Zulu

That which courses through men’s veins is inscrutable. It demands that they hold the line, take that hill or march out as firearm fodder so a chief can assess the enemy. What again were the soldiers defending? A few buildings? A corral? Inconsequential. These men had orders and were determined to obey them. There was no clear enemy and no clear purpose—just men fulfilling their duty on both sides.

I was in shock and awe. What would I do in that world? --I’d hide out in the chapel tending to the wounded, while inwardly being beside myself with the futility of it all. Then, in the end, if I survived, I’d find a way to be alone to involuntarily lose the contents of my stomach and have a solitary breakdown.

No soldier's life for me.

The film did provide some glimpses into men’s thoughts and internal struggles. Even with all the stoicism, there were some fine moments of self inspection, realization and vulnerability. (For an insightful look at men and war, read oldkid’s review of War Horse!) Overall, the contrasting lieutenants, the rhythms of the Zulus and the strategies of both were my favorite aspects.

Back story almost always rivals a movie itself. The Zulus had never seen a motion picture; so Stanley Baker (Lt. John Char) brought in a projector and showed them a Gene Autry film. Oh how I would have loved to be there to see the images flicker across their faces. Magic.