One of those bizarre, counter-intuitive Hollywood films, in which Sinatra directed (and partially bankrolled) a morality tale about the futility of war and the obscureness of its causes. Narrated through a voiceover from the Japanese commander's perspective -- and there's a twist at the end -- we see the escalation of violence between a stranded planload of Marines (Sinatra is the salty Navy corpsmen who wants to be above it all) lead by a gung-ho but green lieutenant and the forgotten garrison of Japanese holding the island. There's a subtext here which sometimes is not so subtle, as the various bones of contention -- and violence -- between the two groups range from a water hole that neither group can get to without being shot at by the other, the means of escape from the island (a wooden boat, if you want your biblical symbolism), and ultimately meaningless concepts of honor. The film falters a bit at the end and is occasionally ham-fisted, but given the year (1965, well before the anti-war film had made a comeback in the US) and the social atmosphere of the times, it's a pretty remarkable little flick of its type. That it's Sinatra's only directorial effort will make it a must-see for his cinematic fans.
Review of None But the Brave
