All Quiet on the Western Front Goes Beyond the Trenches to Indict Warmongers
But the far looser adaptation loses some of the grunt's-eye view

I find that violence is very ambiguous in movies. For example, some films claim to be antiwar, but I don’t think I’ve really seen an antiwar film. Every film about war ends up being pro-war. — Francois Truffaut, in a 1973 interview in the Chicago Tribune.
I lived in Decatur, Illinois for a while, which has a major east-west street named after General John Pershing, commander of the expeditionary force in World War I. He’s memorialized in Washington, D.C. with a life-sized statue. And he faced a Congressional hearing for sending American soldiers into battle even though he was aware of the 11 A.M. armistice on November 11, 1918 that called for an end to the bullets and bombs and gas that had torn apart the face of France. Some 11,000 casualties were recorded on the day of the armistice, including 3,500 Americans. It’s possible some of them have a statue or a street named after them somewhere, I suppose, but Pershing was the only one who managed to live to enjoy all his shiny medals and die in bed 30 years later.
There are now, to my knowledge, three major screen adaptations of Erich Maria Remarque’s novel All Quiet on the Western Front. The first two were grim reflections of the wars of their time, and remain fascinating not just for their treatment of Remarque’s work, but for viewing them in the context of the time in which they were made: Lewis Milestone’s 1930 film landed in the precise middle of the two World Wars that forever reshaped Europe; Delbert Mann’s 1979 television adaptation inescapably called back to the Vietnam War. Edward Berger’s new adaptation, distributed by Netflix, is unique among these in that it’s actually a German-language and German-led production. Despite their clear dedication to paint a universalist picture of the futility and inhumanity of modern war, the previous productions were, on some level, putting an American spin on this tale. Berger (born in then-West Germany in 1970) is not.
It’s therefore somewhat perplexing that this adaptation ditches a lot of the particulars of the novel, widens its perspective characters to include top German brass, elides characters and even changes the particulars of major plot points to tell what amounts to an almost completely different story—one with a wider scope. By virtue of including two other characters, it makes an attempt to go beyond the trenches and indict the inhumanity of the people whose words cause wars. It’s wild, compared to the mostly faithful adaptations of the past. It also, inescapably, feels as if it’s more of a war film than the others, with more action scenes and necessarily less of an examination of the effect of war on the individual soldier. It’s a completely different perspective that is exceptionally well-shot and directed and raises its voice about Germany’s part of culpability for the war. It’s therefore profoundly frustrating that All Quiet on the Western Front, at times, bucks against Remarque’s thesis.
Right from the jump, Berger shows us that this will not be a totally faithful retread of the novel. It opens on a young German soldier in a trench at the front, and follows his last disastrous moments. Then, it follows his body, so quickly discarded. After that, we watch as the usable portions of his gear are laundered and repaired by stone-faced women and repackaged. The name tag on the uniform is still there when Paul Bäumer (Felix Kammerer, whose wide-eyed, skeletal look is perfect casting) eagerly receives it as he prepares to get shipped off as a new recruit.