The 14 Best World War I Movies Ever Made

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World War One is underrepresented on the big screen, certainly in comparison to the Second World War. Although fought from 1914, the late entry of the U.S. in 1917 and their relatively small losses could be a factor in this. The bleak tragedy and hollow futility of the First World War compared to the second, which had a much clearer motive and offered more chances for gung-ho heroism, is another reason why it's not exactly Hollywood movie material.

For understandable reasons, most of the films on this list are British and several have literary origins, being based on novels and plays. With the centenary of the end of the First World War in 2018, it is starting to fade into the background and does not appear in media and culture so much. This is why preservation projects such as Peter Jackson's "They Shall Not Grow Old" are so important, as this war should remain alive and fresh in the collective memory, especially because there are so many lessons to be learned from it. These WWI films stretch from the 1920s to the 2010s, and each one reflects the time in which it was made. The layering of history through the prism of the decade viewing it is an important consideration here. Join us on a tour of almost a hundred years of World War I movies.

It never fails to astonish that perhaps THE best-known WWI film is an American movie made in 1930, which is set amongst a German regiment. It feels like "All Quiet on the Western Front" could have only happened at this precise point in time, portraying Germans sympathetically as humans affected by war just as much as the Allies. This is very much a "war is hell" film, showing the lack of food, the psychological torment coming from the men's own officers, as well as viscerally portraying their fear and disillusionment. 

One of the most well-known sequences is when protagonist Paul (Lew Ayres) stabs a French soldier but then stays with the dying man in a shell-hole throughout the night, wracked with guilt. It also shows the devastation and fear caused by injuries: The men would go to hospital and be terrified of having their limbs amputated, or convinced that they would never leave. Perhaps most importantly, "All Quiet on the Western Front" shows the propaganda being fed to schoolboys to whip up fervor for war and encourage recruitment. Both "Wings" and "All Quiet" reveal masculinity in a much more sensitive and vulnerable light than we've been led to believe men were allowed to be at the time, especially among soldiers. The bonds that form between enlisted men and the devastation when they lose their comrades is just one of so many hugely heart-breaking aspects of this war.

Before making the masterful WWII film "A Matter of Life and Death" in 1946, Powell & Pressburger made another war film in 1943 as an epic that covered the Boar War, the First World War, and the beginnings of the Second World War. At its center, "The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp" is about the enduring friendship between a British officer named Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) and a German one, Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). It's also a love story with Deborah Kerr, who plays three different women who coincidentally all look very similar.

For understandable reasons, it's hard to find any WWI films made in the 1940s, as the Second World War dominated that decade (and would go on to dominate war films up until this day). While the previous wars are very much being viewed through the lens of a world preoccupied with the war it's currently enduring, this makes for an interesting perspective, especially on the cyclical nature of war. It was obviously controversial for featuring a sympathetic German character, whose view of war is perhaps more understandable than that of the British officer who struggles to adapt with the times. Livesey's performance turns what could have been a ridiculous character into a beloved one, and Powell & Pressburger's signature Technicolor cinematography makes "Colonel Blimp" the masterpiece that it is.

It's hard to think of anything to say about David Lean's 1962's war epic that hasn't already been said. It's safe to say that "Lawrence of Arabia" was made for the biggest, widest screen possible. While many people have disputed both the film's historical accuracy and the depiction of T.E. Lawrence (played by an angelic-looking Peter O'Toole), the film is still a visually spectacular and emotionally stirring portrait of a man who wrestles with committing violent acts in the context of war.

"Lawrence of Arabia" encapsulates mirage onscreen, both the shimmering effect of the heat over the sand which makes Omar Sharif's Ali appear to be floating during his famously drawn-out entrance, as well as the concept of man-as-mirage. Lawrence becomes a myth during his own lifetime and we don't know if what we're seeing is real or the stuff of legend. Lean's close-up focus on O'Toole's Lawrence (such as the shot where he blows out a lit match), to the overwhelming expanse of desert (the famous smash-cut to the rising sun) are the director's twin fixations in this portrait. Lawrence's position within both place (the shifting geographical and political landscape), and time (how he will be viewed by history) are nebulous. "Lawrence of Arabia" is an important reminder that central European trenches weren't the only theater of WWI, and that war in one place can destabilize other regions. 

"Lawrence of Arabia" is a good reminder that a world war is exactly that, and the First World War didn't just take place in a few fields in France or Belgium. Britain got her whole commonwealth involved in the First World War, recruiting soldiers from the Caribbean, India, Canada, and Australia. "Gallipoli" is another example of the global reach of the war and that the arenas of battle could be quite different from the muddy trenches we're used to seeing. "Gallipoli" starts in a similar vein to "Chariots of Fire," with Archy (Mark Lee) and Frank (Mel Gibson) being competitive runners.

