Al Murray's (AKA The Pub Landlord) musing on his childhood where his fascination with history and all things war began.
Have you ever watched a film with someone who, at the most dramatic scene, argues that the plane on screen hasn't been invented yet? Or that the tank rumbling towards the hero at the end of the film is the wrong tank altogether?
Al Murray is that someone. Try as he might, he can’t help himself.
Growing up in the 1970s, Al, with the help of his dad, became fascinated with the history of World War Two. They didn’t go to football; they went to battlefields. Because like so many of his generation whose childhood was all about Airfix, Action Man and Where Eagles Dare, he grew up in the cultural wake of the Second World War.
Part memoir, part life obsession, this is Al Murray musing on what he knows best. And he’s sure to tell you things about history that you were never taught at school.
In 'Watching War Films with My Dad' British comedian and Pub Landlord creator Al Murray explores his abiding fascination with the Second World War, a passion kindled during childhood viewings of various war movies with his ultra-critical ex-soldier father. Although at pains to downplay any pretension to the title of 'historian' Murray displays an impressive grasp of sources in exploration of the factual flaws found in several classic war films with Richard Attenborough's Arnhem epic 'A Bridge Too Far' forming the main focus of the narrative.
However, this book is much more than a tedious list of misplaced tanks, aircraft and uniforms (although Murray is unable to get over the appearance of a 1970s vintage Leopard tank in 'A Bridge Too Far' and his treatment of the hopelessly silly 'The Battle of the Bulge' is a pedant's delight). Instead we are treated to a series of finely-crafted, well researched and continually entertaining chapters focusing on Murray's principal WWII obsessions, ranging from the eternally controversial career of Field Marshal Montgomery to the D-Day landings. Each chapter is framed with biographical anecdotes, taking us through Murray's boyhood fascination with Action Man and Airfix models, his less-than-glorious career as a public-school army cadet, and his growing adult discomfort with what he begins to see as a morbid, even morally dubious preoccupation: 'I was suddenly sick of it all... How could any of this ever be glorious?'
Funny, insightful and informative in equal measure this is the perfect book for lovers of military history and British comedy alike.
I was at school with the author, although he was several years younger. We did act in the same school plays, however, and I sometimes favoured him with a lofty nod of recognition as I glided past in all the glory of my senior monitor’s accoutrements (I consciously aped Flashman from Tom Brown’s Schooldays in my clothing, though not my behaviour – apart from a certain affected swagger). The most enjoyable part of this memoir for me was being reminded of just how strange our schooldays were. Yes, we really did have an armoury full of Lee Enfield rifles and even some light machine guns, and in the event of a Soviet invasion we would have been issued with these and deployed in the school grounds with orders to resist to the last antiquated cartridge. And I am sure we would have done so. I also remember the school sergeant major Murray describes, although I found him a somewhat ludicrous and unconvincing figure on account of his beribboned French poodle which accompanied him everywhere, and rather undermined his pose of military machismo.
So many of Murray’s childhood experiences match my own. I played endless wargames with my brothers, with self invented rules of increasing complexity as we grew older, and I too shared Murray’s obsession with the same Airfix soldiers and model kits, and the same war comics, and the whole obsession with World War Two. From the distance of forty plus years it all seems a bit odd but also more understandable. We could not help the accident of being born in a particular time and place. Murray’s memoir helped me to understand this wider context as part of the last sigh of an Empire’s ending and nostalgia for the time when we were a first rate power. At school, we were everywhere surrounded by the dead: whole galleries with hundreds of gold tooled names on the panelling, beautifully carved military crests on the backs of all the chapel stalls – all memorials to former boys killed in war. We lived it and breathed it, and we put on uniforms and shouldered Lee Enfields and practised how we would kill the enemy if our turn came.
Where I don’t quite follow Murray is in the slightly autistic and Pooterish obsession he and his Dad had with Getting It Right. Of course, I am as annoyed as anyone by war films which are egregiously inaccurate, but I must say I enjoyed A Bridge Too Far (I must have seen it six times) without getting too upset by the anachronistic Leopard tank. Murray is a bit like those odd people who obsess over continuity errors in films and love poring over them in slow motion to catch and share the errors on social media. I can think of more interesting things to be doing, even in lockdown.
