The madness and futility of war is a theme artists have returned to again and again throughout history. There is as much inherent drama in watching the political machinations, back-room hand-wringing and fatal decisions as there is training an eye upon the home-front, watching the lives of soldiers torn apart by their time in the trenches. Rare is the film which can skillfully fuse the two, revealing the people affected on both sides of the war, the political and the personal.

Lord Richard Attenborough's bravura directorial debut, Oh! What a Lovely War is one such film, a spiritual antecedent to Mike Nichols' adaptation of Joseph Heller's Catch-22 a few years later -- adapted from a cult British stage play, Oh! What a Lovely War views World War I through a surreal haze, smashing together dance-hall anthems from turn-of-the-century Blighty with a grim, nihilistic sense of realism. With the sublime, inspired metaphor of war-as-carnival, Attenborough and his screenwriter Len Deighton (working from Charles Chilton and Joan Littlewood's musical play) stage World War I on a pier in Brighton, watching as the fine young men of the Smith family engage in conflict and meet their demise in the fields and forests of France and Germany. The film floats from something approaching reality to fantastical fusions of song, dance and political maneuvering, eschewing graphic violence for the unexpectedly poignant usage of blood-red poppies to signify death. Many of the film's most searing moments are both exhilarating and deeply, profoundly sad -- witness the short sequence fueled by the bittersweet "Goodbye" -- which makes Oh! What a Lovely War a truly exceptional experience, casting a glance at the insanity and futility of war through a most off-kilter point of view.

The film's most crucial element is its sprawling ensemble cast boasting a who's who of British cinema -- Attenborough secured appearances from the likes of John Mills, Corin Redgrave, Ian Holm, Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Dirk Bogarde, Michael Redgrave, Vanessa Redgrave, Maggie Smith, Susannah York, Kenneth More and Ralph Richardson, often for next to no pay -- all of whom lend weight and tremendous credibility to this ambitious, risky and tonally tricky work; it would've been quite easy for Oh! What a Lovely War to slip into parody or, worse, camp (a fear mentioned in the supplemental documentary) but thanks to the peerless professionalism and talent of his cast, Attenborough has instead crafted one of the Sixties' most potent anti-war films, one that has somewhat slipped through the cracks of popular attention, but will hopefully find a loving, wide audience with its issue on DVD.

From the spare, evocative opening credits to the shattering, seemingly endless final shot, Oh! What a Lovely War is, throughout, confident and controlled, owing much to the skill of Attenborough, whose debut behind the camera belies his relative lack of experience, as does the film's truly cinematic feel, as opposed to seeming stagy, having fallen prey to a common affliction of stage-to-silver-screen adaptations. A tour-de-force of juxtapositions -- bleak, cynical anti-war sentiments and jarring images pressed up against jaunty, Technicolor tunes -- Oh! What a Lovely War is a cult Sixties classic and above all, a clear-eyed, well-mannered scream into the abyss.

The Video:

Oh! What a Lovely War bows on DVD with a fairly clean, sharp 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer -- there are a few instances of softness and grain, as well as a little shimmer (most notably in the opening titles and early minutes of the film) but overall, considering the age of the film, Paramount has done a respectable job cleaning it up.

Regrettably but expectedly, only a Dolby 2.0 stereo soundtrack is on board; a work filled with larger-than-life songs and plenty of battlefield activity, Oh! What a Lovely War cries out for a robust sonic remastering. Alas, Paramount has included what was likely the original track and eschewed updating it. Dialogue (spoken and sung) is heard clearly, free of distortion, and only occasionally do SFX, music or speech (mostly in the higher registers) become abrasive and a little blown out. Again, like the visuals, this could've been more impressive but it also could've been much worse. Optional English subtitles are also included.

Paramount has rightly assembled supplementary material that compliments the film's terrific achievements, but did, maddeningly, leave room for a bit more information that would make this a truly special edition. The main attraction here is a warm, passionate commentary track with Attenborough holding forth for much of the film's two hour, 20 minute run time. His affection for this, his debut directorial outing, is evident and he relays a lot of interesting tidbits. Working in tandem with his commentary is a somewhat adulatory, if slightly inert, but nevertheless fascinating documentary that can be played as a roughly 75-minute whole or in three separate sections: "Welcome to World War I," "The Smith Family Album" and "Keep The Home Fires Burning."

From the spare, evocative opening credits to the shattering, seemingly endless final shot, Oh! What a Lovely War is, throughout, confident and controlled, owing much to the skill of Richard Attenborough, whose debut behind the camera belies his relative lack of experience. A tour-de-force of juxtapositions -- bleak, cynical anti-war sentiments and jarring images pressed up against jaunty, Technicolor tunes -- Oh! What a Lovely War is a cult Sixties classic and above all, a clear-eyed, well-mannered scream into the abyss.Highly recommended.