The Biggest Battle

Shot in 1978, during a decade saturated with revisionist interpretations and international co-productions, this film offers a compelling-if at times uneven-exercise in ensemble war storytelling. Situated within the well-worn terrain of the Second World War's European theater, the movie positions itself among those sprawling, multithreaded narratives that attempt to span not only geographical borders but ideological ones as well. The context of its production is essential: the late '70s saw Italy-and much of Europe-grappling with political turbulence, post-1968 disillusionment, and a cinematic shift toward more ambivalent portrayals of heroism. In this light, the film's ideological subtext oscillates between a residual admiration for wartime sacrifice and a growing skepticism about military valor as pure virtue, a tension which is perceptible both in its mise-en-scène and in its performance style.

Cinematically, the movie is ambitious but occasionally overstretches its reach. Its use of Panavision widescreen is effective, especially in the battle scenes and troop movements, which are clearly influenced by the visual grammar of American epics such as A Bridge Too Far (1977). Yet while that film benefited from a cohesive aesthetic and a consistent tone, this one seems torn between dramatic gravitas and exploitation-film spectacle. The lighting in interior scenes often veers into soap-operatic territory, with overly diffused sources flattening what should be moments of claustrophobia or moral tension. Exteriors fare better: winter settings are appropriately grim, and the muddy palettes, likely informed by the Italian neorealist residue still lingering in European cinematography, create an effective contrast with the more glamorized combat scenes.

The editing style is indicative of its time, favoring rapid intercutting that sometimes undermines narrative clarity. This is especially evident in the crosscutting between parallel plotlines, which appear to compete rather than complement each other. The result is a certain dissonance in pacing-moments of reflection are too often interrupted by sequences that feel included for spectacle's sake rather than narrative necessity. This narrative fragmentation mirrors to some extent the thematic pluralism of the film, but it comes at a cost: emotional investment is scattered, and the film never quite manages to fully inhabit any one of its many story arcs.

Performance-wise, the ensemble cast reflects the Euro-American co-production strategy typical of the period. While some of the actors bring a credible pathos to their roles-particularly those portraying rank-and-file soldiers caught in the grind of orders and ideology-others seem to be playing archetypes rather than characters, delivering their lines with a theatricality more suited to dubbed television dramas than war cinema. This disjointedness in acting styles-possibly due to linguistic and cultural differences among the cast-adds another layer of fragmentation to the viewing experience. Nevertheless, in moments of silence or shared glances, the film achieves a kind of understated poignancy rarely found in more bombastic entries of the genre.

The score, though derivative, provides a steady undercurrent that ties together the disparate narrative threads. It leans heavily on brass and martial motifs, occasionally lapsing into over-sentimentality, especially during scenes of sacrifice or reunion. Still, it functions adequately within the genre's expectations. In comparison with The Eagle Has Landed (1976), which also juggles espionage, infiltration, and multinational perspectives, this film is less taut in structure but more visually expressive, even if that expression often borders on melodrama.

Thematically, the movie straddles several registers: it wants to condemn the machinery of war while simultaneously indulging in its aesthetics. This contradiction reflects the sociopolitical moment of its production, when audiences were both weary of grand narratives and nostalgic for collective struggle. Its antiwar gestures-though present-are undermined by its reliance on spectacle and its occasional descent into near-pulp portrayals of violence. Unlike Cross of Iron (1977), which maintained a consistent tone of moral ambiguity and psychological depth, this film struggles to reconcile its stylistic bravado with the gravity of its subject matter.

The film's most effective sequences are those that slow down and allow for the materiality of war to be felt: the weight of uniforms soaked in blood and mud, the tactile despair of soldiers sleeping in trenches, the silence after an artillery barrage. In those moments, the film edges closer to the kind of micro-historical sensibility found in Stalingrad (1993), albeit lacking its single-minded focus. But such instances are fleeting. Too often, the film returns to its panoramic scope, sacrificing intimacy for narrative sprawl.

Technically, the use of practical effects and pyrotechnics is commendable, especially given the limited budget typical of European co-productions at the time. These sequences, while less polished than those of contemporaneous American productions, possess a rawness that suits the film's more grounded aspirations. The sound design, however, occasionally fails to match the intensity of the visuals-explosions are muffled or mistimed, and the mix tends to flatten battlefield acoustics rather than accentuate their chaos.

As a product of its time, this movie reveals much about the shifting cultural memory of the Second World War in 1970s Europe. It attempts to be many things-a tapestry of wartime experiences, a critique of militarism, an action vehicle, and a meditative homage-and in trying to balance these aims, it falters as often as it succeeds. Yet its ambition and its willingness to foreground European perspectives on an often Anglo-American dominated genre render it a valuable, if flawed, entry in the corpus of World War II cinema.

I don't understand how Luciano Martino and Mino Loy were able to raise the money to hire so many big-name actors of the time (such as Orson Welles, John Huston, Henry Fonda, and Samantha Eggar) but they still had to rely on plentiful stock footage from earlier war movies like THE BATTLE OF EL ALAMEIN and LEGION OF THE DAMNED. Pretty much all the substantial action scenes featured here consist of lifted shots from late 60's films, giving it an overall dated appearance.

