Fury (David Ayer, 2014)

Fury starts out in a Saving Private Ryan tone and progressively leaches out any individual attributes it might have had. Brad Pitt commands a tank ploughing through Germany in the closing days of the war with an off-the-shelf crew of a boorish hick, a bible-basher, a stolid Hispanic and a frightened rookie. The Nazi opposition takes two forms, both equally improbable: either unstoppable behemoth tanks or droves of irrationally charging rent-a-goons. Either way, the Americans simply have to be the plucky underdogs, no matter what anachronisms that might entail (this is the director behind the infamous U-571, which prompted what was basically an apology for misappropriation of history by Hollywood from President Clinton).
Killing the heroes and their paramours equals an anti-war message in this lunk-headed milieu. Then Star Wars laser effects are superimposed on the gunfire, complete with red-green colour coding for goodies and baddies. There is some efficient dialogue and a few jarring shots, but by the time day-night continuity also goes out of the window without a care, who would care at all?

4/10