Saving Private Ryan is a seminal war film. Between Steven Spielberg‘s visceral depiction of combat and the emotionally effective narrative of a squad of men risking all their lives in order to save one, it is an absolute masterpiece and often considered the greatest war movie ever made. While that distinction is highly subjective, it is hard to argue against the merits of Spielberg’s film and the influence it had on the many war films made in its shadow. Even so, the war genre is such a broad and expansive genre, filled with masterpieces by many of the greatest filmmakers of all time, that it’s almost impossible to objectively compare them. Alas, there are undoubtedly films that could reasonably be considered superior to Saving Private Ryan. From influential classics to modern masterpieces, there will never be any shortage of amazing war films that cross over almost every genre.
War movies can be contemplative character studies, like The Thin Red Line, which premiered the same year as Saving Private Ryan and competed with it at the Academy Awards. They can be action-packed adventures, like Where Eagles Dare, which Spielberg has cited as one of his favorite war films and which he had originally intended to mimic for Saving Private Ryan before deciding on a more grounded and gritty approach that would more accurately reflect the experiences of the veterans he had interviewed. Sometimes, war movies can even veer into unexpected genres, like comedy, as Spielberg himself did for his notorious box office bomb, 1941, or even science fiction like Slaughterhouse-Five. None of these movies is better than Saving Private Ryan, but they illustrate just how elastic the war genre can be, and we haven’t even gotten to movies that aren’t set during World War II. War movies can be thrilling, terrifying, sad, profound and even funny. Saving Private Ryan does all of those things, but these three movies do them better.
‘Lawrence of Arabia’ (1962)
World War I movies aren’t nearly as ubiquitous as those set during World War II, but those that have been made about it are no less enthralling. There’s the technically impressive 1917, the emotionally devastating documentary They Shall Not Grow Old, two equally compelling adaptations of All Quiet on the Western Front, and Stanley Kubrick‘s towering masterpiece Paths of Glory. All are films worthy of praise, but if there’s one WWI movie better than Saving Private Ryan, it’s David Lean‘s epic Lawrence of Arabia. Based on the life of T.E. Lawrence, and more specifically, the exploits detailed in his autobiography Seven Pillars of Wisdom. The film is often cited as the greatest ever made, and if you don’t want to take our word for it, you can take Spielberg’s. The director has referred to Lean’s film as his favorite on many occasions and has even said that it was the film that inspired him to become a filmmaker himself. Without Lawrence of Arabia, it’s entirely possible that Saving Private Ryan would have never been made.
Peter O’Toole gives an iconic performance as Lawrence, bringing charisma and a razor’s edge tension to his portrayal of the man during his time as a lieutenant during the First World War, where he played an instrumental role in the Arab Revolt in the Middle Eastern theater. The film is directly focused on Lawrence, specifically his growing disillusionment with the war as well as his interpersonal relationships, most notably that with Sherif Ali, a composite character played by Omar Sharif. The film’s historical authenticity has been subject to much criticism by historians and those who knew Lawrence, but there is no discounting the effectiveness of O’Toole’s performance, the stunning visuals by cinematographer Freddie Young, or Lean’s dynamic direction. Beyond the content of the film itself, its immense impact on cinema at large is immeasurable. As with the aforementioned influence on Spielberg, the film’s footprint can be found in the oeuvre of directors like George Lucas, Martin Scorsese, Kathryn Bigelow, and George Miller. In purely visual terms, Lawrence of Arabia‘s impact has rippled through generations of directors and their respective films, and it has few, if any, cinematic equals.
‘Apocalypse Now’ (1979)
The Vietnam War, and its detrimental effect on the national psyche of America, inspired a great many filmmakers to develop many dark and psychologically disturbing films about it and the soldiers who fought it. Oliver Stone used his experiences during the war for Platoon and Born on the Fourth of July, while Brian De Palma‘s disturbing Casualties of War was based on a real-life incident of rape and murder, and Stanley Kubrick deconstructed the psychological journey of young recruits through boot camp and battle in the iconic Full Metal Jacket. The authenticity of each of those films has been endlessly debated, and while there is very little of Francis Ford Coppola‘s Apocalypse Now that could be considered a realistic depiction of war, it is easily the most harrowing and effective at communicating the corrosive effect of war on the hearts of men. Inspired by the colonial novella Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, the film was written by the eccentric and legendary filmmaker John Milius with the intent that George Lucas would direct.
Lucas would later drop out in favor of making Star Wars, and Coppola came on board, leading to one of the most notoriously problematic productions in film history, with shooting lasting for over a year, but the results speak for themselves in what is a napalm-soaked epic masterpiece. Loosely updating Conrad’s plot, the film follows Captain Willard (Martin Sheen), who is ordered to terminate the fanatical Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando), with extreme prejudice. Joining a riverboat patrol, Willard embarks on a surreal and violent journey as the war wages on around him. Brando’s weight gain forced Coppola to film the actor in heavy shadow, adding a mythic quality to the character and to the climax of the film itself. Apocalypse Now has often been cited as Coppola’s grandest masterpiece, a film about men existing on the edge of sanity influenced by the madness that surrounded every facet of its production. It’s a vastly different kind of war film from the more conventional Saving Private Ryan, but it is no less effective and is far more psychologically unsettling.
‘Schindler’s List’ (1993)
Sometimes, the only filmmaker to do it better than Spielberg is Spielberg himself. While there’s no doubting the effectiveness of Saving Private Ryan in depicting the heroism and brotherhood of men in combat, it simply pales in comparison to the overwhelming heroism and compassion confronting abject evil in Spielberg’s masterpiece, Schindler’s List. The Holocaust is one of the greatest atrocities in modern human history, and its depiction has alternately been disquieting, in films like The Zone of Interest, and sophomorically exploitative, as in Life is Beautiful. Yet, no film has been as emotionally affecting or visually arresting as Spielberg’s masterpiece. An adaptation of the novel Schindler’s Ark by Thomas Keneally, which itself was based on the true story of Nazi industrialist turned humanitarian Oskar Schindler, the film was developed by Spielberg for almost a decade as he continually tried to find other directors to take it on, afraid that he wasn’t a mature enough filmmaker to make it. He eventually decided to direct it in response to the rise of Holocaust deniers and neo-Nazism, intending for the film to be both a memorial and a stark reminder to audiences.
Liam Neeson plays Schindler, a wealthy industrialist whose connections within the Nazi party have allowed him to flourish. He intends to make a large fortune through an enamelware factory in the Kraków Ghetto, which employs a great number of Jewish employees at the behest of Schindler’s advisor, Itzhak Stern (Ben Kingsley). After witnessing the liquidation of the ghetto’s neighborhoods and the murders of many of the residents, as well as the atrocities that continue to occur under the supervision of Amon Göth, played with contemptible evil by Ralph Fiennes, Schindler decides to dedicate all his future efforts towards saving as many Jewish victims as possible. Spielberg’s use of melodrama was condemned by certain academics and even fellow filmmakers, who accused him of exploiting the tragedy of the Holocaust, but there’s a blunt effectiveness the film has in communicating the casual cruelty and inhumanity perpetrated by the Nazis and allowed by the indifference of nations. Schindler’s List makes starkly plain the horrors of the Holocaust without ignoring the humanity of those who lost their lives, and it does it more effectively and efficiently than most other mediums are able to. It’s an important film, and it is without a doubt Spielberg’s best, easily eclipsing Saving Private Ryan.