







I finally got round to Patton and spent most of it admiring George C. Scott while quietly checking how much longer was left. He’s phenomenal: stomping, snarling and muttering his way through the war like a one-man marching band, equal parts terrifying and weirdly magnetic. The opening speech in front of the giant flag really is as good as advertised – pure myth-making, with a sly hint the film knows it.
The problem is everything around him. This is a proper old-school war epic: tanks, manoeuvres, briefings, more manoeuvres, more briefings. It stays watchable because of Scott; take him out and you’ve got two and a half hours of very expensive homework.
What’s interesting is the film’s own ambivalence. It clearly worships Patton’s drive and spectacle, but it also shows how unhinged and out of time he is. Impressive, often absorbing – I just wish someone had brought a pair of shears to the runtime.
This is not just a great war film, it's much more than that. Scott's performance is extraordinary and if it wasn't for his puzzling views on the Oscar system he would have been an automatic choice for best actor.
The supporting cast and direction, etc. are all as good as it gets.
If you haven't seen this film, treat yourself.