Front Line: Hollywood

WAR IS HELL. YOU'VE HEARD IT said many times by shell-shocked servicemen, cynical sargeants and sunglassed supreme commanders. To judge from history, armed conflict has been humanity's favorite pastime, using everything imaginable: primitive wooden spears, bronze swords and shields, grenade launchers, cutting remarks, Agent Orange, frying pans and other domestic appliances, and tiny atoms which go boom in a big way. Yet one has to wonder why, if war is to be conceived as an unpleasant phenomenon, we humans spend so much time and effort thinking up excuses to get embroiled in it.

Well, Dewitt can assure you that, despite its frequency and general popularity, war is indeed hell. Not that Dewitt has actually fought in one, prefering as he does to follow the example of Monty Python's Sir Robin and bravely run away. Dewitt has, however, seen several years' worth of war films including the Reagan classic Hellcats Of The Navy, a must-see for devotees of our main man's foreign policy. Unfortunately, Hellcats is not playing anywhere around Boston this week, but there are several other worthwhile alternatives.

The best of the lot is Taxi Driver (Lowell House), a 1976 academy-award nominee directed by Martin Scorcese. The war in this film Vietnam, from which one Travis Bickle has just returned. Although Travis, played by Robert (fuckin') DeNiro, was not physically injured during his tour of duty, some essential mental functions are decidedly absent, as in, "lights on, nobody home." Having gotten a job as a cab driver, Travis has ample opportunity to observe the filth (animate and inanimate) that permanently infests New York City. Confronted with a grimy and desperate reality, the earnest hack prophesies: "Some day a good rain's gonna come wash the shit from these streets."

DeNiro's character, it turns out, is just that kind of rain. Shaving his head, toning up his muscles and donning an arsenal of firearms, Travis sets off to do battle with the Big Apple and rescue a child prostitute, played by Jodie Foster. Although this film contains none of the directorial trickery of later. Scorcese classics like Raging Bull, gutsy realism and DeNiro's superb characterization make Taxi Driver an eloquent and powerful expression of an individual's rage against society.

Also dealing indirectly with war but far less blunt is Casablanca (Brattle Theater). Probably the most famous film of all time, Casablanca actually has an illogical and melodramatic plot, centering around a cynical American (Humphrey Bogart) who runs into an old flame (Ingrid Bergman) from his days in Paris. Under the influence of the striking young woman, Rick progresses from a selfish and apolitical bar-owner to a member of the French resistance against the Nazis. Though lacking the chemistry of Bogart and Bacall, Bogie and Bergman turn this rickety plot into a timeless film about sacrificing personal interest for one's ideals. When Dewitt first saw this film, shortly after its 1942 release, he was so inspired that he went down to his local post office to enlist.

Fortunately, common sense intervened, and Dewitt was able to preserve his majestic form unscathed and unpunctured. This survival enabled him to continue viewing classic pictures, among which is The Marriage of Maria Braun (Somerville Theater). Directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder, this 1978 film tells the tale of post-World-War-II Germany through the life of the title character. A ruthlessly ambitious but visually stunning woman, Maria Braun (Hanna Schygulla) starts off her career as a whore, servicing American soldiers, blackmarketeers and anyone else who has cash. Braun quickly moves up in the world, settling in with a business firm, only to blow her self to bits accidently in the end.

As with all Fassbinder films, The Marriage of Maria Braun is slow-paced and often confusing Despite some sluggishness, however, the lush colors used to capture often horrible scenes are visually fascinating. Even when you don't know what's going on, you become entranced by the mere look of the film. Also, Schygulla's performance is excellent: she's alternately the Virgin Mary in slut's garter belt or Bloody Mary wearing a false halo. At its core, The Marriage of Maria Braun is a story of the mental and moral devastation of war, told in a fashion much like "Alice In Wonderland."

With three quality war pictures offered this week, Dewitt wonders why anyone would go to see St. Elmo's Fire (Science Center C), an idiotic film about the conflicts of several young people just out of college. Along with a painfully awful script, St. Elmo's features the undistinguished acting of such screen luminaries as Rob Lowe, Demi Moore, Andrew McCarthy and, of course, Judd Nelson. One of the ludicrous features of this flick is that it is billed as an "ensemble" piece, ensemble being used here to signify several uninteresting storylines which are connected with no common theme and only the most superficial circumstance. A more ludicrous feature is the fact that the makers of this turkey used a wretched single by a heretofore unknown potbelly (John Parr) as the title theme, when a great song of the appropriate title by Brian Eno was available. The most ludicrous feature, however, is that a nauseating effort like St. Elmo's Fire (both movie and song) was a big hit.

As for Dewitt, he'll take Hellcats of the Navy any day. Not only a gripping story of a daring submarine captain (Ron Reagan) fighting the evil Japanese, Hellcats gave Ron and Nancy (nee Davis) a chance to meet and fall in love. Moreover, it was films like this that gave our future Chief Executive a chance to develop the extensive knowledge of world affairs and international conflict he has today. What more could you ask for? A real live war?