Overall I really enjoyed this and it was a pleasant reminder of times past. Occasionally, Murray’s discursiveness was a little too meandering, and his informality a little grating. But then I am pretty sure I used to order him to do up his top button and get his hair cut. (You wouldn’t think it looking at him now, but I remember him with lots of very blond hair, though in a dreadful pudding bowl style. He really was quite cute in those days – it was probably just as well we never shared a trench).
I originally thought that this book would, literally, be Al Murray watching war films with his dad; discussing them, and pointing out where the filmmakers had got things wrong such as where stories were conflated, the wrong tanks, ships, weapons, etc shown, or where, as in The Great Escape, whole tranches of characters and facts are just *wrong* - or that U571, in which the Americans and not the British rescue an Enigma machine, is wrong, wrong, *WRONG*.
That's *not* what this book is about - or at least, not *all* of it, but it does allow Murray to be that person who shouts at the screen when filmmakers Get Things Wrong In War Films, because he knows too much about military history to simply ignore the gaffes. Plus, at least doing it in a book is quieter.
Put simply, this is part memoir and part life obsession, from growing up in a time when the adults around him all still had vivid memories of the Second World War, and himself being born only 22 years after VJ Day and the true end of the war.
One of the book's themes is hindsight, or, as Murray describes it, "Historian's Fallacy", which is that it's easy to forget the simple fact that people in the past couldn't see into the future; for example, we can look back and assume that we were *always* going to win WWII, because we know we did: but just because we *did* win, it doesn't mean that our victory was set in stone. If different decisions had been made instead of the ones that were, the outcome of the war might've been very different. We know now that the Germans never invaded mainland Britain, but when the film Went The Day Well? was made in 1942, it was a distinct possibility and a great fear.
But of course, there are plenty of humorous elements to the book. Murray gives an enjoyable and pertinent discourse on Edwin Starr's 1970 anti-war song War (What Is It Good For?), which he compares favourably to John Lennon's Give Peace A Chance and Merry Christmas (War Is Over)("If that's alright with the rest of you," Murray adds mischievously), pointing out that Lennon's songs are both wishy-washy in comparison.
Murray's tour manager, knowing of Murray's soft spot for Field Marshall Montgomery, buys him an Action Man-sized poseable model of Monty, which comes complete with two outfits in which to dress him up. They then discover that it's possible to pose Monty against a background and fake the perspective so as to take snapshots of him as though he were actually there: this results in a series of *very* silly pictures of "Monty On Tour."
One section that's a must-read is Murray's account of the citation for the award of *two* Victoria Crosses to Second Lieutenant Charles Hazlitt Upham (8077), New Zealand Military Forces. Read it, and then read it again, and marvel at what Upham achieved, singlehandedly. As Murray says admiringly, "This man was clearly incredibly brave, incredibly strong, selfless, and, arguably, utterly crazy!" But our caps are in the air for him, that's for sure.
But as with Michael Palin's book Great Uncle Harry, what comes across very strongly and clearly is Murray's anger at what the ordinary soldier went through in the process of fighting a war, often led astray by poor leadership, and the bravery of the men who did the fighting and dying and who didn't receive their true due, the plaudits and medals going instead to the men in charge. Harry Palin would've understood this well.
"What's obvious to me," says Murray, "is that everyday front-line life required huge amounts of nerve, will, courage, and the energy to prop those things up." As further proof of this and the sacrifices made by the soldiers on the ground, read Murray's description of what happened when a Sherman tank got hit by a missile and went up in flames, and the shocking reality of what was left of their crews afterwards to see what I mean.
