Memory is a tricky thing. Often in today’s society, there is a tendency for us all to focus on the grand monuments to heroism like the Meningate and the Cenotaph, forgetting the terrible suffering behind those that gave their lives for this country. It is here, I believe, that cinema has an important role to play in helping us to address war’s place in our history.

Cinema too often falls back on grand sweeping narratives of the heroism of war, men overcoming adversity to claim victory. It is precisely the fact that it moves away from this stereotype that makes David Ayer’s latest film Fury very important. Taking the unusual perspective of a tank crew, Ayer should be praised for his new stance in the well-trodden territory of World War Two cinema. The film uses a stellar cast, helmed by a grizzly Brad Pitt, to portray the barren and deadly wasteland of Germany in the final push of 1945. Too often our narratives of the war skip straight from D-Day to the end of the war with the collapse of Berlin. Ayer uses exceptionally bleak cinematography to shock the viewer into recognising the fanatical resilience of the German people to fight on; scenes of killed teenage German soldiers are heart-wrenching moments, particularly at this time of global remembrance. It is important for films to continue to show such respect to the fallen. Directors that indulge too heavily in action risk glorifying the pursuit of victory.

An example of cinema’s respectful role in remembrance comes in films on the Holocaust. The bland, black and white visuals of Schindler’s List gave the terror a resonating power, portraying the bleakness of the Jewish sense of isolation away from the Allies for so much of the war. Equally, the dystopian shot of the German soldier inserting the hydrogen cyanide into the gas chamber in Boy with the Striped Pyjamas still remains for me one of the most striking scenes of any war film.

It is important, however, that directors do not take this too far, and shy away from portraying the truth of war. Hollywood’s war cinema in the mid-20th century lacked the emotional power of later efforts of the conflict. The Great Escape, whilst an excellent film, does little to really portray  the terrible risks for those that escaped. The scene of Steve McQueen’s character riding towards the border is iconic, but steals attention from the terrible fate suffered by 50 of the escapees. War is as much about the fallen as the survivors, and modern Hollywood cinema is at last beginning to portray something of the terrible reality of war–even straying into the uneasy territory of the First World War with War Horse.

Pitt’s character in Fury has a line that summarises perfectly the heart of understanding any war: “ideas are peaceful, history is violent.” Every year we remember the dead in scenes of grand fashion. Leaders march up to monuments and lay wreaths. Everyone buys poppies as a sign of remembrance. The world falls silent at 11 o’clock on the 11th day of the 11th month. This is all an important focal point for our annual cycle of remembrance. I would say, however, that this should not be at the expense of forgetting the horror that feeds this grand ceremony. Men died and suffered so that we could live free. Realistic works of cinema such as Saving Private Ryan and more surreal films like Apocalypse Now are crucial in highlighting the violence that made up most wars. Too often politicians focus heavily on the sweeping narratives of war, making it into nothing more than an artifice of patriotism. Wars are won by people, and cinema must never falter from reflecting that.