In the early 50s, Audie Murphy and his ghost writer published a book of Murphy's unbelievable exploits in Italy, France, and Germany during World War II. Murphy, still in his teens, won about every decoration for valor that the human mind can dream up -- and he earned them too. The experience wrecked him. He made movies later in his life, always boyish looking and modest sounding. But he suffered from PTSD. He was tormented by nightmares of firing an M-1 at attacking Germans and having his rifle fall apart, piece by piece. He slept with a Colt pistol under his pillow and attacked another man with a baseball bat. His many medals were stashed in disarray in a drawer. He died in a plane crash.
Hollywood has taken this man's remarkable story, lifting pieces of it from his memoirs, left out the most poignant passages and twisted Murphy's remaining heroics into pablum. An example of what I mean. In the book, written in the present tense, Murphy describes his first encounter with the enemy and sees one of his targets fall. "Now I have killed," he writes, and goes on to explain his emotions.
No room for any such ruminations in the movie. We see Murphy rejected by the other services for being too young or too short. In the Third Infantry Division he is ridiculed in a good-natured way by the usual stereotypes from other war movies -- the guy who brags about his sexual exploits, the stoic Indian, the ambitious Pole, the reckless good friend. The musical score suits the film: a high school marching band plays "On Wisconsin" or something.
Murphy's achievements provide a peg to hang a formulaic war movie on. No cliché is avoided. On leave at last with his fellow troopers in Rome, they all head off to get drunk and get laid, leaving the bashful hero behind. The shy Murphy winds up spending the night with an accommodating young woman while the others are either satisfied with finding someone to talk to or find themselves in some other sort of dead end. The next morning all the men brag about their conquests while the reticent Murphy says nothing about his night of romance.
The battle scenes are pretty good, though again they fit the Hollywood mold. The writers even are forced -- get this -- they are forced to downplay or skip over Murphy's boldest actions -- because they are UNBELIEVABLE. The guy's military achievements are so extravagant that the writers must have figured no one would believe them, although to be sure, what's left in is heroic enough.
It isn't a bad movie, or rather it wouldn't be if it were fictional from beginning to end. It would just be a standard genre effort from the 1950s, inferior to, say, "Battleground" or "The Story of G. I. Joe." But it pretends to be a true story and it is simply not.
What a tragic waste -- of the rest of what life remained to Murphy, and of an historically accurate narrative that was never told.
Hollywood has taken this man's remarkable story, lifting pieces of it from his memoirs, left out the most poignant passages and twisted Murphy's remaining heroics into pablum. An example of what I mean. In the book, written in the present tense, Murphy describes his first encounter with the enemy and sees one of his targets fall. "Now I have killed," he writes, and goes on to explain his emotions.
No room for any such ruminations in the movie. We see Murphy rejected by the other services for being too young or too short. In the Third Infantry Division he is ridiculed in a good-natured way by the usual stereotypes from other war movies -- the guy who brags about his sexual exploits, the stoic Indian, the ambitious Pole, the reckless good friend. The musical score suits the film: a high school marching band plays "On Wisconsin" or something.
Murphy's achievements provide a peg to hang a formulaic war movie on. No cliché is avoided. On leave at last with his fellow troopers in Rome, they all head off to get drunk and get laid, leaving the bashful hero behind. The shy Murphy winds up spending the night with an accommodating young woman while the others are either satisfied with finding someone to talk to or find themselves in some other sort of dead end. The next morning all the men brag about their conquests while the reticent Murphy says nothing about his night of romance.
The battle scenes are pretty good, though again they fit the Hollywood mold. The writers even are forced -- get this -- they are forced to downplay or skip over Murphy's boldest actions -- because they are UNBELIEVABLE. The guy's military achievements are so extravagant that the writers must have figured no one would believe them, although to be sure, what's left in is heroic enough.
It isn't a bad movie, or rather it wouldn't be if it were fictional from beginning to end. It would just be a standard genre effort from the 1950s, inferior to, say, "Battleground" or "The Story of G. I. Joe." But it pretends to be a true story and it is simply not.
What a tragic waste -- of the rest of what life remained to Murphy, and of an historically accurate narrative that was never told.