The exact moment when it happened isn’t clear, but at some point in the past, the general narrative shifted from portraying war as something to be celebrated (as was conventional), into representing it as a far more daunting, terrifying concept, particularly in the artistic sphere, moving away from lamenting the heroic actions of bloodthirsty conquerors and warlords, and their legions of followers who they used as a display of their empirical strength. Ballads of enormous battles were eventually replaced with harrowing accounts of the ravages of warfare, and the eventual emergence of a more intricate demonstration of the psychological tolls of being involved in violent conflict. This doesn’t mean there aren’t still numerous occasions of some artists romanticizing war in some way, but rather the fact that the general sentiment has gone towards the darker side of the neverending violence. Since the second half of the previous century, French cinema has often focused on the Algerian War of Independence, a bloody conflict that was recent enough in European history to still evoke fresh perspectives – and recently, Lucas Belvaux ventured into this war by making Home Front (French: Des Hommes), the beautifully unsettling psychological odyssey that focuses on the trials and tribulations of a group of men, now well into their old age, being forced to relive the terrors of the past through the memories that have never left them since they were young men traversing the streets of Algeria, inspiring as much terror as they were gleaning experience on a side of the socio-cultural divide that many glamourize in theory, but would never want to experience ever again after having been present for some of the darkest days of their young lives. Belvaux’s film is certainly not perfect, and is by no means the definitive work on the war (especially considering French, or in this case, Belgian, cinema has done valiant work in capturing different perspectives on the conflict over the past half-century in a wide array of films), but rather another terrific entry into a genre that benefits massively from an approach that shifts attention away from the gory details or wider scope, and instead hones in on the complex emotions felt by the very individuals whose stories are being told.

As can be expected, there is very little place for balladeering in Home Front, a film that hinges on its director’s outright refusal to glorify the war in any way, instead taking on a much more complex range of issues. This isn’t even a matter of the hackneyed approach of many modern war films that focus on celebrating the individual, reviling the circumstances – the soldiers at the core of this film aren’t scrappy young upstarts who are thrown into a position no one should ever hope to experience, and where their innocence comes into conflict with the harsh reality of war. Instead, they’re cynical characters whose actions are a direct reaction to their circumstances, which is doubtlessly exacerbated by the tensions brought on by their surroundings. This isn’t a bittersweet elegy for the soldiers who either lost their lives, or were permanently scarred by what they saw decades before, but a cutthroat psychological thriller that doesn’t villainize its characters, but also doesn’t create a situation where we’re forced into relating to them, or excusing their brutal actions as being the result of desperation. Not the game-changing war epic that some may expect, but rather an intimate, character-driven drama that takes place mostly within the memories of its major characters, Home Front is a triumph. While it may not have the scope of some similarly-themed films, it does carry an enormous wealth of meaning when we cut it down to a series of moments that may feel disjointed at first, but gradually grow to have even more meaning when presented all together. The director employs a steady tone that may not always be particularly pleasant, but is the exact kind of tone this story needed – unflinching, honest and often quite unsettling, Home Front is a profoundly moving film that compensates for its erratic approach to the material with an intimacy often outright avoided in war films, especially those that aren’t willing to have the difficult discussions at all.

