Joyeux Noel

Diane Kruger, Benno Fürmann, Guillaume Canet     

A young man has 18 or 19 years to figure out who he is.  The military has had centuries to figure out how to screw him up.  Here is the dirty little secret of warfare, the thing you will not see in most war movies and the armchair generals forget, most people cannot kill. Call in the image of god, DNA trying to protect the species, or civilization, there is something inside of human beings that, when we are look eye to eye at someone else, will not let us draw the sword, even if it is in our own self interest.  If you don’t believe me, just examine do a survey of ancient battles where gigantic armies clash.  The casualty rate in the actual battle is always low.  It is why Alexander the Great can march his troops against Darius’ army of 500,000, and only suffer 110 deaths.  Most casualties accrued in the retreat, when the enemy’s back is turned, and primitive instincts take over. (Think of your dog.  Even the friendliest pooch in the world will knock a child that is running away from it to the ground.)  Native Americans perfected the counting coo in which humiliating the enemy was more important that killing them.  In the aftermath of Gettysburg, when the dead were being removed from the field, it was found that most of soldiers never fired their weapons even though they were often in situations where they should have. This pattern continued into World War II when the US army found to its shock that only 1 out of 6 front line units squeezed their trigger.  It is why the military admits that only 2 to 5 percent of the population are “natural soldiers,” meaning they can kill the enemy without remorse or guilt.  It is why so many kids are going home from Iraq with psychological problems, and why the armed forces have works so hard at overcoming this natural bent and dehumanizing the enemy.  Yet, it also this inner disposition that gives me hope for humanity. 

    Nowhere is this spirit clearer that Christmas 1914 on the Western Front.  Much like today, war was romanticized and millions of young men marched off in August of that year to find glory. All of the generals and politicians on both sides predicted a short war, a few big battles and a march on the enemy’s capital.  What they found was a meat grinder, modern weapons turning age-old tactics into blood baths. Trenches were dug, often less than 30 yards form each other, and young men, many of whom had not experienced enough life to even lose their virginity, found themselves in the midst of a hell we cannot even imagine today and a lost generation was born. In the mud, disease, and the decaying bodies in the waterlogged trenches near Ypers, Belgium Christmas came even in the midst of war. December found young men on both sides decorating their trenches for the season.  Candles were placed in trees, ornaments placed here and there, a little piece of home to make hell a little more bearable.  Each side entertained themselves by singing Christmas carols on Christmas Eve.  Then something strange happened; as the Germans were singing Stille Nacht (Silent Night), the British joined in.  Soon Christmas greetings were being exchanged across No Man’s Land.  Then some of the braver individuals climbed out of the trenches and walked towards the enemy.  In the middle of the battlefield, British, Belgian, and German soldiers began to exchange gifts – whiskey, cigars, candy, playing cards, and the like.  The artillery fell silent.  The dead were gathered and given a proper burial with honor guards provided by both sides.  Soon the truce began to spread, as young warrior after young warrior, laid down their arms and crossed into No Man’s Land. Makeshift prayer services and even a soccer game broke out.  Men who had been barbers in civilian life gave haircuts and shaves to men on both sides.  There was even a juggler who performed for the entertainment of both sides.  Even though British and German commanders were beside them, this peace negotiated by young men who had had too much of war lasted until New Years.  In order to make sure such a thing never happened again, troops were rotated more often to keep them from getting familiar with the enemy and every Christmas Eve until the end of the war, generals ordered the artillery to increase its bombardment so that there would be no lulls in the fighting. Yet, as hard as they tried, commanders were never able to complete stamp out these informal peace treatises.

Joyeux Noel is the story of this truce.  The story centers on an Anglican priest named Palmer (Gary Lewis), a French Lieutenant Adebert (Guillaume Canet), and German named Nikolaus Sprink (Benno Fürmann), who in his civilian life was a tenor in the Berlin Opera.  Sprink’s girlfriend, Anna (Diane Kruger), a gifted soprano, has arranged to perform for the troops so to be with her boyfriend, even if it is only for one night.  Director Christian Carion presents a very simple mediation on peace.  It is an unforgettable film.  The stillness of the peace and the voices of Sprink and Anna are made all the more powerful by the nightmare of war that surrounds them. Along with V for Vendetta, this will easily be on my top ten films of the year list, but more importantly, even though much of the dialogue is in subtitles, I hope this film becomes a Christmas classic. 

Conservative commentator Bill O’Reilly likes to stir up the masses by taking an event here and there, some good-natured person trying to be inclusive by saying “happy holidays” instead of “merry Christmas,” and decries that there is a war waged against Christmas. Most of the time he twists the facts to keep his base feeling like victims, to keep them scared of a liberal bogeyman, to keep the people who cannot think for themselves in line, but he is right about Christmas being under siege, just not the way he thinks.  Christmas is the celebration of the birth of the Prince of Peace, the hope in a world without war both in our personal life and on the international level.  The O’Reillys, Hannitys, and Rushs of the world love to stir the pot, keep us from noticing that the other we are attacking is human, just like us, and these hate mongers have been at war with Christmas since the beginning of time. I believe that most people who hate homosexuals do so because they don’t know any.  The homeless are lazy because they have never broken bread with one.  All Arabs and Mexicans are bad because we are unable to put ourselves in their shoes. Yet, when a human face is put with a problem, when it is your child or someone you love, most people cannot draw their swords.  The last surviving veteran of the Christmas truce, Alfred Anderson, died last year, on November 21st, at the age of 109, but I believe the spirit he felt that season almost 92 years ago is still in the air.

Verdict: A Great Foreign Film