The Mighty (1929) – An Old War Film That Still Connects?

Okay, so The Mighty, from way back in 1929. Is it worth tracking down today? Well, if you're into those old-school silent-to-early-talkie era flicks, especially ones that try to wrestle with big changes like war and redemption, yeah, you might find something here. Folks who need constant action or modern pacing will probably be pretty bored. 😴

This film throws us right into the grimy underbelly of city life, where George Bancroft's character, Bull, operates as a gangster's muscle. He's big, he's tough, and you get the sense he doesn't think too much beyond the next job. The way he moves through those early scenes, there's a kind of _lumbering inevitability_ to him, almost like a force of nature but without much direction.

Then comes the draft, pulling him straight into the Great War. The sudden shift from smoky backrooms to a barracks full of strangers is pretty jarring, even for the audience. You can almost feel the film trying to convince you this moment matters, how it’s a big deal for Bull.

What really stuck with me was this one particular shot when he's in his new uniform for the first time. He looks less like a soldier and more like a kid playing dress-up, totally out of his element. It’s a subtle thing, but it really highlights just how much of a fish out of water he is.

The transition to the war itself, the actual trenches and fighting, is handled with a certain starkness for its time. It’s not a grand, sweeping epic like we see now. It’s more about the individual experience, the mud, the fear.

There's a scene where Bull, deep in the trenches, has to make a quick decision to protect a fellow soldier. It’s not some big, heroic leap into danger. It’s more of a _grudging, almost clumsy_ act of self-preservation that accidentally becomes heroic. That felt pretty real, actually. Raymond Hatton, as the buddy, really sells the terror and relief in that moment, even with just his eyes.

The film plays around with the idea of what makes a man 'mighty.' Is it brute strength, or something else entirely? It’s a question that sort of hangs in the air, especially as Bull starts to change, bit by bit. He doesn't suddenly become a saint, not at all.

I found myself wondering about the logistics of those trench scenes. How did they even shoot that back then? It’s not perfect, sure, but there’s an earnestness to it. The sheer number of extras, for one, gives it a certain weight. 🤯

Allan Cavan plays a minor role, a superior officer I think, and his reactions sometimes feel a little over-the-top, but it’s 1929, so you kinda expect some of that. It’s part of the charm, I guess.

The movie gets noticeably better once it stops taking itself _too_ seriously with the gangster stuff and just lets Bull’s transformation unfold. The early scenes feel a little like they’re trying too hard to establish his 'badness.' But once he's in the thick of it, away from all that, the character breathes a little more.

By the end, you see a different man, but the film doesn't really go for a super clean, 'happily ever after' kind of vibe. It leaves you thinking about the scars, visible and invisible, that war leaves behind. It’s a quiet ending, almost muted. And that’s probably for the best. 👍

It's an interesting watch if you're a film history buff, or just curious how these kinds of stories were told before loud explosions and CGI. It’s _not_ perfect, mind you, but it’s got a heart to it. A little rough, a little dated, but with some genuine moments that shine through the grainy footage.