Umberto Lenzi's directing is good as usual, with lots of emphasis placed on the well-edited action scenes. The budget for production design and extras casting appears minimal however, with a lot of the same actors dying over and over again, and a few really shoddy toy tanks exploding.

As for the cast, just about everybody that had anything to do with the Italian movie industry shows up somewhere in the movie, from familiar dubbing voice Robert Spafford as Patton to future director Michele Soavi as Fonda's dead son. The photography and music are all top notch, yet this movie has gotten ad reviews across the board. Why? My guess is that it's because it has little or no plot to speak of. There are so many characters and so much going on in the film that it has no focus or direction. Eggar's character has no point in the movie other than she makes it slightly longer, and Edwige Fenech gets one lousy scene as a French prostitute. Eventually, most of the actors end up in Africa fighting on one side or the other and (surprise!) the Germans lose and all the German characters die, the end. But who goes to watch a good old-fashioned war movie for the plot anyway? There's plenty to enjoy if you like watching German soldiers lying in the road pretending to be dead so they can shoot the American soldiers that run up to help them. It also contains a number of memorable scenes like when Stacy Keach gets lost in the desert and falls over after about 10 seconds of walking, and a very irritating case of bad communication when Ray Lovelock attempts to call up his father and the two barely manage to get through even a few words.

The ending really comes out of nowhere though, but it's made especially funny as John Huston seems to just get bored of the movie and walk off saying "seeya around" right into the camera! The extended European cut at least provides a little more closure and overall much less disjointed, though it's missing the Orson Welles narration which so desperately tries to tie everything together. Definitely not a movie to miss... for fans of the Italian war movie sub-genre and those curious to see a sort of dry run for the WINDS OF WAR miniseries.

For a low-budget movie set during World War II, it does have a rough and violent edge. Above all, BATTLE FORCE surrenders to a non-existent plot and storyline that's been duped hundreds of times repeatedly. Don't expect much here as there's no specific meaning. Explosions and body counts are nothing new! Adding to the troop casulty count is of Orson Welles' annoying and interrupting narration, making it feel like a made-for-television documentary. War movies are instant classics in the grade "A" Hollywood circuit, and SAVING PRIVATE RYAN triumphs realism today. Despite a fairly good replica of those WW2 days, BATTLE FORCE is another run-of-the-mill production without enough substance. Anyone who grew up watching Hollywood war dramas in their lifetimes probably avoided this one while history was made.

I'm not a fan of war films to say the least and if I'm going to sit down and watch one, there generally has to be a real good reason for doing so. Despite the fact that Battle Force is a largely unknown and inconsequential war film from the late seventies; I actually did have several good reasons for seeing it. Anything directed by Umberto Lenzi is automatically worth watching considering all the great cult films he has delivered; from some of the best Giallo's to the very best of the Polizi genre, and adding to that is absolutely mouth-watering cast. However, in spite of those things; this is still a highly disappointing and really rather rubbish movie. The plot is rather confusing and doesn't make much sense and mainly focuses on two families of different nationalities during World War Two. However, we also focus on the actual war itself and various battles that the characters are involved in and this all gets mingled in with the stories of the families...

The main problem with this film is that it tries to do too much and the one hundred minute running time is simply not long enough for it to do it all in (although I am thankful that the film didn't last for longer!). I don't really know how credible Umberto Lenzi was as a director in 1978 (probably more credible than he was in the eighties), but somehow he has managed to get his hands on a magnificent cast chequered with stars - and not just cult stars! Big names such as John Huston, Henry Fonda and Orson Welles have roles alongside cult stars such as Ray Lovelock, Samantha Eggar, Evelyn Stewart, Stacy Keach, Helmut Berger and Edwige Fenech (who really doesn't appear for long enough). This cast is all well and good but unfortunately it's wasted. The plot lacks any sort of direction and the film might actually have been better as an anthology style movie with a few different but focused stories. The war scenes look extremely cheap (the budget was probably spent on paying stars' wages) and that also brings the film down, although there is plenty of action. Overall, this did actually have the potential to be a masterpiece; but to say the least, it isn't! Recommended for its cult value only.

This film has the unmistakable whiff of tax write off about it and I can't believe the non-Italians in this Italian made World War II film weren't doing this one for nothing more than a paycheck and a European vacation.

For an Italian film you would think Italy would be mentioned somewhere in this story. The climax of the movie is the battle for Tunisia where the Italians had a lot of soldiers. The battle scenes are merely stock footage from other and better films.

The only tie in this whole story is a meeting in Berlin of retired army general Henry Fonda, war correspondent John Huston, German-Jewish actress Samantha Eggar and German major Stacy Keach. Meeting at the time of the Olympics there, the four dismiss the possibility of war.

After that it seems like you're watching four or five separate films all at once. Everyone seems to be just reciting the dialog by rote and hurrying off to do better things presumably. Even Orson Welles who narrates the English language version, can't whip up any excitement in his voice.

It's just another one done for the money.