Fury

Fury is an action-packed blockbuster about an American tank crew slaying SS men in Germany in the Second World War. Brad Pitt is the only one of the crew who washes himself in a private moment, shows off the muscles acquired at LA Fitness and, even after a year of masturbating in an iron cockpit, does not f*ck the German girl (who wouldn’t be against it) because that would be unethical. The point of the film: Not all SS men were bad. The third Expendables should have taken place here, with a less straight face. (06/11/2014)

Half an hour before the end, I was still convinced of a five-star rating, because such a realistically dirty, unkempt war film had been missing for a long time. Add to that the production values of fantastic sets, Pitt being the walking embodiment of charisma, and the lunch at the German woman and her daughter's house scene, which I consider one of the best movie scenes of last year. But then came a hardly acceptable scene, which even the Soviets at the time of masterpieces like Liberation would not have liked in terms of exaggeration and heroism. Ayer just got carried away and the whole great impression went down the drain, or into the mud of a tank belt trail, of which the film is full. (24/04/2015)

Attempting to make a Tank Patrol into a living monument to the soldiers of World War II is a lot to promise, but it falls apart when David Ayer's genres start clashing with each other. I would believe both in the invincible crew of the Fury and in tears during drunken confessions, but once these moods meet and regularly alternate, it's over. And it's a shame because Brad Pitt and Logan Lerman can effortlessly develop any smallest supporting storyline to the edge. (13/11/2014)

A really view on war through the perspective of an armored box on tracks. Ayer filmed a unique war movie where any hopes are trodden into the mud and victory just means the chance to fight another battle. No outlook for survival, no promise of a home. All tankers have long deserved such a raw, real and pure picture. Most often it’s the air force and infantry who receive praise, tanks are all too easily forgotten. Not anymore. Pitt’s Wardaddy isn’t a variation on a Tarantino-like Alda, quite the opposite. A crushed man, missing civilization, but gave it up for the good of his crew, an able commander who has been fighting too long. The whole crew is a good crew. Bernthal’s hick animal, the hated Grady, eventually turns out to be a good man in the closing moments. The grubby Shia is surprisingly adult, quotes from the Bible with such verve that he began to believe it himself. And now the main thing - hero, greenhorn Logan Lerman, one time funny kid is becoming a man and a regular killing machine in Ayer and Wardaddy’s care. As his gains respect with his crew, he gains it with the viewer, too. The entire father-son storyline works excellently and in that sewer of a war it’s the only thing to hold on to. I supported them to the last moment, I was in the tank with them and every hit, every jolt cuts you to the quick. If you read any war books when you were young and your eyes were drawn to those green monsters like Fury, this is a movie for you. Here am I, send me! (23/11/2014)

It's not a bad film, but only two scenes really caught my attention, one of which was at the dining table (the other was the disposal of the tiger). It seemed to me as if David Ayer wanted to combine The Big Red One and The Thin Red Line, but he just couldn't reach that bar with the help of clichés and uninteresting characters. Yet Brad Pitt was 100% suited to the role and it was obvious that he played the tank commander with gusto, and the dirty, muddy atmosphere had a lot going for it as well. But why was it all so long, even though so little happened in it? (30/01/2016)