As one of the team that runs The Fleapit Cinema Club in Westerham, Kent we have got to know writer/director Ian Vernon well. To date, we have screened three of his films including The War I Knew which was the second showing at our recent UK Independent Film Festival. All three have been extremely well received by our audiences. The dismissive reviews, or rather their tone, are therefore at odds with the response of over 100 people.
True independent films often have to look through the other end of the telescope and their joy and incidental purpose is to offer a counter-perspective to blockbuster spectacle. So I will not patronise either Ian or his film by evoking the no-money argument, too often used to justify independent films. While a tight budget (and they don't come tighter than his) can explain the necessity of a certain historical laissez faire when it comes to, say, props and costume, it can never excuse either a poor script or poor acting. So, yes, the uniforms and guns in The War I Knew are not exactly right. If you really want to be picky, some don't even fit – and the guns don't fire. Nor was it shot in France anymore than Star Wars was shot in a galaxy far, far away. But does any of this matter? Of course not – it's a feature film, not a documentary. Besides, these inaccuracies compromise neither the emotional truth of the piece (its great achievement), nor our understanding of its narrative. Are we ever in doubt as to who is English, French or German? But what of the stuff that actually matters? Well, if assessed objectively, the script emerges as crisp, engaging and textured; the story undoubtedly compelling and the acting forceful yet nuanced. When you watch it, look into the actors' eyes, not down at their belt buckles. Do that and you'll find a rewardingly original and revealing take on what happens when people are sent to war.
Of course, you may not like it but I know enough people who do to recommend it. Watching any film is a gamble and no film is ever enjoyed by everyone but just because you don't like broccoli, doesn't make it a bad vegetable.
True independent films often have to look through the other end of the telescope and their joy and incidental purpose is to offer a counter-perspective to blockbuster spectacle. So I will not patronise either Ian or his film by evoking the no-money argument, too often used to justify independent films. While a tight budget (and they don't come tighter than his) can explain the necessity of a certain historical laissez faire when it comes to, say, props and costume, it can never excuse either a poor script or poor acting. So, yes, the uniforms and guns in The War I Knew are not exactly right. If you really want to be picky, some don't even fit – and the guns don't fire. Nor was it shot in France anymore than Star Wars was shot in a galaxy far, far away. But does any of this matter? Of course not – it's a feature film, not a documentary. Besides, these inaccuracies compromise neither the emotional truth of the piece (its great achievement), nor our understanding of its narrative. Are we ever in doubt as to who is English, French or German? But what of the stuff that actually matters? Well, if assessed objectively, the script emerges as crisp, engaging and textured; the story undoubtedly compelling and the acting forceful yet nuanced. When you watch it, look into the actors' eyes, not down at their belt buckles. Do that and you'll find a rewardingly original and revealing take on what happens when people are sent to war.
Of course, you may not like it but I know enough people who do to recommend it. Watching any film is a gamble and no film is ever enjoyed by everyone but just because you don't like broccoli, doesn't make it a bad vegetable.