Set in a dugout in Aisne in 1918, Journey’s End is the story of a group of British officers, led by the mentally disintegrating young Captain Stanhope, as they await their next advance towards enemy lines. IMDb

Sunday is the 100^th anniversary of the end of the First World War. So there is much in the press about the service and sacrifice of Australian troops and how we honour and remember that. Warning: I am about to raise eyebrows.

This war was 100 years ago—what about now? I believe we can do more for our current veterans than we are. Not just through government programs but through personally acknowledging that they have been through hell. Not through ‘thanking them for their service’ as our allies do (which, let’s face it, has the same impact as ‘thoughts and prayers’ after yet another school shooting).

Maybe we could, as their friends and family, let them know that we see them, we hear them and, if they want it, we are ready to help them.

It is much easier to commemorate a conflict that was so long ago we can comfortably distance ourselves from events. We can be proud of our great, great uncle or aunt without having to live with the results of war. We can acknowledge them as heroes because, looking back in time, we don’t see their faults or their fears.

This film shows us those faults and fears. It shows a small group of soldiers in the last months of a futile conflict which (thankfully) has not been equalled for destruction and loss of life since.

The pent-up rage and trauma conveyed by Sam Claflin, in a tour-de-force as Stanhope, is heartbreaking. The innocence and fear shown by Asa Butterfield as the latest wet-behind-the-ears cannon fodder is skilfully underplayed. In fact, every character is beautifully sketched. Paul Bettany has never been better.

The conditions they exist under are not displayed for our voyeuristic horror but merely mentioned in passing.  This allows us to focus instead on their emotional damage, the mental and physical cost of simply clinging to sanity and some sort of normality in the pit of despair.

We only leave that trench for a few, brief scenes that beautifully illustrate the difference in conditions between the front and headquarters—and the carelessness of orders given by an authority that knows any action will cost lives…and accepts that loss.

We should honour those who have lost their lives in the service of our country—but we should honour them as real people—open our eyes to their real suffering and to our loss.

This film may not be Australian but it does help us go on that journey with them.

Roslyn saw this film as a guest of Dendy Cinemas Canberra.

Feature image: Supplied