expectations to a tee. However, while the story’s surprising degree of levity is precisely what has earned it a reputation as a fan favourite, even being cited as men’s favourite Christmas film (and no, I can’t really see the connection there either), it is this same uncompromisingly cheery and light-hearted mood that ultimately undermines the film’s emotional heft.

I remember being confused when I first watched Sturges’s critically acclaimed epic. In my mid-teens, I felt like the film was massively underwhelming; our characters felt shallow, and their fates were relatively glossed over. In re-watching this much-beloved classic, I’ll readily admit that I enjoyed it much more the second time around. However, I’m still more than a little confused.

Specifically, what tone was Sturges trying to achieve in The Great Escape? For the majority of the film’s 172-minute runtime, the atmosphere is unserious, lackadaisical, and quite fun. All the frivolous joking belies the tragic subject at the centre of our narrative: prisoners of war trying desperately to obtain their freedom. Historical inaccuracies aside, this is perhaps the only aspect of the story that Sturges needed to portray sincerely. War isn’t (and has never been) fun, and the persistently jovial mood that permeates The Great Escape undercuts any sense of sorrow that our director occasionally tries to employ.

This is evident from the very beginning: as our POWs are carted into the ultimate internment camp, headed by a stern, yet respectful Luftwaffe Colonel von Luger (Hannes Messemer), they are boyishly undaunted by their fates. In fact, almost all of them wear cheeky grins on their faces; it doesn’t quite feel like they’re in a POW camp, but naughty schoolboys being herded off to detention. Draped in leather jackets or fashionable wool coats, these men are soon revealed to be our phlegmatic and unexcitable heroes. The American POWs are the picture of cool, whereas their British counterparts are the epitome of sophistication.

The story often feels comparable to myth: all our characters are crowd-pleasing archetypes, with each and every one of them utterly devoid of flaws. One could make comparisons to Homer’s The Odyssey (men striving to return home from war are faced with numerous hurdles), but that epic poem feels very different tonally. It could be because no one has ever read Homer with Elmer Bernstein’s iconic score playing in the background. A theme song as cheery as it is triumphant, it’s rebelliously merry, framing their gleefully boisterous behaviour as the natural resistance of eager troublemakers.

What’s more, our primary antagonist in Colonel von Luger is rather toothless, never punishing our heroes more than sending them to solitary confinement. Whenever the irreverent Captain Virgil Hilts (Steve McQueen) is banished to the cooler, he maintains a bold swagger to demonstrate his spirit won’t be extinguished. He even retorts to the headmaster (I mean, war camp Commandant): “You’ll still be here when I get out, won’t you?”

Consequently, the stakes rarely feel all that high, and situational conflict is dampened. Tragedy does occasionally strike, but it’s almost immediately diminished by a return to buoyant joking and hijinks. We aren’t given space to contemplate how war makes people do terrible things, nor question just what it is that causes us to commit such heinous acts, as in Lifeboat (1944), Apocalypse Now (1979), or The Thin Red Line (1998). Furthermore, we are shown that the grim realities of war won’t affect our protagonists moving forward: unlike the sombre, mournful ending of The Deer Hunter (1978) or the mercilessly bleak denouement to Das Boot (1981), the ending here is happy-go-lucky.

Three years earlier, John Sturges directed The Magnificent Seven (1960), a direct remake of Akira Kurosawa’s superlative Seven Samurai (1954). However, it’s clear that Sturges failed to appreciate why the Japanese auteur’s epic jidaigeki remains so impactful, even after seventy years. Our heroes, valiant though they may be, are three-dimensional characters who suffer the anguish of loss; they understand that a Pyrrhic victory is no real victory at all. The heroes of that action masterpiece ruminate on all they have endured, and it’s made apparent to the audience that great bravery often comes at a great cost.

Here, the daring endeavours and the audacious schemes similarly result in devastating consequences, but we’re never given time to grieve for the fallen. While the film is dedicated to the men who died in the escape, the film itself brushes their sacrifice under the carpet. Any prayers that might have been said for them are drowned out by the ceaseless whistling of Bernstein’s theme. And it only feels as though Sturges believes it’s sweet and proper to die for one’s country, with none of our main characters so much as pausing to mourn. Instead, it’s onto the next plan, with McQueen resolutely knocking his baseball about the walls of the cooler, unbroken and undeterred.

The Great Escape is simply that: an escape from the realism that normally defines these gritty war spectacles. Both escape films (and their diametrically opposed counterpart, the heist movie) become enjoyable as we watch our heroes devise ostensibly brilliant methods to guarantee success. Much of the film’s plot feels like boys playing with their toys, and it’s probably for this reason The Great Escape ranks as men’s favourite movie to watch over the Christmas holidays.

Truthfully, if you distance yourself from the abject horrors committed during the Second World War, The Great Escape does make for entertaining viewing. As Group Captain Ramsey (James Donald) informs von Luger: “It’s the sworn duty of all officers to try and escape.” Themes of honour, defiance, and loyalty to one’s team and country already permeate from the opening conversation. The situation is established by von Luger: all the rotten eggs are in one basket, and our heroes are going to make sure the basket is broken wide open. Watching our team overcome the problems facing them is engaging, even if it’s never quite suspenseful or emotionally resonant.