I thought that this was an excellent read, with a good mix of Murray's personal experience of visiting well-known European battlefields and his extensive knowledge of WWII history.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I really enjoyed reading Watching War Films With My Dad. The book plays off his fascination with military history, and that for him it stems from growing up in the 70s and 80s playing with Action Man and building Airfix kits. The thing I got from it is that Al Murray is quite different from the character that we most often see him as, the Pub Landlord. Al is a much more witty person than the Pub Landlord, which shouldn't really be a surprise if you stop and think about it.
The book is a sort of autobiographical discourse on military history. It sort of argues against the fascination with it, cleverly taking us from his youth watching war films while his Dad points out all the inaccuracies in them (his Dad was a regular army officer, a para engineer). This part of the book is very good, and you can see what fascinated the young Al Murray and why he went on to read history at Oxford.
The journey continues to a continued adult fascination with WW2, and some examples of extraordinary exploits during that war. Both in terms of heroism and also on the cost of war in human suffering and young lives cut short. From there it is a short step to realising that as a society we've largely forgotten how horrible war is. You'd think that with the reminders we get on the news that we'd have it in the forefront of our minds, but instead we seem to revel in the glory and spectacle. Museums have more on uniforms, flags and vehicles, and less on the lives of the people that went to war, especially the many that failed to return.
Even as someone keen on military history I understand this position, and to a great extent I share it, as much as I share many of the cultural influences Al mentions in the book (I had action men, built airfix models and have watched all of the movies he references).
You can read this without being steeped in military history, it is very easy to read, and all the chapters are self-explanatory. In places there are little footnotes, which explain where it is necessary (and in a few cases where it isn't). The style is of a monologue, and it is generally fairly light, although towards the end it gets a little more serious.
My copy came to me from a goodreads giveaway, but it is something I would have bought anyway even if it hadn't. I certainly recommend it if you have ever watched a war movie with someone that provided a commentary on its wrongness (possibly including me, I've been that armchair critic)!
I wouldn't have read a straightforward autobiography by Al Murray, whose work and comedic alter ego The Pub Landlord I know very little. But the title hooked me in... mistakenly perhaps as there really isn't that much of him watching war films with his Dad in the book. I didn't especially want my library reservation fee back though as it was an interesting musing on popular representations of military history. He keeps saying he is not a historian... but he has read a lot of it, both books and in the former sense of it being his degree subject (but I am not having his assertion that he got an A* at O level because there were no A* grades at O level) and clearly has something of an obsession for Second World War history (as evidenced by a funny piece about a book sale at his daughters' school). The book feels a little bit like the book of the series he forgot to write after making Al Murray's Road to Berlin programmes for the Discovery Channel nearly a decade before.... but not egregiously so. I particularly liked the flip to show the reader different perspectives on what happened at Arnhem.
Lots of solid nostalgic stuff for those growing up at a similar time - Action Man and such like. Some of the assertions in the book with the hindsight of just a few years seem quite touchingly naive.
"My bookshelves were groaning with WW2 books, Hitler's baleful eyes staring out at me from covers and spines for any new visitor (or passing burglar) to wonder if I might be a fan or at least mildly obsessed."
My favourite line, but overall I'm afraid I was disappointed with this. I think I was expecting more reminiscing about airfix kits and the unrealistic body count in "Where Eagles Dare", but I felt the book was too rambling, almost like an overlong comedy routine.
That being said I found the last chapter quite moving and particularly liked the line above
Hardly a memoir but all the better for it, comedian Al Murray's book Watching War Films with My Dad is more of a jocular riff on war films, history and the recreational activities of his generation – Airfix, paintball, Action Man, cadets – that have shaped a distinctly British view of the past.
I was disappointed that there wasn't more discussion of war films, to be honest – at least, not as much as the title seemed to advertise. About a year after Murray published this book, he filmed an entertaining one-off BBC documentary called, funnily enough, Al Murray's Great British War Movies, in which he and a small panel of film and history experts discussed and dissected and praised and took the piss out of every element of this genre, from Went the Day Well? to Saving Private Ryan. It wasn't essential TV by any means, but it was a lot of fun to kick back with, and it's a shame you can't watch it anymore (not even on BBC iPlayer).
