The Trench

THAT BREED of cinemagoer known as the war-movie freak will, in all probability, find The Trench a mammoth disappointment. Not enough explosions; not colourful enough; no rousing martial music – no fun at all, really.

With the exception of Regeneration, however, this British low-budgeter is by far the most accurate and sombre portrayal of WWI I’ve seen this decade, and despite its unambitious scope and made-for-TV feel, it deserves a mention at least. The plot follows a gang of young British conscripts – some of them so young they had to lie about their ages in order to enlist – over a 48-hour period in the trenches of no-man’s-land just prior to the Battle of the Somme, the bloodbath of which provides the film’s horrendous climax.

There are no distractions at all from the imminent onset of doom, and this enables the characters to be fleshed out far more convincingly than their counterparts in most Hollywood war-flicks. With no legs to stand on otherwise, The Trench relies heavily on its actors to pull it through, but they manage pretty impressively.

A no-name cast chip in with solid performances, the most commendable being Daniel Craig’s (as the group’s sergeant) and Human Traffic’s Danny Dyer.

Although the small-scale nature of the film precludes any possibility of it entertaining anyone on a grand scale, The Trench serves as a worthy, sincere and moving addition to the canon of WWI laments.