*SPOILER ALERT: AVENGERS: ENDGAME*
Who doesn’t love a good old fashioned sword-clanging, arrow-firing, missile-launching battle sequence? War films and battle scenes have been a staple of cinema ever since the medium was invented, and with television budgets rapidly rising to meet the enormous amounts of money being ploughed into the big screen, we are more likely than ever to see someone swing an axe into someone else’s face. Take the current darling of the “small” screen, Game of Thrones – bloody and bonkers – which has just screened its epic Battle of Winterfell to much praise and no little social media hysteria (although this writer thinks that the Battle of the Bastards beats this slug-fest quite comfortably in the “epic” stakes). Or the most recent CGI-laden mass scraps from films like Avengers: EndGame and its part one, Infinity War, both of which brought bombast to the battlefield at various points.
Battle sequences are a joy to behold when filmed and shot right, and turgid, forgettable messes when they are done wrong. Happily for this article, we are staying firmly focused on the epic scraps, those meaty, bloody and bone-crunching affairs that make you wince in your seat. SO IT BEGINS…
Battle in the forest: Gladiator (2000)
We can thank Ridley Scott for helping bring back swords and sandals into the cinematic mainstream back at the beginning of the 21st century with his ultra-macho, historically iffy epic set in Ancient Rome – this was the film that established Russell Crowe as the ultimate hard man leading actor. Throughout the run time he brooded, snarled, roared and brooded some more from the forests of Germania to the Colosseum in Rome, even taking the time to look all mean and moody at a frankly terrifying CGI face that was supposed to look like Oliver Reed. The tone of the film was set in its opening; a brutal battle in the darkness of the German forests as the Romans looked to put down one more rebellion that would seal peace in the empire. Crowe played Maximus Decimus Meridius, an esteemed commander who would be betrayed by the son of the dead emperor. We open with the rebel “barbarians” sending the decapitated corpse of Roman messenger on his horse back to the ranks of the imperial army. Maximus takes his cavalry away from the battlefield, far into the forests behind the enemy, while the Roman infantry opens with a barrage of arrows and flaming missiles into the scattered hordes of moody looking, fur-wearing Goths.
The rebels absorb some damage but initially withstand it, although in one particularly memorable moment, one of them takes a giant flaming ballista missile square in the chest, pinning him to a tree. Then the infantry legions are on top of them, spears out from behind massed ranks of tall shields. The rebels charge, colliding with the shield walls, some of them flipped head over heels into the array of iron-tipped spears. There’s the crunching of blunt weapons into armour, men crumpling to the floor as they are impaled on various sharp things. The camera work is excellent, moving right into the action as closely as possible. And then from behind, leading the charge of the hidden cavalry, comes Crowe’s lead character, screaming “STAY WITH ME!” as the horses slam into the enemy from behind. A rebel is beheaded, our hero’s sword embedded into a tree – but it’s okay because he has another! He grabs his second sword from its saddle hilt and swings again, cutting someone else in half. Blood splatters the floor, flicks into the air, covers the faces of those who we can see in very close detail. After mere moments, all we can see of these faces are the whites of their eyes from behind the mud and the blood. It is this attention to detail that makes Scott’s battle sequence so compelling; there’s fire and blood, tears and screams. Men pull other men to the ground and beat them to death. The rebel leader is impaled by at least six swords before he slumps to the ground. The music swells, the camera pans out and the cheers of those lucky enough to survive can be heard, as the Romans have won yet another battle. The action in Gladiator becomes decidedly less grand in scale after this opening twenty minutes, which can only be a good thing as the audience would have been exhausted had it carried on. An outstanding battle sequence.
Omaha Beach: Saving Private Ryan (1998)
Moving much further forward in time to the Second World War now, and the D-Day landings in Normandy during the summer of 1944. Steven Spielberg’s brutal, unflinching examination of modern warfare Saving Private Ryan might only show American soldiers saving the day, but my word does it do it well. Although the film itself is a good, compelling watch, it is the opening thirty minutes that really live in the memory. Beginning in the English Channel, at Dog Sector of Omaha Beach, we follow the progression of American Rangers, crammed together on landing craft that are slamming into the surf of the choppy, morning waters. The men are quiet, save for an odd few muttering prayers. One kisses a crucifix. Most stare forward, evidently nervous at what is to come. The colour is drained from the palette of the screen, a piece of absolute genius from the director. As the doors open, the soldiers are instantly met with a hail of machine gun bullets that tear through the front ranks until the remaining soldiers realise that they need to get over the sides, jumping into the foaming sea. The camera is right on top of the men, or right behind them, as bullets thud into their chests, or whizz through the water while the soldiers struggle against the weight of their equipment and drown in the Channel.