I hoped for something similar when reading Murray's book, but only the early chapters really satisfy in this regard. Even then, it's more the sort of 'that-tank/button/regiment-wasn't-there-in-that-year' pedantry than the documentary's more holistic approach. When discussing the errors in war films, there's a sense of over-commitment to the bit, such as when Murray claims that Band of Brothers shows how "Damien Lewis won the war on his own, in slo-mo" (pg. 29). I don't think anyone could seriously lay that charge at Band of Brothers' door.
After this early war-film itch is scratched, Murray moves onto less interesting stuff like the afore-mentioned Airfix and Action Man. It's a man writing at length about the hobbies of his uneventful childhood, and is about as compelling as that sounds. He then moves on to deliver straight history, such as extended passages on the Normandy and Arnhem campaigns of World War Two. It's acceptable enough but without real value; it's not deep enough to warrant reading and if you wanted that, you'd buy a proper history book anyway.
Ultimately, Watching War Films with My Dad gets a mix of memoir, nostalgia, history, film criticism and comedy into its pages, but, for all its competency and geniality, it's not necessarily a winning mix. Maybe it's just because of his Pub Landlord alter-ego, but reading Murray's book felt like striking up a conversation with a likeable enough stranger in the pub, only for him to outstay his welcome by talking your ear off.
As a comedian, I find Al Murray's The Pub Landlord a one trick pony, but a lot of people do like him. I went to see a fringe play at the Lowry in Salford and he was performing on the main stage. After his show he came out and talked to a long snaking queue and signed autographs to make that effort for his fans made me think this is someone I'd like to know more about hence I read this book. Genuinely amusing, although there isn't that much watching war films with his Dad. What comes across his is passion for military history, although he makes it plain he's not a proper historian. He does make some valid points about how history is recorded demonstrating how different view points can change perspectives on an event. He makes a valid point I hadn't considered before that as people living in the now we use hindsight to make a judgement on the past. Also we don't know what the peasantry thought in the middle ages as they were illiterate and couldn't write things down. I would liked to have known more about his life, especially how he became a comedian. He tells us he has daughters and a girlfriend but no names are revealed. It's as if he is saying this is my closest family and they are not for public consumption.
I was disappointed in this book. I am aware of Al Murray's commitment and interest in the military history of the Second World War and this has come across in some entertaining and informative TV documentaries. This book is too rambling and incoherent to do justice to either the subject or the author. Part memoir and part popular military history, it does not truly work for me in either respect.
I gave it too stars because it is, at times, entertaining and does make some good points e.g. about remembrance and the lessons of the Arnhem campaign. If only Al Murray had focused on, perhaps, the military history aspects and produced a shorter, more tightly argued piece, this would have been a much better book.
It is written in a colloquial style that is not to my taste but I don't hold that against the book.
It is worth a read but it could have been much better.
Once I realised that this was not really about actually watching wad films with one's dad, I liked this at lot more. There are some sections that are a pretty big detour from war, or films for that matter. but it's all delivered with the enthusiasm and energy of Al Murray, and the whole things bounces along in an enjoyable way.
There is also near the end an admission of what many of us our afflicted with. An addiction to the Second World War. And with so many battles, fronts, strategies, books and films, once you start along this road, it gets hard to stop. Al Murray describes how occasionally he tries to shake it off, taking armloads of books to the school jumble sale, before a few days later, buying them all back again, the mark of a true enthusiast
Very relatable, westerns and war films were regular weekend viewing, first in black and white then in colour. Spotting poor historical tanks etc was a right of passage, but generally I was pleased they made the films at all and some did all they could to be as "correct" as possible using whatever material they could find. The battle of Britain may have had the wrong model of aircraft, but they were actually the right type of planes courtesy of Spain.
I had those airfix and tamiya models and had many battles with them.
I'll cop to being a fan of Al Murray's comedy, which basically means his 'Pub Landlord' persona, for the most part. My expectation on picking up this book was therefore something along the lines of "Britain, greatest country in the world!"-type material, of the type at which the pub landlord excels. I was therefore surprised to find that this is a rather serious book. Yes, there are moments of levity, and no shortage of opinion on some of the great classic war movies (particularly "A Bridge Too Far," "The Longest Day," and "The Battle of Britain") and some of the newer offerings such as "Band of Brothers."
