Like any mature study of our quixotic
human nature under the extreme pressures of war and irreconcilable
romantic and heroic urges, Enemy at the Gates unravels on many
levels. The battle for Stalingrad, one of the bloodiest victories of the
Allied Forces in World War II, is depicted with graphic boldness that
will remind many of the recent hit Saving Private Ryan. The
viewer, however, should be cautioned. Enemy at the Gates does not
seek glimmers of glory in a man made hell, nor does it draw a clean,
convenient line to separate the good guys from the bad. The central
conflict builds through the will and heart of two cunning adversaries,
both expert marksmen and assassins, who square off in the midst of
horrific carnage as the German and Russian war machines hurl countless
soldiers at each other in order to determine which form of totalitarian
domination will rule the Soviet Union.
The story opens in the torn wreckage of a
city mangled by massive air and ground bombardment, twisting it into a
reeking, steaming tableau of filth, cold, and wretched, rat like hovels.
The hero of the moment is Vassili Zaitsev (Jude Law), who, as a boy,
learned to shoot wolves in the Urals from his shepherd Grandfather.
Kruchev, Stalin, and the entire Soviet nation hang by a thread of hope
woven by Vassili’s daily quarry of German officers. Like any modern
sports or national hero, his fame is spread and manipulated by a canny
political officer, Danilov (Joseph Fiennes), a man who not only
champions but also befriends the charming, achingly handsome, but
somewhat bumbling bumpkin.
Realizing that the Russians are defending
an untenable position only because they are buoyed by hope given to them
by Vassili, the Germans send in Major König (Ed Harris), a master
marksmen who has trained the world’s best. Vassili is challenged not
only by the flawless tactics of a superior marksman, but also by Danilov’s
jealousy of the love Vasilly shares with the alluring Tania (Rachel
Weisz), a woman equally adept with a marksman’s rifle and a translator’s
pen. These humanly flawed complexities add tension and poignancy to what
would otherwise be a grim Soviet High Noon with snipers.
In one riveting subplot, König toys with
the affections and loyalty of a young Russian boy (Gabriel Thomson) who
feeds information and misinformation while shining the Major’s boots.
We know König knows of the boys inherent disloyalty and almost
fanatical worship of Vassili, and yet it is fascinating to watch the
wily manipulation while the lad is used as a means to lure Vassili into
trap after trap, counter trap after counter trap. The ultimate end for
the boy is a chilling example of the horrors of war in the clutches of a
Machiavellian soldier, who in many ways typifies the efficient cruelty
of the Germanic war machine.
And yet, Enemy at the Gates, is
not merely a jingoistic anti-Nazi cliché. The vision here is subtly
crafted by a French auteur who directed, co-wrote, and co-produced this
piece. Through his artistic and thematic vision, we transcend the
horrors of the Holocaust and the tyranny of the jackboot to experience
the universal degradation of war. In this movie, the ‘good guy’
Soviets are hardly a troop of wise cracking, heroic Yanks or Brits. The
brutality of the Stalinist regime, herding hundreds of thousands of mere
boys from cattle cars into exploding shells with only one rifle to two
men and orders that when one is killed, the other is to pick up the
weapon, graphically depicts the bloody realities of motivation in the
face of desperation and unimaginable violence. It is so painfully ironic
that we owe our freedom and comfort to such as these. We winced in pain
as Soviet soldiers are cut to tatters by Nazi fire so that the survivors
could be picked off by their own kind under orders that those returning
are to be shot. Ultimately, the only fate is death; bloody, violent,
brutal, gripping carnality without honor, dignity, or, in the largest
sense, any apparent, immediate purpose. In some ways, the
civility-masked brutality of the German almost seems preferable to the
drunken swagger of the Slav, typified by a Vodka swilling Krushchev (Bob
Hoskins).
With usual Hollywood wartime fare, we are
often beguiled by the fair damsel or a peasant lass swept off her feet
by the gallant passing soldier. We presume an erotic connection, but
even if there is depicted sex, it is wholesome, fun, airbrushed,
deodorized. In Enemy at the Gates, in line with the brutal
contrast of heroism and war, we have screened one of the most gripping
scenes of coital connection. In the dripping cellar of a bombed out
building, Vassili is visited by Tania. Both had begun their night by
sleeping in the clothes they fought in, separated by a gender quarantine
enforced by roving guards. There is no telling when they last washed, or
ate a decent meal, or had the comfort of privacy in preparation for
their tryst. This was not a honeymoon. This was the joining of two half
starved, visceral beings drawn to the power and perfection in each
other, reaching, in all their filth and uncertainty, for a glimpse of
freedom through physical union. Afraid to be caught by the guards and
yet compelled to consummate, Vassili and Tania open their mouths in a
poignant, silent scream of fulfillment. Their daring, their danger, and
their absolute abandon, agonizing in their beauty and combination of
enforced restraint and soulful release, ignite the screen.
How many of us, in lives of self-centered
ease, full of activities and indulgences that help us find ourselves,
express ourselves, heal ourselves, calm ourselves, excite ourselves,
find the level of visceral connection that Tania provides when she
offers herself to Vassili in what amounts to hardly more than a dank
dungeon? And yet with all our supposed advantages, we are unsatisfied
when they were fulfilled.
With his uncanny gift of leading us from
the unfamiliar to the intimate, Jude Law claims his place among
Hollywood’s leading character actors as he captures our imagination
with the innocence, vulnerability, and perseverance of Vassili. Of
course, the steely, blue eyed, calculated gaze of Ed Harris shall be
remembered as one of the best in a portrayal of a Nazi, and Joseph
Fiennes's portrayal of Danilov captures the fragile emergence of
humanity challenged to the ultimate sacrifice in order to right the
wrongs committed out of selfishness and jealousy.
Unfortunately, Enemy at the Gates has
not fared especially well at the box office. Perhaps, it tries to be too
many things; a classic western confrontation between two gun slingers, a
war based tragic love story, a political drama, a dark, cynical
reflection on the triumph of humanity despite itself. Then again, this
may be the film’s strength as well as its fate while it tries to weave
so many threads. In any event, Enemy at the Gates will haunt us.
Its cinematography alone demands to be appreciated again on DVD, and it
is a film that should be used in several disciplines as the means of
finding understanding of our ironic, fallible human natures.
