Scared to break the mould? Second World War ‘pleasure culture’ & the First World War films problem --- Catherine Warr

 Scared to break the mould? Second World War ‘pleasure culture’ & the First World War films problem

By Catherine Warr

History has been a life-long interest for Catherine, fostered by books and a childhood filled with visits to castles, museums, and any other sight of historical interest. In 2017 she created the YouTube channel Yorkshire's Hidden History, steadily documenting throughout her time at the University of Bradford various elements of Yorkshire history. She graduated from there with a BA in Peace Studies in 2020 and has since pursued a career as a historian. Her first book, A Yorkshire Year: 365 Days of Folklore, Customs and Traditions, has been accepted for publication and is due to be released in Spring 2022. Her main focus is on Yorkshire history, but she also enjoys learning and exploring other aspects of the past.

This is an extended version of a video essay originally published on my YouTube channel, Yorkshire’s Hidden History, in May 2021.

There is a problem with how we make films about the First World War. It has existed for quite a long time, and it does not just affect films; indeed, it is an issue which, it could be argued, plagues our entire understanding of the conflict and the media which we have produced about it. This problem is highly constrictive; it wields a certain kind of peer pressure, to the point where we may feel frightened or uncomfortable producing things which are perceived as going against it. But, as this essay hopes to argue, the role of historians – and anyone producing history-themed content – is not to simply blindly regurgitate the prevailing narrative, but to continually interrogate and challenge our beliefs about the past. 

But to truly understand what this problem is, we need to look first at the neighbouring problem in Second World War media. Because if First World War media is at one end of the spectrum, then Second World War media often falls at the other.

The ‘pleasure culture’ of the Second World War

Media created about the Second World War is highly varied and diverse. On the one hand, we have serious epics like Saving Private Ryan, Das Boot and Schindler’s List, which aim to tell their stories in a mature and sincere fashion. On the other hand, though, a great deal of media approaches the war with a comical and, one could argue, flippant and farcical tone. Sit-coms like Dad’s Army and ‘Allo ‘Allo! present a highly sanitised view of the war in which it serves as a convenient backdrop for light-hearted japes and easy-going evening entertainment. Many classic war films, such as The Dirty Dozen and The Great Escape, though possessing moments of sincerity, nevertheless present a view of the war more reminiscent of a Commando comic than a sincere, true-to-life depiction of the conflict.

This is symptomatic of a wide-spread ‘pleasure culture’ that exists about the Second World War. Games like the Medal of Honor and Call of Duty franchises present an arcade-ified version of the war, in which the player can, guilt-free, shoot endless waves of computer-generated Nazi soldiers and, in some cases, Nazi zombies. This latter element – the highly popular Nazi zombie phenomenon – represents, in my view, arguably the most flippant and obscene example of the way that a conflict, which happened only 80 years ago, has been commodified and appropriated as an avenue for entertainment.

But this ‘pleasure culture’ exists elsewhere as well. Model-making – be it tanks, ships, planes, or soldiers – is extremely popular around the world, and though I do not find anything intrinsically wrong – I myself enjoy the hobby at times - I do feel that it has the potential to divorce, in one’s mind, the objects one is modelling from the human cost of the war. Similarly, re-enacting and ‘1940s weekends’ are highly popular in the UK, in which one can wander around dressed up, listen to Vera Lynn, and participate in a re-telling of the war which is not entirely accurate. (I do not mean to say that all re-enacting is inaccurate; I myself re-enacted various historical periods for a number of years, and value deeply its potential as an educational resource. My main concern, however, is when Second World War re-enacting is less about education and more about 1940s nostalgia).

The problems which arise as a result of this ‘pleasure culture’ are myriad. It can, for example, lead to a ‘Top Trumps’ view of the war, in which one is solely concerned about which tank or gun is best, at the expense of everything else. It can also perpetuate inaccurate and sometimes dangerous narratives about the war, such as the highly problematic idea that the Holocaust was entirely divorced from the military aspect of the war.

I do not mean to say that it is bad to enjoy these ‘pleasurable’ aspects of war media, and it would be hypocritical of me to do so, as I myself have enjoyed them. Rather, I am merely trying to illustrate how Second World War media has often gone to the extreme end of one spectrum, whilst First World War media can often go to the...

...extreme end of the other spectrum.

If Second World War media suffers from a ‘pleasure culture’ problem, then First World War media suffers from a ‘serious’ problem. 

