The Dirty Dozen
Imitated with the aid of many and bettered through none, robert aldrich’s the dirty dozen is the best guys-on-a-project film no longer because it has the best movement sequences—even though the final showdown between the dozen and german forces on the french chateau is a excellent little bit of mayhem—but as it so capably unearths a balance between nihilistic fun and viewer funding in its characters’ welfare.
The first two-thirds is full of goofery, as a none-more-lee-marvin lee marvin whips a collection of unrepentant criminals (including charles bronson and john cassavetes, stealing each scene along with his jackal’s grin) into form for a undertaking in nazi-held france, however the final 1/3 has the movie take an abrupt flip, as our fascinating reprobates are picked off while slaughtering a house complete of partying germans—officers, their other halves and all. A quick, studio-lot, heroes-and-villains war film with a wickedly subversive tone and that nasty finale, the grimy dozen fascinatingly straddles the antique and new hollywood eras. 1967 become the 12 months things began to definitely shift in american cinema, and the grimy dozen’s queasy, morally murky climax proclaims the ocean change in wonderful style.