Those (un)lucky enough to make it onto the beach are greeted with a scene from hell. We are taken along with the soldiers from the water to the sand, ducking the exploding artillery shells and cowering behind tank traps as bullets ricochet wildly off them, ripping through flesh and bone. Screams fill the air as blood runs into the water as the tide takes corpses back out, and back in. Captain Miller, played stoically as ever by Tom Hanks, tries to carry men towards the machine gun posts, trying to follow his orders to take the beach. Men are blown up around him, one Ranger can be seen looking for his severed arm. Another removes his helmet as a bullet pings off it – “lucky bastard” exclaims someone – before a second bullet smashes his skull open like an egg. After many sacrifices – we start to see the the emotional toil this takes on Captain Miller – the beach is claimed. Retribution is understandably delivered (“Don’t shoot, let ’em burn!” shouts one Ranger as German soldiers leap from a pillbox, ablaze and screaming) and the Allies have their foothold. Saving Private Ryan is unapologetic in how it depicts the horrors of war in this draining, exhausting opening. To be honest, it is more of a slaughter to begin with, rather than a battle, but what a scene it is.
Final Battle: Avengers: EndGame (2019)
Superhero films have come a long, long way from the camp, good-natured Superman series led by Christopher Reeve. Many iconic comic book characters have been represented on the big screen – Spiderman has had three versions of the webslinger since 2000 – and while some have been absolute hits (Christoper Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy in particular), some have missed (step forward, Fantastic Four and Joel Schumacher’s Batman disasterclasses). However, since 2008, the “Marvel Cinematic Universe” has been giddily building towards the mother of all superhero showdowns: Avengers: EndGame. What began eleven years ago with Robert Downey Jnr’s superb depiction of Iron Man – once a “secondary” character – has now drawn to a close, for some characters, with “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” going toe to toe with the Mad Titan, Thanos. Hype, hysteria and social media chicanery have contributed to just how epic this final instalment is, and trust me when I say that it is perfect popcorn cinema.
This might be a strange sentence, certainly in an article about the greatest battle scenes of all time, but EndGame isn’t necessarily the best battle sequence in terms of camera work, or realism (we are talking about a series of films where the antagonist throws planets at people), but in terms of fan service and of creating genuinely moving and memorable moments, the final clash between good and evil is absolutely jaw-dropping. With Thanos travelling forward in time from 2014 (don’t ask), he levels the headquarters of the Avengers, reducing the area to a deep red-black husk, echoing the colours of Titan from Infinity War. With many of our heroes deep below ground, buried in rubble, only Tony Stark (Iron Man), Steve Rogers (Captain America) and Thor (Thor), are left to face down the big purple behemoth. The three fight, with Thanos eventually putting Iron Man down, and then overpowers Rogers and Thor. He tries to put Thor’s axe into the Norse God’s chest, but is hit by the suddenly moving Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer. The audience for a second don’t realise who is wielding it; because of course Mjolnir can only be picked up by those who are “worthy” – is it Iron Man? Has Hulk arrived? Is it Captain Marvel? Nope, it’s Captain America.
