How appropriate that the full quote that expands upon the title of The Paths of Glory is that they “lead but to the grave.” Director Stanley Kubrick is brutally honest in this film of the horrors and absurdity of war as dictated by corrupt and self-serving leaders.
The black and white film cuts like a knife, splitting the dank and battered French trenches of World War I from the clean, white hallways of a palace from which the war is ultimately guided. The imagery of this 1957 masterpiece is crisp and unflinching, and so far ahead of the expansive Technicolor vision that would be Spartacus three years later.
There are few distinguishing marks of the director in the swords and sandals epic, whereas The Paths of Glory could be made by no other. His stamp is seen in the consistent yet never tired close up of a distraught character’s face while the rest of the scene is carefully choreographed in the background. Spatially, each actor fills a unique position in the painting, and yet there is no hint of a false scene. The realism of this film was ahead of its time, as it is less of a fanfare and more of a focused contemplation.
Another trademark of Kubrick’s is the clownish madness of those with power juxtaposed against the raw truthfulness of the worthy who are being trampled. George Macready’s Gen. Mireau initially espouses concern for the troops, but when backed into a corner considers his reputation far more valuable than the lives of thousands of his fellow countrymen. A 65 percent loss while attempting to gain control of the German Anthill is not only expected but acceptable. When the suicide mission fails and a cowardly leader refuses to join the battle, Mireau commands the killing of his own troops as punishment. When that instruction fails, he demands a courtmartialling that could result in innocent soldiers facing a firing squad.
Fighting for these men’s lives is Col. Dax, in the shape of a war-bruised Kirk Douglas. Unlike the spoiled palace commanders, Dax breaths the dusty air of the trenches and witnesses his own shell shocked troops. He doesn’t need to cheerily ask of his men if they’re "Ready to kill more Germans?" as Mireau does – he knows the answer.
Ralph Meeker leaves Kiss Me Deadly’s arrogant Mike Hammer behind to portray a courageous and fed up soldier who witnesses his lieutenant’s drunken incompetence and is penalized for it. In a story where everyone is punished for the sort of behavior for which they should be commended, and a firing squad is used as inspiration rather than a warning, it is no wonder that the war feels turned on its head.
Kubrick creates a harsh view of the war with a sympathy towards the fighting men. The enemies are never seen much less discussed, as there are already enemies within the ranks. In the glory of winning a battle, the souls sacrificed are inconsequential to the pin that will eventually affix to a general’s lapel.