Promised water Shots from the air sweep the sand around the tank. But the commander is tempered and cold-blooded - and soon the plane of the damned fascists will crash down... An international, motley, motley, extremely intricate company is formed suddenly on the sultry expanses of the unconventional for perception bridgehead of the Second World War. What is it like to take care of them all to the indomitable sergeant Gunn, unable to let an Italian prisoner die of thirst in the desert, calling his tank after his beloved horse?
No, of course, the film in some moments made in a befitting heroic-patriotic manner. There will be pathetic speeches with which the father-commander motivates his wards to an almost hopeless enterprise. They are, however, respected by the fact that they become an ode not so much to America as to other peoples and their resistance to fascism. Including even the Chinese, who moved their settlements hundreds of kilometers before the Japanese. There will be nostalgia for the departed comrades, seasoned, probably, with more than one lump in the throat from the way the young man repeated the name of his beloved before the end, or from the stingy male conversation of the shooter sparrow before his death.
But still there are a lot of charismatic and non-cardboard characters. And their conversations about civilian life are bribed by their sincerity and open-mindedness - such dialogues, well, with the pepper of some core words that could not then be inserted for censorship reasons, may well take place between soldiers and their prisoners in situations where supplies and vital energy are running out, and it is most reasonable to cooperate in the face of a common disaster. In those circumstances in which the sergeant himself, and all his soldiers, and each prisoner of war will provide three sips of immeasurably valuable water.
Captive Fritz is depicted, perhaps, too fanatical - there were most likely in reality and ordinary German soldiers who did not rush when captured. But this is a tradition for that era, in Mrs. Miniver, for example, a captive pilot is also portrayed as quite intoxicated by fascist agitation. In addition, bluffing is not the worst option in a war. In the end, after all, then Gann will bluff before the commander of the German battalion, promising water in exchange for the weapons of the Krauts, despite the fact that he actually has no water.
The most cute and soulful character here, apparently, is an Italian, almost outshineing Gunn himself (hence the Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor). Giuseppe casually plays in front of everyone, as in Italy they eat bread, onions, cheese and drink wine. And Americans are in a mood, and he almost saturated with his stories. But he’s smart enough to rebuke Mussolini’s regime because he knows there’s no more milk, butter, or cheese in his village, even for young children, because the Nazis have slaughtered all the cows. This is one of the undeniable evidences that fascist and related regimes are not only falling apart from foreign troops. But also because the people of such a state can understand how the government deceives them.
Well, Humphrey Bogart aesthetically demonstrates that the body hardened by physical tests and fortitude in war are very much combined with cunning and the ability to go all-in. Gone, filigree and resourceful psychological game of Gunn against the Germans provides his image with a certain trickstery, so that some of the features of the sergeant might be Vasily Terkin.
Even the metaphorical dimension of the picture does not look too tortured and far-fetched. The story of Moses is unforeseen to be of great importance to the few lost in the Sahara. And does the associate joke that it is time for the sergeant to cut the rock, suddenly champagne pours out of it as if from the staff of Moses, but suddenly and really a miracle can be restored in drops, like water, scantly and reluctantly oozing from the sand? In any case, the film itself is certainly a refreshing crystal stream.