The showstopper of George C. Scott's career, Patton, is what is meant by "they don't make movies like that anymore." Being re-released in stunning 70-mm widescreen format thirty-two years after it hit the big screen in 1970, it holds its own in the special effects department as well. Indeed, it is a showcase for the depth and warmth of film that simply is not possible using all those bits and bytes of reassembled digitized data. In one great movie moment, the opening take of Scott as General George S. Patton delivering his famous before-the-battle speech, against the backdrop of an enormous US flag, is unforgettable. Ditto for the terrible, beautiful, battle scenes exploding across a fifty-foot screen.

Director Franklin Schaffner (Planet of the Apes, The Boys From Brazil, Papillon) pulled together an enormous pool of talent to garner 10 Academy Award nominations. These include Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Director, Best Story and Screenplay (Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North), also Best Art Direction/Set Decoration, Best Sound, Best Film Editing, Best Cinematography, Best Original Score (Jerry Goldsmith), and Best Special Visual Effects. Some of the lines Patton speaks about his passion for the battlefield are echoed later by co-writer Coppola in his screenplay for Apocalypse Now. A major contributor to the script was Gen. Omar Bradley himself, played by Karl Malden, who comes across as a great guy. Maybe he was. It does not matter if this account is somewhat fictionalized. All screen bios are. This is a riveting piece of filmmaking and gives us a fly on the wall view of this great, flawed man. Opening to some controversy on its initial release, at the height of US military involvement in Viet Nam, some saw it as pro war. Hindsight reveals it to be clearly an astonishing portrait of a military man.

Flanked by an outstanding supporting cast, including James Edwards and Michael Bates (Field Marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery), Scott's Patton is on screen perhaps 90% of the time. Some of them, like Edwards, in roles as Patton's loyal staffers, presumably were in awe of the man as depicted here, though not all for charitable reasons. Those not in awe of him probably didn't last long in close staff positions. Nicknamed "Old Blood n' Guts," his famous - and infamous giant ego mandated that he presume his sound military strategies would be carried out - Period. His narcissism did not allow him to consider that others may have other, valid, even better ideas. Scott captures the essence of this complex and brilliant man. Patton's passion for history, his belief in reincarnation, his capacity for true anguish over the death of a brave young soldier in his command, are as palpable as his humiliating treatment of a shell-shocked GI that resulted in his ultimate rejection for the top command post he so craved. The incident enraged many and the film depicts it as the key PR blunder of his career.

The inventive camera of cinematographer Fred Koenekamp assumes some fresh vantage points. Moving about the opulent rooms in magnificent Italian villas, the characters are reflected in a mirrored ceiling. In a key battle scene, he places us behind the officers in the lookout where Patton is directing the battle, interestingly removing us from the heat of the action.

Not that Patton was afraid of action. On the contrary, during a surprise air attack, he rushes outside into a village lane and stands in outraged glory shooting at attacking German planes, with his pearl-handled service revolver. The power of this film is twofold. First is the focused portrayal of this complex, self-described "magnificent anachronism" of a man. The second is its power as a bigger than life depiction of WWII warfare. If you are lucky enough to have a theater near you that still has a wonderful wide screen, this is a must-see in the splendor of its original 70mm format with new special DTS sound. Patton is opening in limited release in this format at specially selected venues.