Sturges is aided by the ensemble of capable performers who deliver memorable showings, even if they aren’t always entirely believable. Richard Attenborough’s theatrical poise is well-suited to the part of Squadron Leader Roger Bartlett, and Steve McQueen’s smug grin reveals him to be the maverick of the camp. Meanwhile, the granite-chinned James Garner and softly spoken Donald Pleasence forge an unlikely friendship that becomes touching in parts.

However, it’s arguably Charles Bronson who delivers the only performance that feels authentic, as a tunneller who’s terrified of confined spaces. When his comrade points out the irony, saying it’s ludicrous he be claustrophobic after having dug 17 escape tunnels, Danny erupts: “Because I must get out! I hide the fear, and I dig! But tomorrow night in the tunnel with all those men… I’m afraid maybe this time I will lose my head and ruin the escape for everybody.” And it’s in one man’s trauma and dream for escape that the story suddenly finds heart and drama.

USA | 1963 | 172 MINUTES | 2.35:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • GERMAN • FRENCH • RUSSIAN • SPANISH

3-Disc Limited Edition Blu-ray Special Features:

While the story itself may have its shortcomings, Arrow Video’s new Blu-ray disc-set (also available on 4K Ultra HD) at least provides a beautiful restoration to this classic work. The colours are vibrant, practically jumping off the screen. The picture is so commendable that you’d barely recognise this film is over 60 years old, yet it still maintains the charmingly quaint aura that makes some films feel so timeless. Furthermore, the DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround sound is crisp, clear, and serves to bring you right into the storyworld, even if the director’s approach to the mood does not.

For those who are diehard fans of this classic work, there are a plethora of bonus features that surely wouldn’t want to miss. These include interviews with Guy Walters and Jose Arroyo, the former being a historian who separates the fact from the fiction, with the latter being a Professor in Film and Television Studies, who voices his appreciation for this slice of cinema. If you’re like me, reading or listening to people’s opinions on film can be just as pleasurable as watching one, and it’s just the case here with Walters and Arroyo. Other great bonus features include an exploration of The Great Escape‘s position in war cinema, courtesy of esteemed educator and critic Rich Johnson.

With this in mind, the cultural status of The Great Escape is impossible to ignore. Even if it neglects to dedicate sufficient screen-time to the inner turmoil and despair war engenders in those involved, The Great Escape remains a diverting piece of cinema. It never comes close to reaching the dramatic heights of other classic war films, nor does it provide the meditative tone or introspective air that the subject demands of it. However, it’s technically well-made, and if you like your war films with all the gallantry and none of the misery, then you’ll struggle to do better than The Great Escape.

• Limited Edition packaging with reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Sam Hadley.
• Collector’s booklet featuring new writing by Barry Forshaw, Neil Mitchell, Wickham Clayton and Mark Cunliffe.
• Fold-out double-sided poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Sam Hadley.

Disc 1: The Great Escape

• High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) presentation.
• Newly restored original lossless mono soundtrack.
• Optional lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 soundtrack.
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing.
• Audio commentary by filmmaker/historian Steve Mitchell and Steven Jay Rubin, author of Combat Films: American Realism.
• Audio commentary featuring director John Sturges and members of the cast and crew, moderated by Steven Jay Rubin.
• Theatrical trailer.

Disc 2: Bonus Features

• The Real Great Escape—author and historian Guy Walters separates fact from fiction in this brand new interview.
• The Great Escapism—brand new appreciation of the film by Jose Arroyo, Associate Professor in Film and Television Studies at the University of Warwick.
• The Great Composer—brand new interview with composer/author Neil Brand, discussing Elmer Bernstein and his iconic score.
• Freedom Forged—critic and educator Rich Johnson explores the film’s place within the war movie canon in this brand new visual essay.
• Michael Sragow on The Great Escape—2020 interview exploring the career of John Sturges and the making of the film.
• Heroes Underground—2001 four-part documentary exploring the making of the film and the events which inspired it, featuring interviews with former POWs.
• The Real Virgil Hilts—01 featurette interviewing former POW David M. Jones, widely seen as the inspiration for Steve McQueen’s character.
• The Untold Story—2001 documentary exploring the planning and execution of the real-life escape.
• The Untold Story: Additional Interviews.
• Return to The Great Escape—1993 featurette exploring the making of the film.
• Image gallery.

Disc 3: The Great Escape II—The Untold Story of [LIMITED EDITION EXCLUSIVE]

• High Definition Blu-ray™ (1080p) presentation.
• Original lossless 2.0 stereo soundtrack.
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing.
• Original Trailer.

Cast & Crew

director: John Sturges.
writer: James Clavell & W.R Burnett (based on the book by Paul Brickhill.)
starring: Steve McQueen, James Garner, Richard Attenborough, James Donald, Charles Bronson, Donald Pleasence & James Coburn.