But that's not really where the book shines. Murray is clearly very well-informed on military history in general, and World War II in particular. Having made a television series on that very subject ("Al Murray's Road to Berlin," well worth a watch) and admitting candidly to a fascination with that conflict which borders on obsession, he is more than qualified to guide the reader on a whistle-stop tour of the Arnhem campgain (Operation Market Garden), the D-Day landings, and many of the other defining moments of the Second World War. For every joking reference to the wrong model of tank cropping up in a Hollywood blockbuster, there is a poignant, thoughtful, and moving treatise on the grimmer realities of young men going off to war, perhaps never to return.
This isn't really the light-hearted Pub Landlord romp through Hollywood war movies that you may have been expecting, and that is by no means a bad thing. Instead, Al Murray offers up an insightful and highly informative journey through the Second World War, interlaced with anecdotes from his life and a host of fascinating military facts. Well worth picking up.
Just finished reading this book, which I won in a GoodReads "giveaway"! :-)
It's a rambling but entertaining read, part history lesson (mostly about the history of Wars, and WW-II in particular), part stand-up gig, part memoir (biography is a bit overstated) and part War Movie review, but well written and witty throughout!
Al Murray makes some thought provoking points about History and Historians, but the bits that go over Al Murray, the man, are mainly tangential to the telling of war movie plots and potted histories of World War 2 battles.
It must be because I'm the about the same age as him and my father was also a soldier - but I found myself nodding in agreement at the hobbies, tales of childhood in 1970's Southern England and the obsession with war movies and military history. There are differences - I never went to public school and was in the ATC not the CCF, but at some points I felt that he was telling the story of my own childhood, not his!
The writing was well researched (well I'm as nit-picky as him!) and witty - I found myself grinning often when reading this book - I was left with an overwhelming feeling that if I ever met him, I'd shout hello, clap him on the shoulder and buy him a drink (and possibly a glass of wine for the ladies, too!!).
For me, it was watching war films with my granddad. Having failed to get his 2 sons interested in his obsession with the war, I was the next target. I enjoyed making the model planes, stringing them from my bedroom ceiling with nylon thread and drawing pins & was amused by the pedantry spouted during each viewing of a film. I wasn't so keen on the Vera Lynn 78s though. I never did get to the bottom of what triggered my granddad's obsession with the war. During WW2 he was a young child of a single mother, with no male relatives in his life that would have been off fighting & he sadly passed away before I was grown up & mature enough to take an interest in his past and ask.
The book isn't all about Al watching war films with his dad, but those sections will strike a chord with anyone who has been there. Unlike mine, Al's interest in the war grew with him, and the book is a pleasantly rambling tale of his life & thoughts based on his life long interest. It is a bit of a ragtag collection of writings, rather than a cohesive book and it could have done with more editing. Having said that, Al's passion & knowledge of history & his flair for telling tales makes it an interesting & pleasant read.
This was a first reads book sent by the publisher.
This was not the book I was expecting and was all the better for it. The book is an exploration of the authors fascination with the history of the Second World War and in particular the Battle of Arnhem. It starts by explaining the reasons for this fascination and why watching war films with his Dad or now him, is so difficult. It moves on to exploring growing up with this interest, moving into Action Men, Airfix Models and the Cadets.
The second part of the book focuses on the nature of history and what we mean by bravery, before returning to Arnhem and the D Day Landings and the sacrifices made.
This is a book about the history of the war, or at least small parts of it, told by someone with a deep interest, who wants to share it with you. I enjoyed it as the experiences resonated with my own life and share his fascination with history. There is humour but it is not a "funny" book. If you are looking for the Pub Landlord, I don't think this is the book for you but if you do give it a go, I think like me, you might really enjoy it.
