This review is a part of the Best Picture Project: a review of every single Academy Award winner for the Best Picture category. The Bridge on the River Kwai is the thirtieth Best Picture winner at the 1957 Academy Awards.

The ‘50s was the spawning point of the cinematic epic as we know it. Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai sharpened the action sequence. The Searchers applied nuance to then-tiring conventions. Then came along David Lean: perhaps the master of epic filmmaking (especially in the twentieth century). He had a parade of films that — to this day — have refined what long, powerful, established films can be: including Lawrence of Arabia (to be reviewed for this project very soon) and Doctor Zhivago. For now, we are going to focus on the earliest work of his that took the world by storm: The Bridge on the River Kwai.

This political war film involves an English brigade held captive as prisoners of war in a Japanese camp. They are instructed to fulfill one major mission: complete a bridge to connect the Rangoon region with Bangkok. Disobeying will result in severe punishment, including torture and isolation. Lieutenant Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guinness) thinks that following suit will get as many men out of this camp alive as possible. Not everyone believe so, and this sparks a rebellion movement with their own mission: destroy the bridge.

Lieutenant Colonel Nicholson observing his troop, of which he has to lead towards their hopeful safety.

When it comes to the right of freedom, River Kwai establishes the many ways that the suffering will try and capture this right once more. Over its three hours, the plot is tied together by ulterior motives: hidden agendas that an individual will use to save their skin, not knowing the repercussions these choices will make. Even the smallest of characters get wound up in these dilemmas: pay close attention and see which soldiers are obeying to survive, and which are trying to find their own escape plans.

Naturally, the quest for freedom becomes a civil war amongst those within the same army. The British prisoners begin to cave in on themselves, specifically the ally movement that recruits and dishes back soldiers with new game plans. Over the course of the film, the extreme heat, lack of food, and the torture begin to either warp minds, or encourage these men to chase freedom even more quickly. The bridge is no longer the only dead line we are experiencing. We’re waiting for who will crack first, who will actually escape, or if the bridge will be detonated and how.

Nicholson after being released from the iron box; he is starved and overheated.

Three hours for this film is perfect. It allows enough varying activity to take place, with the time needed to fully flesh out each and every thread. We begin to further understand Nicholson’s leadership choices, as well as Commander Shears’ (William Holden) train of thought throughout his escape from the camp. We even get to learn more about the Japanese captors, specifically Colonel Saito (Sessue Hayakawa), and why they themselves are forced to be in the position they are in. In these situations, desperation takes charge.

Each and every individual story line feels like a piece of the bridge being locked into place. You witness the actual structure being built, but you also notice the story getting more and more dense with detailing. With the subplot of the ally movement hoping to dismantle the bridge, you begin to realize that this means the story, too. No longer is River Kwai a slow burner. It becomes a race to see which goal happens first. You know everything leads up to the last second. You just don’t know how it will all turn out.

The titular bridge is a fantastic display of production design and execution.

Wow, does the finale ever deliver. Without question, the concluding minutes to Lean’s film are heart pounding in every sense. The choreography of everything is almost like watching a Rube Goldberg machine (in a narrative sense): the amount of causation and reaction will affirm the notion that there is no stopping the inevitable series of sequences. Every plot thread reaches back here, gets tangled in a knot, and pulled in an attempt to release at least one of the threads: the knot only gets tighter and more mangled. Even structurally, the ending is a thing of beauty; particularly the damning change-of-heart that happens with one specific character, and the frightening attempt to justify this realization. All hell breaks loose, and it’s glorious.

This finale works, because we learn so much about every character. River Kwai isn’t interested in being black-or-white with its character building. Even the protagonists have their own flaws, hubris, and mistakes. With enough substance to be shared around every player, River Kwai understands that a great payoff needs the best of buildups, and it took its cue from its subject matter. The best result takes time to create.

The British troop marching through the camp to continue working.

The Bridge on the River Kwai was a startling sign of things to come in filmmaking. Even today, its magnitude is overwhelming. You can see where ever dollar of its budget went towards. While Lean is more often celebrated for Lawrence of Arabia (perhaps his magnum opus), The Bridge on the River Kwai is not too far off from being one of the most deserving Best Picture winners of any year. Even if you disregard the other nominees that year (and it went up against some heavy hitters, including 12 Angry Men), River Kwai is fundamentally tight, narratively captivating, and aesthetically magnetic. It remains a pinnacle moment in the epic film style, and a significant game changer in cinema.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.