If there was a perfect superhero moment to top all others, this one might be up there. The audience in the screening I went to whooped and cheered – highly unusual for a British audience – as Captain America went to town on Thanos with the hammer, with Thor grinning, “I knew it”. Before long however, Thanos regains the upper hand on the empty battlefield, and his army arrive behind him. Rogers slowly stands to face literally thousands of enemy soldiers alone – but then portals open behind him – and the “vanished” appear to take on the enemy. All of the characters who were turned to dust in Infinity War came back to much delight – there was Spiderman, all hyperactive and delighted to see “Mr Stark”. There was Black Panther, and Valkyrie, and the Guardians of the Galaxy, and Scarlet Witch…basically, it was the ultimate in battlefield arrivals. And as for the moment when Captain America finally utters the words “Avengers…Assemble!” – absolutely sensational stuff. And then the two sides clash, all CGI and explosions, with nifty magic from Dr Strange, and unicorns and transit vans and everything else you could wish for to make an utterly bonkers cinematic spectacle. And just when you think that bombastic is all that Marvel can do…
Iron Man dies. Yep. At the very end of the battle, just when Thanos believes he has the Infinity Stones back and clicks his fingers, it actually turns out that Tony Stark has fulfilled the “one in fourteen million” prophecy, taken the stones and clicks his fingers to turn Thanos and his minions into dust, restoring forever the world before Thanos – but not before delivering the epic “I am…Iron Man” line. Stark succumbs to his injuries on the battlefield, comforted by his wife Pepper Potts, and his prodigy Peter Parker. It is a gut-wrenching moment that takes the wind out of your sails as you watch it but what a way to close the book on eleven years of pretty consistent cinematic excellence
Lightsaber Battle: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)
There really wasn’t much to write home about when it came to George Lucas’s messy, muddled Star Wars trilogy of prequels – overemphasis on medichlorians, overuse of CGI, terrible dialogue and woefully wooden acting all contributed to what was a real letdown for fans and newcomers alike. And that’s before we’ve even got near to talking about the spectacularly offensive Jar Jar Binks. However, the series did have some saving graces; the pod-racing scene was genuinely brilliant, and the soundtrack was, as ever, outstanding. And in Episode I there was a genuine treat for the viewer in the form of the brilliantly executed lightsaber scrap between Obi-Wan Kenobi, his mentor Qui-Gon Jinn and the iconic – if badly underused – Sith apprentice Darth Maul.
On the planet of Naboo, out Jedi heroes race to secure the safety of Princess Amidala and her city. Inside the cavernous inner halls of the palatial building, the good guys are stopped in their tracks by the appearance of a hooded figure, who reveals himself to be Darth Maul (he had briefly engaged with Liam Neeson’s Qui-Gon earlier in the film but it was too brief to include as an introduction). Unperturbed, the Jedi knights send the rest of the good guy entourage on their way while they prepared to face the red and black painted villain – who wields a double-bladed red lightsaber.
The opening exchanges are furious and unrelenting, a whirl of green, blue and red light and no small amount of quality stunt work. Our heroes flip, dodge and work in tandem to fend off a foe who is clearly bringing his A-game for this fight. The Jedi force him backwards into some sort of generator area, with (typically for Star Wars) plenty of huge, impossibly high drops from impossibly narrow walkways to fall from. As Duel of the Fates rises like a tidal wave in the background, the fight is stalled by the appearance of some sort of energy force field barriers that cut off Obi-Wan from the other two. All parties can only watch, wait and in Qui-Gon’s case, meditate, as they wait for the barriers to move. Maul menacingly slashes at the barrier with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan, breathing heavily, impatiently bounces up and down, getting ready.
And then the barriers part and in an instant Qui-Gon and Maul are at it again, working at impossible speeds until Maul impales the Jedi through the chest. Obi-Wan gets his revenge soon after however, cleaving the Sith in half, watching his corpse fall into a huge, deep hole. Qui-Gon dies, but Obi-Wan establishes himself as the baddass that we all expected he was like when we saw his elderly form in A New Hope. This fight is small scale in terms of number, but breathtaking in both execution and excitement.
Helm’s Deep: Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)
Say what you like about Game of Thrones, or any other fantasy epic: the greatest of the genre ever committed to the screen is now – almost unbelievably – twenty years old. When Peter Jackson took a load of theatre-trained thesps, one of the lads from The Goonies and a handful of relative unknowns out to New Zealand to film the legendary tome Lord of the Rings, nobody could have envisaged the wide-ranging and deep impact (ha, little Elijah Wood in-joke there) that he was about to have on the modern cultural landscape. From the outrageously brilliant cinematography to the outstanding script, plot and acting, this trilogy of films rightly takes its place as being among the greatest of all time. It’s fair to say that the fantasy genre was not always taken seriously on the big screen until Jackson applied his genius to Tolkien’s literary masterpiece.
In terms of battles and fight sequences, there are plenty scattered throughout the saga; Aragorn single-handedly holding off hordes of Uruk-hai at Amon Hen in Fellowship of the Ring, to the stupendously brilliant night attack on the Uruks by the Rohirrim in The Two Towers,. Oh and of course, let’s not forget to put huge levels of respect on the Battle of Pelannor Fields in the final instalment, The Return of the King. Each battle is shot brilliantly and intuitively, ensuring that the audience don’t feel fatigue. In some instances some battles are directed by the second unit, giving another viewpoint on how they should play out. They are serious, bloody and brutal. There are decapitations and dismemberment – lest you think Thrones did it first, or better. Which it doesn’t.
