Year after year - even over a hundred years after its end - Britain’s dedication to reminding its public of the horror of World War One remains resolute. Just as it is keenly felt in the exchange of pound sterling for a plastic poppy at a London train station, so too is it hammered home by the country’s media. Without fail, there’s always a film about the Great War showing on one of the terrestrial channels during Remembrance Sunday, or at least coverage of the ceremony at the Cenotaph. And even if you manage to avoid both of those, there was always a high-school history teacher on hand to put you through watching Oh What A Lovely War! in your teenage years. But be it through ceremony or mandatory movie-viewing, the point of the ritual was always the same: to remind us that war is terrible -- particularly for the working class, who are usually the ones made to sign up and bear the brunt and bayonet of it.

It’s a pity, then, to see just how much this message has become lost in our current political climate. The poppy has become less about a decrial of conflict, and more a celebration of militaristic nationalism. Certainly, the War to End All Wars wound up being anything but that, and the honoring of those who still serve in the current day must be upheld. But that’s no excuse for our acts of remembrance to slide away from denouncing the abject folly of combat. So it’s a good thing that we have movies like 1917 continuing to show up in theaters. After all, there’s no better way to hammer home an anti-war message than shoving it up on the big screen and completely blowing the viewer away with it.

‍1917 also has some pedigree to go with its traditional war-genre histrionics. It was nominated for ten Academy Awards and won three of them, and on initial impression, there’s little wonder why. It seems to tick all the right boxes for current critical tastes: plentiful British acting, cutting-edge cinematography and that one-shot format that seems to win Oscars by the dozen these days. But underneath all the modern technique there’s still a tense and emotional tale on display here -- one that carries as much of its drama in its beautifully-shot landscapes as it does in the pathos of its cast. It also comes from a very personal place in director Sam Mendes’ own life as it re-tells a tale that his grandfather recalled of his time in his service in WW1. In essence, there’s a combination here of a personal angle, tremendous production quality and a talented director at the helm -- all the makings of a potential all-time war movie classic, you might think. And the fact that it falls just short of that doesn’t mean it’s still not a gripping watch. It’s just one that, if you think back on the greats of the genre, might just feel like more of the same.

At the very least though, 1917 is never dull. Cynics might argue that the one-shot format is a gimmick starting to wear thin, but the immediateness in how Mendes’ work grabs your attention quashes that theory. From the very first shot of dozing Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield getting woken up to report to their commanding officer, we already know we’re going to be in for a long, rough ride. As they trudge through the trenches to answer their summoning, we also get a full view of the sheer numbers that they’re with -- soldiers every bit as wary as they are, resigned to either in-fighting with each other, or gallows’ humor at their own plight. There is admittedly little action in the film’s opening scenes, but the way it paints the portrait of the regular WW1 soldier is where it is initially compelling. Just as there is time for the heroism that the movie’s genre demands, so too is there time for the human aspect, be that the facing of fear in adversity, or the odd quip about trench rats, bad rations or medals swapped for wine.

But most importantly, there is also that most critical element of period war dramas on display: brotherhood. Blake (Chapman) and Schofield (MacKay) are an easy duo to empathize with -- unassuming soldiers forced into a war demanded by the British ruling class with little say of their own in the matter, and a knowing that the odds of making it home for good are heavily stacked against them. In the case of the disillusioned Schofield this might be a wry blessing in disguise. One particular scene involves the more upbeat Blake’s admission that command has cancelled his leave from the frontline; Schofield merely responds that it’s easier not to go back. It’s a taut reply given the right emotional weight by MacKay, and it’s a poignant one. And it’s also one of the numerous moments that 1917 uses to not only promote its protagonists’ own thoughts on a return to home life, but also the angst of so many soldiers being given such fleeting chances and still knew a return to the horror of the battlefield was never far away.

Nonetheless, it’s important to note that the dynamic between the pair isn’t necessarily steeped in misery but more a dark acceptance of the absurdity of their mission. Their own differences play a major factor, too -- Blake’s chin-up approach to getting to the 2nd Battalion (especially given that his own brother serves there) certainly conflicts with Schofield’s downcast outlook, but it ultimately provides the guiding motivation for the latter’s own path in the film. Mutually, Schofield provides a necessary groundedness to counter Blake’s own naivete, especially when they inevitably stumble into the traps that German territory constantly provides for them. It’s a compromising balance, but an engaging bond and the work of both Chapman and especially MacKay to instill a sense of vulnerability into their roles certainly contributes to the film’s more dramatic moments.

Even with all the bleak camaraderie though, 1917 still relies on the tricks of the war film to deliver its flashpoints, and many of them are truly magnificent. There are long-panning shots of war-torn plains, torrential gunfire and plenty of ear-numbing explosions all in the name of entertainment, and the one-shot camera work ensures that all of these things are coming toward the viewer as often as they can. It’s frequently edge-of-the-seat stuff, and in one pivotal scene involving Blake and Schofield watching a biplane dogfight above them, it even has the potential to take you right off of it.

And even away from the main action sequences the cinematography remains incredible. The protagonists’ march through ‘no mans land’ at the beginning seems lifted out of the photographs of the time: a silent, seemingly endless gray swamp of barb-wire, shell craters and abandoned dead. One fraught escape through a bombarded, ablaze Belgian town also shows off some fantastic light work, turning the scene into a disorienting cavalcade of fire, silhouettes and yelling voices that conjure the feeling of a maddening descent into hell. The visuals continuously enthrall and appall, and legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins thoroughly deserves the Oscar for his work here. Even with his already impressive list of triumphs, (True Grit, Skyfall and Blade Runner 2047 to name just a few recent ones), 1917 is another visual feat of mastery for him. Thanks to his guidancedoesn’t just capture the tragedy of WW1 -- it captures all of its misery, chaos and even its morbid beauty, too.

As a technical masterpiece of a war film though, 1917 is already in good company -- and that is exactly its biggest shortcoming. Recently we’ve had Dunkirk and the decade before we had The Hurt Locker and Letters From Iwo Jima. And even works like Saving Private Ryan and Band of Brothers haven’t entirely faded from memory. Certainly 1917 matches all of these in both its epic scale and dramatic impact, but when all is said and done, it doesn’t really provide anything greater. Further still, it doesn’t really expand the depth of its characters beyond its main two. Benedict Cumberbatch has a memorable cameo as the Second Battalion’s commander, offering up a necessary monologue summing up the saber-rattling ignorance of the British command of the time. But beyond that -- and part of this is probably down to just how much of a thunderous experience the film’s second half ends up being -- it’s easy to forget that Colin Firth or Richard Madden were also in the film. The same goes for the rest of the cast. One major twist halfway through might provide a good reason for this, but anyone expecting this to be a tale of conflict faced by a sizeable group of soldiers ‘in it together’ will be disappointed: this film focuses on its two main characters, and them alone.

Still, 1917 manages to fulfill its duty with flying colours. As a war film, it is a breathless experience, with scenery and shots that will stick with the viewer long after it’s done. As an anti-war film it is also acceptably, predictably heart-wrenching, and very few films depicting World War One have come close to the level of visual horror or despair that this movie lays itself out on. But it succeeds the most in its portrayal of those who fought in the war: neither overtly heroic nor made useless with fear, rather just men who were made to fight with all the courage and determination that they had for their families back home. And that, above all, is a feat worth the somber tribute that this film extravagantly provides.