Paths of Glory (1957)

“Paths of Glory” is Stanley Kubrick’s dramatization of a doomed French army attack on a German-held hill during World War I, and the immoral trial that follows where three soldiers are accused of cowardice. Or, rather, not sacrificing themselves for country, God, and their general’s careers. Kirk Douglas plays the defense attorney turned Army colonel who survives the ill-planned attack and will damn himself rather than see one of his soldiers die for false pride. This is pitch-black, dead serious satire, a liberal’s film from the go as it eviscerates the essence of war and the military brass that strategize in palaces while their men die in muddy trenches. Kubrick’s direction is tight and powerful, there’s not a wasted scene in this razor-sharp film. His long tracking shots along endless trenches are breath-killing claustrophobic, nailing what must be the true fear of battle, where doomed men debate how they will go out: bomb, bullet, or knife. A scene where a sociopathic general berates to a soldier, “there’s no such thing as shell shock,” slices hard. American hero Patton did that. This film is no fantasy, but depicts a true, terrible story. A+

The Sweet Smell of Success (1957)

“The Sweet Smell of Success” sizzles with the best dialogue -- “You’re dead, son. Get yourself buried”-- ever put to screen, a funky jazz score by Elmer Bernstein, and a sleazy night-owl view of New York so vibrant, it burns the eyes. It’s a pitch-black film noir about corruption, fame and journalism run amok even more relevant in 2010. Tony Curtis is Sidney Falco, a soulless PR hack slaved to J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), a famous/vile newspaper Winchell-like columnist who spreads lies, innuendo and pure bullshit, all wrapped up in false American patriotism. He’s the Glenn Beck of his day, his own God. Hunsecker won’t print Falco’s news unless the latter breaks up the columnist’s kid sister and her musician lover. Hunsecker, you see, wants his sister so damn bad. Perv. Spineless Falco obliges and suffers greatly. Lancaster makes one scary demagogue, while Curtis blows his role out of the water. You can see the lies form in his mind before they slither out his mouth. Alexander Mackendrick’s direction is razor sharp, and the Clif Odets/Ernest Lehman screenplay draws blood. A+