“The Great Escape” -- Not Exactly Escapist

 It used to be that all I knew about The Great Escape was Steve McQueen on a motorcycle. I figured this 1963 film was basically a precursor to 1968’s Bullitt (except that it’s set in a war zone instead of in the hills of San Francisco). In other words, I assumed it was intended to be an exercise in rugged machismo, definitely tailored to the males of the species. And so, in a way, it is. I don’t believe there’s a single female in the movie who has so much as a line of dialogue. It’s a men-without-women story all the way.

 But The Great Escape is a great deal more complex, more historically-based, and more emotionally charged than Bullitt. Most of the nearly-three-hour running time is spent in a World War II prison camp designed by the Nazis to make escape impossible. It’s not, as prison camps go, a terrible place to be. But a large contingent of military prisoners (mostly British and American) are quite willing to risk their lives to plan and carry out a mass escape through  cleverly crafted underground tunnels they’ve managed to dig by hand. Part of what makes the film important is that the escape really happened, though in fact many nationalities were involved, and Americans had only a small role in the break-out plans. As in real life, the moments of triumph in the film go hand in hand with tragedy. Yes, there’s a great escape, but—as in the actual historical episode—the upshot is not a good outcome for many who are deeply involved.

 Part of what makes the film fascinating is the way it shows how individuals of various stripes can come together to pursue a common goal. The prisoners hail from a variety of backgrounds, and can boast a variety of useful skills. The McQueen character—the ruggedest individual of the bunch—was in civilian life a student of structural engineering. At first determined to go on the lam solely on his own, he becomes an important cog in the bigger plan. Others have vastly different skills. Richard Attenborough plays a natural leader with foreign language abilities; James Garner is an expert scrounger; James Coburn is featured as an Aussie who is terrific at inventing useful contraptions. Some experienced tailors in the group craft civilian clothing for the guys to wear on the outside; some prisoners with forgery skills turn out counterfeit travel documents that look like the real thing. Of course there are individual crises as the escape plans are finalized. Charles Bronson, using an Eastern European accent like the one he grew up with, plays a former miner, an expert tunnel-digger who happens to be severely claustrophobic. Another of the would-be escapees can’t deny that he is going blind. The film follows many of these men as they taste freedom for the first time in many months. What’s particularly moving is that several of the men put themselves in mortal danger by volunteering to buddy up with more vulnerable prisoners who’ll never survive on their own.

 Making all of this activity coherent is one of Hollywood’s greatest action directors, John Sturges. Starting as an editor, Sturges moved into the director’s chair, always showing a special talent for portraying groups of men in action settings. Prior to The Great Escape, he helmed Bad Day at Black Rock (1955), Gunfight at the OK Corral (1957), and The Magnificent Seven (1960). Lots of his films feature tough guys and the serious jeopardy they face, but he liked to end with a modest but genuine sense of triumph.