Generally speaking, the vast majority of First World War media contain most, or all, of the following elements:

• Set in the trenches in the Western Front;
• The protagonist(s) (or characters close to the protagonist) die tragically;
• The tone and colour palette reflects feelings of grim, depressing bleakness;
• An acknowledgement that the enemy (almost exclusively the Germans) are, all things considered, just like them and don’t really want to fight in the war;
• A generally anti-war message, focusing specifically on the perceived ‘wastefulness’ and ‘pointlessness’ of the First World War;
• Poppies;
• A female friend, relative, or lover of the protagonist(s) is or becomes a nurse;
• The protagonist(s) become traumatised or scarred by their experience in some way;
• Bonus points of they contain a Waterloo-esque “Why?!” scene from one of the soldiers.

These elements are not intrinsically bad. And they certainly exist for a reason. The First World War was, in many ways, bleak, sad, and depressing, and it is an incredibly sensitive period which has been incorporated into British popular consciousness and identity narratives as a ‘chosen trauma’. I therefore do not want the reader to assume that I am simply dismissing the very real pathos intended as part of and generated by these films, or the obvious sincerity of the filmmakers. What I am trying to illustrate is how uniform and, one could say, constrictive the norms of the genre have become. 

The problem arises when it seems as though all of our First World War media is created through that lens. We seemingly cannot depict the First World War without drenching it in poppies, the War Poets, and the aforementioned general tone of bleakness and tragedy. As I write now, thinking of First World War films off the top of my head – All Quiet on the Western Front, War Horse, Passchendaele, 1917, Private Peaceful, Testament of Youth  - they all follow the formula which I have outlined above. The excellent video game Valient Hearts: The Great War, whilst consisting of fun minigames and puzzles to solve, sprinkled in with moments of humour, nevertheless has a thoroughly sincere and serious tone. Oh! What A Lovely War, the popular musical, feels almost ham-fisted in its utilisation of these elements, as characters who are about to die are literally handed a poppy. The sit-com Blackadder Goes Forth is a rare example of a comedic approach to the First World War; however, as expected, it ends with a depressing scene in which the characters go ‘over the top’, almost as though the creators of the series could not part entirely with the obligation they felt to make the series reflect the popular understanding of the First World War. 

In addition, the over-emphasis on the (British) Western Front skews our perception of the conflict into one in which the significance of the campaigns in the Balkans, Middle East, Africa, and other theatres – in which British and Empire soldiers also fought and died - are not properly communicated to the public. 

I do not want the reader to get the impression that I am asking for us to start producing flippant First World War sit-coms or video games. I have, for example, a number of issues with the First World War themed game Battlefield 1.  Rather, I am asking the reader to evaluate the way that the conflict is presented in popular media. How many films perpetuate the idea of ‘lions led by donkeys’, that brave soldiers were sent to their deaths by stubborn and out-of-touch generals, despite many historians challenging the idea in recent years? The Gallipoli campaign is well-known as an Oceanic ‘chosen trauma’, a period highly significant and meaningful in the shaping of Oceanic national identity. But some may be surprised to learn that twice as many British soldiers became casualties as ANZAC soldiers, with the contribution of French and Indian soldiers even less well-known. I choose this example because, in the impression I received of the campaign from media such as the excellent miniseries Gallipoli (and the lack of media focusing on the British element), I had assumed it was essentially an entirely ANZAC campaign. Some may argue, at this point, that one should not get one’s entire education from TV and films, and with that I wholeheartedly agree. But it is undeniable that the media we consume influences our view of a subject, and though at that time I had not studied the campaign in any great detail, the media I consumed on the topic was enough to subconsciously shape my view of it. 

Peter Jackson’s They Shall Not Grow Old is certainly an outlier when it comes to the genre. Whilst the excellently produced and moving documentary certainly does not shy away from the grim realities of the war, and does to a certain extent reinforce the prevailing narrative which I have outlined, it does dare to show other ‘realities’ of the war; personal accounts which reveal that many soldiers enjoyed their time at war and viewed it as a ‘fun outing with the boys’. These experiences, though they contradict what we have come to expect of the First World War, are nevertheless real and valid lived experiences which deserve to be highlighted. Ernst Jünger’s controversial autobiography Storm of Steel is often jarring to the modern reader precisely because it does not conform to the established narrative we have about the First World War. Though Jünger’s work has been appropriated by nationalists and is often criticised for glorifying war, I contend, perhaps controversially, that it still remains a person’s valid, lived experience of the First World War – though one which may make us uncomfortable at times.

I could go on, but I feel as though I would simply be repeating myself. For filmmakers and other creatives, the First World War presents one of the most diverse and complex opportunities for storytelling. It involved and affected people from all over the world and forever changed the course of human history. Let us not restrict ourselves by feeling as though we are obliged to regurgitate the same tired, worn-out tropes, and make yet another depressing British war film set in the trenches of the Western Front. Let us challenge and re-evaluate existing narratives in the light of new evidence and ensure that as many authentic voices of the First World War are heard. And let us not, it must be said, move too far towards the opposite end of the spectrum and approach the war flippantly, with no regard for the people who suffered and died as a result of it.