Not quite as much mention of actually watching the films with his army-officer dad as I'd expected, however Watching War films with My Dad is still a riotous romp of a read, full of facts and fascinating snippets regarding the Second World War, much of which were known to me, as I am a devotee of military history and WW2 in particular (All those Airfix kits as a kid, just like Al!) some of which were not. The book contains a plethora of almost Pratchett-like footnotes most of which were highly entertaining although one of them did refer to' King Jong Un, rather than, I assume, Kim etc, etc. Al Murray almost does himself a disservice by claiming not to be an historian. Unfortunately it is that 'Almost' which stops the book from getting the full five stars. That and the fact that the book could have done with a decent editor and proof reader, neither of whom were at work the day this entertaining tome went to press. A good read but it could so easily have been a great one.
While it has some interesting moments, overall this book very much felt like Murray was just quickly scribbling away to meet a publisher's deadline. It comes across as though the publishers were forcing him to write a 'memoir' while all Al wanted to do was jot down his views on all things military. He never seems to be at ease sharing his personal life with his readers and only really comes alive when he is discussing historic points of interest during WWII. At times, I'm sorry to say, he even comes across as though his Pub Landlord character isn't quite as far away from his own views as we might like to think... perhaps that just comes with age. The book isn't a total loss, he clearly has a passion for WWII and it really does come across. With an interest in the subject myself, and an appreciation for The Pub Landlord, I had been expecting a great read, but disappointingly found it all instantly forgettable.
Part memoir, part military history, this is an entertaining look at the author's fascination with war from a childhood spent playing with Action Man and building Airfix kits to adult visits to battlefield sites.
It's a light read for the most part though Murray is prone to digressions - rather like this but he can digress for pages at a time. I frequently found myself either backtracking to find out what the original point was or mentally screaming, "Get on with it!" at the page.
That aside Watching War Films With My Dad is funny and often throws up interesting and surprising facts.
Got this book as part of the giveaway from the publisher.
Fantastic book to read, revealed hidden depths within Al Murray that have not been seen in his 'Pub Landlord' persona, as well as an obvious fascination with all things military. The history within is interesting and his personal interest which shines through gives many of the famous war stories and films of our time a new 'human' angle.
A different sort of book from Al Murray's usual fare, I would highly recommend this book to anyone, even if they have little to no interest in the military or history.
Nowhere near as good as Command. 2.5 stars. It starts strongly and ends well, but it meanders for much of the book. One thing I found odd among all the chat about Action Men and Airfix kits. Al is 16 months older than me and we clearly had a lot of the same influences. But, apart from one very brief reference to Commando, there is no discussion of war comics, no mention of Battle, Action, Warlord or even the venerable Victor. I found this glaringly peculiar, given how ubiquitous they were in the 70’s.
Strangely disappointing. This had all the hallmarks of being excellent but failed to live up to them. Maybe I expected too much. Not so much a memoir, more his take on bits of history, especially WW2. Neither funny enough, personal enough, or detailed enough as history. A frustrating half way house.
Small snippets of gold in an otherwise laborious read. The couple of chapters, particularly the last where he and his family spent time in Normandy and meet with those that had first hand experience of the horrors of the war, were touching. The rest of the book, unfortunately, read like a schoolboys overly long home work submission. Sorry Al, I really wanted to enjoy it!
Struggled in places to follow details of battles as that's not something I'm into - but why did I pick up this book? For the perspective of a perceptive and funny man of a similar age to me. I didn't realise he had made such a study of WWII. Love the human touches - relationship with Dad and his children, and how moving he found the solders' letters.
very informative, Al Murray retells WW2 history in a manner that is easy to understand. The book also has many personal anecdotes of his own. it must be stressed however that this is not a comedy book.
Bit of a disappointment. Not that funny, not a real history book. Don't really know what to make of it. Some good anecdotes but not that memorable. I'll just stick to his comedy shows which are hilarious.
Not what I was expecting from the title but an enjoyable read, written in typical Al Murray style and uncovers a few lesser known facts about the war and war films and is dotted with humour throughout! Only a quick read but worth it.