Ever since I saw the first trailer for the movie Monuments Men, I knew I wanted to see the film. It appeared to have a perfect blend of action-adventure, historical accuracy, and stellar acting. Yet, while watching it, I wasn’t sure how to react. On the one hand, the characters felt like little bugs, scurrying around the scenes and accomplishing very little until the end. On the other hand, there were some spectacular lines and images that left a lasting impression on me.
Throughout the film, a lot of…nothing…happens. The plot centers around a man named Frank Stokes, played by George Clooney, who gets permission from President Roosevelt to organize a team of art collectors and historians to traverse Europe in an attempt to save as much of the world’s stolen art from the Germans as they can. They are also racing against the Russians, who want to find the art and keep it for themselves as reparation. By contrast, this eight-person American team, nicknamed the Monuments Men, wants to restore the art to their rightful owners. To maximize their chance, the team splits up—and this is where the cinematic mistakes begin.
In order to fully capture the extent of this historical story, the director needed to pan back and forth between the teams. Unfortunately, that meant that the viewers were never given the chance to develop an emotional attachment to any of the groups. True, everyone got their big moment: striking visuals, suspenseful music, displays of heroism and bravery, all creating some really effective scenes. But then, just as abruptly as the scene began, the audience was dragged away to watch another group explore their own “moment”. This constant movement never gave us the opportunity to watch any of the characters develop, and hence, they all lost their personality and distinctiveness. Each character blended into the other (I don’t think I even remember their names), leaving the viewer with a hodgepodge of drudgery that they had to wade through just to get to the end of the film.
Despite these downfalls, there were a number of redeeming qualities about the film. One of the most memorable instances was the young German soldiers setting fire to some of the paintings. You can’t help but feel emotion rising inside of you at the sense of loss. More personally, at one point the Monuments Men find a large barrel of gold teeth, and although not explicitly stated, it is obvious that these came from the Jews who were sent to die in Hitler’s concentration camps—that, to the Nazis, all the Jewish people boiled down to as a people was our gold. Our value lay, not in our rich culture, but in our physical and fleeting possessions.
This film included some very strong ideas that should leave a substantial mark on us today. Clooney tells the president, “We’re fighting for a culture, a way of life. You can wipe them out…[but] if you destroy their achievements, their history, it’s as if they never existed.” These men weren’t fighting for themselves, their country or their families. They were fighting for their culture; they were fighting for the delicate footprint that each generation leaves on this earth. They were fighting to maintain something that they believed was worth maintaining: a society, an achievement, a tradition, a way of life.
We all partake in the culture our societies have created for us: we live, eat, and breathe an air that is steeped with history and traditions. Broadway shows, movie theaters, historical landmarks are all part of a culture that we ourselves have helped create. We perpetuate this culture by partaking and indulging in it. And so now we need to ask ourselves: is this a culture worth maintaining? Are our cultural achievements worth sustaining? If the answer is yes, then we must assume the role of Monuments Men ourselves.