However there is only one choice that could make this list – and it is simply the greatest battle sequence put to film. The climactic, jaw-dropping spectacle of the Battle of Helm’s Deep in the second of the trilogy works on pretty much every level. Like Zulu, the film spends a long, long time building up to the final showdown between Saruman’s Uruks and the bedraggled Rohan defenders, ably assisted by Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, as well as leaderhip from King Theoden and a Lothlorien Elf strikeforce (a slight deviation from the books, but never mind that). It has all the ingredients required for an epic clash to work: good guys heavily outnumbered? Check. An enemy out for wholesale slaughter? Check. A leader (in this case, two) unsure of his responsibility? Check. Horrendous weather? Check. Children and the elderly hiding in the caves far behind the fortress walls? Check. Epic set-pieces? Check, check, check.
The grinding, slow build up to the battle runs throughout the film, and by the time the Uruk forces assemble, in the driving rain, in front of the imposing walls of Helm’s Deep, the tension is unbearable. A part-time soldier fires an arrow into the neck of an unfortunate enemy soldier out of sheer terror – and then comes the Uruk charge. Flinging themselves at the walls, under a barrage of arrow fire, they use ladders to reach the top. Our defenders ably keep the majority at bay, but the deaths start to rack up; already low numbers are depleting rapidly. But the walls hold. The camera pans along the wall as elves, man, Uruks and a dwarf slug it out; brevity arrives in the form of Legolas and Gimli’s game where they count up enemies they have slain. But the Uruk’s won’t be stopped; a suicide soldier races towards the wall with a blazing torch, his eyes fixed on the mine laid earlier. Legolas – so accurate usually – sees his talents desert him as he puts two arrows into the manic creature, but he can’t stop him leaping into the container of black powder –
The explosion rips through the walls, blowing stone and rock and bodies high into the night sky. Aragorn is flung from the walls, into a pool of water forming from a small stream. There is an almost silent convulsion before the enemy realise that they have their breach, and they pour in. Legolas sees the imminent danger his friend is in, and grabs a shield, slides down the steps of the walls, firing arrows into Uruks as they pour through, before leaping and embedding the shield into the neck of one of them. It is a brilliant shot, one that draws admiration even after multiple viewings; it’s just cool. Gimli had already flung himself off the wall, axe swinging twenty feet down into the enemy masses. The battle falls back, and back, desperately towards the keep. All the while, Jackson expertly cuts back to the Forest of Fangorn, where Treebeard and the other Ents are slowly mulling over the possibility of going to war. This cuts through the fighting superbly well, ensuring the audience don’t tire. When we return to the fight Theoden is now in the thick of it, taking a spear to the shoulder. Aragorn and Gimli perform heroics on the bridge approaching the keep, buying precious time, but it is not long before the defenders are overwhelmed and are forced into the keep for a last stand.
Except that Aragorn doesn’t want a last stand inside Helm’s Deep. He wants to ride out. Nobody is coming to help, they are on their own – the last guards buying time for the panicked civilians to make their escape through the mountains. Theoden and his Guard agree. Helmets are donned, horses are mounted (although nobody is sure where from, watch this scene again and you’ll notice). Our heroes ride out, slamming open the great doors and slamming into the mass of Uruks on the high bridge. They swing their swords, cleaving through enemy armour and determined to go down fighting. And just when you think you’ve seen it all, it happens:
Gandalf the White, mounted on Shadowfax, arrives on a high slope overlooking the battlefield. Just as the sun comes up. He is followed by Eomer, Prince of Rohan and cavalry commander of his own unit of crack troops. “Theoden King stands alone” mutters Gandalf. “Not alone” says Eomer, drawing his sword. The charge downhill, as the sun rises into the face of the enemy soldiers, surrounded by that epic score from Howard Shore, is simply majestic. They slam into the Uruks, scattering them everywhere and the battle is won. Breath is drawn. You realise that you had completely forgot that Gandalf had left Rohan to find Eomer nearly an hour and a half before – much like you forgot about the Vanished in EndGame. It’s a brilliant device and makes you grin from ear to ear when you realise that the good guys are going to win, after all. Was there ever any doubt?
Reds Under The Bed 