We see the fresh-faced recruits transported from Australia's outback, the promise of adventure shining in their eyes, to train under the shadows of the pyramids in Egypt. This is possibly the best section of the movie, with Frank rampaging through the bazaars on a mule, or them threatening a shopkeeper for their money back. Frank and Archy's friendship is well developed and we become invested in the characters. Peter Weir has always been an underrated director, and "Gallipoli" builds on the promise he showed in 1975's "Picnic at Hanging Rock." He effectively builds up to the heart-rending finale by calling back to the first act when Archy and Frank demonstrated their running skills. Weir leaves us on one of the most memorable, shattering final shots of any film, let alone a war film. 

WWI movies are few and far between, but the ones that focus predominantly on working-class characters are even rarer. "King and Country" from 1964 starring Tom Courtenay is a good example of one about a rebellious working-class man and is of its time when "angry young men" were all the rage. Likewise, "The Trench" provides the greatest range of working-class characters and regional accents. While several of the minor characters are played by future stars (Ben Whishaw, Cillian Murphy), the two main actors are Paul Nicholls and Danny Dyer, who were both in the British soap "EastEnders."

Another main character is James Bond himself, Daniel Craig, who plays an officer from Liverpool. He is pragmatic about war, having survived going over-the-top and knows the value of Dutch courage (pre-battle rum rations). A posh officer played by Julian Rhind-Tutt is an alcoholic who is trying to numb himself and shirk his leadership responsibilities. "The Trench" is not a prim-and-proper view of war, as there is much cursing and some graphic depictions of men being blown to bits. It also shows a war captured by moving pictures: We see a staged pre-battle speech for the benefit of the camera and there is even reference to the earliest days of pornographic films. "The Trench" shows a little-seen side of WWI that probably truly reflects those at the lowest ranks, and makes a refreshing change from films focusing on officers.

WWI films based on plays or novels are common, as the literature (most famously, the poetry) inspired by the "great" war is generally brilliant and heart-wrenching. Translating something from the confines of a stage, such as R.C. Sherriff's play "Journey's End," to the confines of trenches and dugouts works especially well, the claustrophobic tension is only enhanced by this format. "Journey's End" is almost entirely set in an officer's bunk, where Stanhope (Sam Claflin), Osborne (Paul Bettany), Trotter (Stephen Graham), and Hibbert (Tom Sturridge) are waited on by Mason (Toby Jones), who tries to make the best of the meager rations. 

Their relative peace ⁠— which Stanhope maintains with whiskey and Osborne with his beloved pipe ⁠— is interrupted by the arrival of Raleigh (the extremely fresh-faced Asa Butterfield). The older, war-shattered Stanhope is thoroughly ashamed that Raleigh (whose sister is his sweetheart) is seeing him in the state he's in. The acting from all involved, particularly Claflin and Bettany, elevates "Journey's End" into something truly special. "Journey's End" does a good job of conveying the mundanity and minutiae of trench life, fixating on small things like tobacco and tea, while the ever-present threat of random death looms over the soldiers. Even those ostensibly in charge only maintained the illusion of control, when really they had no power over their own fate or that of their men. "Journey's End" deserves to be seen by many more people.

Seen as an answer to Christopher Nolan's "Dunkirk," Sam Mendes had his own bombastic offering for IMAX audiences, this time about the First World War. Some viewed the continuous take effect as gimmicky, but Roger Deakins' incredible cinematography absolutely serves a purpose. The opening moments, which follow Schofield (George MacKay) and Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) through a group of soldiers (eating, washing, writing letters, etc.) before entering the labyrinthine trench is brilliant at conveying just how entrenched the army was, particularly by 1917. There is domesticity and drudgery, coupled with the exhaustion of just making it through the trench, even during relatively peaceful conditions. 

Deakins' camera never leaves MacKay, and therefore we see how determined Schofield is to fulfill the mission he has been given, no matter the many obstacles he faces and the relentless physical exertion it requires. He falls into a river around 30-minutes before the end and his water-logged uniform only adds to the feeling of him being bogged down and running in quicksand. The most visually stunning sequence is in the town of Ecoust, a nightmarish vision of burnt-orange buildings against a jet-black sky. This scene is genuinely scary, while also having an eerie beauty to it. As well as Deakins' cinematography and George MacKay's performance, the third most important element of "1917" is Thomas Newman's score — from the tinkling xylophone of "Night Window" to the soaring emotion of "Come Back to Us" — the music envelopes us and immerses us. A stunning achievement.