Looking at Home Front from this perspective, one would easily think Belvaux made an incredibly cynical, heartless film that refuses to look at war as anything but a blight on history. This is true, but only to an extent, since there is a clear sense of heartfulness that pervades throughout the film, a delicate approach to the subject matter that doesn’t at all idealize the circumstances, but finds a poeticism in the moments between violence. The film has quite an interesting approach to its material, whereby it starts as a present-day drama (where the central trio of Gérard Depardieu, Jean-Pierre Darroussin and Catherine Frot, are the most prominent forces), with occasional flashbacks to the past – and midway through, the older versions of these characters mostly fade into the background as the past envelopes the films, now suddenly the driving force, rather than supplementary to the contemporary context. This allows the film to have a genuinely moving discussion on memory – the erratic behaviour of its characters at the start, which is left as a mystery for almost the entire film, is eventually solved through a series of inner monologues, which gradually begin to overlap, and soon becomes a conversation, each offering different perspectives and interpretations on events that would normally be portrayed under a single party line, normally those found in history books and triumphant celebrations of the valiant troops. Home Front proves that multiple perspectives are necessary in providing a thorough portrait of a particular set of events – and despite its naturally combative nature, the approach is far from being contradictory. It’s a tricky concept to pull off without coming across as overwrought, or even convoluted – but the sheer audacity of it, coupled with the very simple approach, makes for absolutely riveting viewing. Putting memories across from each other is a tactic not many manage to do without coming into problems in film, since it can lead to unnecessary conflict – but when it succeeds, it’s almost revelatory, since it weaves an unforgettable tapestry of one of modern history’s most brutal conflicts, taken from the perspective of those who had first-hand accounts of the war, or at least in this fictional world that Belvaux has constructed.

Simplicity is the primary factor that guides this film – Belvaux has often relied on a more straightforward approach to his material, and while he may be better known for films with a smaller-scope, there was no reason to believe that his attempt at tackling the Algerian War would be much of a departure. Shifting between the past and the present is such a common theme with this kind of film, it’s not enough to qualify Home Front as being a great film just on that account – instead, we find value in what Belvaux does with some promising material. Whether it be extracting some terrific performances from his actors (Gérard Depardieu and Jean-Pierre Darroussin are doing very effective work – neither are redefining themselves as actors, but their unique sensibilities help in bringing these complex characters to life, and they’re wonderfully complemented by the terrific Catherine Frot, who is absolutely heartbreaking in the film), or taking a path that may be incredibly controversial – such as in its portrayal of Algerians – the film has a very distinct tone that works in contrast with the war genre overall. Diving deep into the psychologies of aged soldiers is fertile ground for some fascinating discussions, and Belvaux doesn’t pass up any opportunity to launch into the roots of their trauma. The only real flaw with Home Front is that it becomes too imbalanced in its perspective by the end – the first act is a masterful oscillation between past and present, but by the time the tension has settled down, the older versions of these characters are almost forgotten about, instead existing as nearly silent characters who function as duelling narrators. It was clearly an intentional choice, and it works well in showing the power of memory – and the actors in the older roles are gifted enough to make it worth watching all on their own. Not a groundbreaking approach, but when it finds its stride, there is some fascinating commentary to be found in every corner of this film.

There’s a lot simmering below the surface of Home Front, which benefits massively from its director’s constant insistence on taking a path that gives the viewer invaluable insights into a war we’ve all doubtlessly encountered at some point, but rarely from a place of intimacy. Despite being a fictional work, there is a hard-hitting authenticity to this film, which comes from a premise that emphasizes the more realistic aspects of such events – there’s very little place for jingoistic musings in a film like this, especially when the primary concern isn’t to look into the machinations of the Algerian War (which is actually not as prominent as one would imagine), but rather the individual experiences of these young men as they venture into violent conflict, uncertain of whether they’ll live to tell the tale, or meet their fate along the way. War films the focus more on the role memory plays in informing the lives of veterans after they return home are often the most interesting, since the specific events don’t matter all that much, but the emotional connection they have to the experience make for very compelling, if not incredibly heartbreaking, viewing. It’s a peculiar way of making a film, but it manages to be wonderfully expressive in its defiance against conventions. It takes its time in allowing this story to unravel, and gets to the central point of contention without much hesitation, instead of opting for a film that hit all the familiar beats without demonstrating any real depth. It can sometimes be a brutal film – Belvaux doesn’t dare flinch away from the horrendous details that serve as the basis for much of the film, showing them often explicitly and without much warning. It makes this a harrowing experience, a film that goes in pursuit of something stark, and emerges triumphant in almost all regards, even if the ordeal of sitting through it can sometimes be incredibly challenging.