(Credit: Netflix)

Glory can be determined as a movie that focuses on pulling something out of you. A cinema that you’re supposed to carry with you for life. You watch it once, and it doesn’t matter how many years pass; there are scenes and faces you can’t forget.

You see, it is not just about war, or honour, or the usual things people attach to historical films. It is about what it costs to be seen as equal.

Glory is set during the American Civil War, but not the version you are used to seeing in textbooks. This is the story of the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment, which was the first all-Black volunteer company, led by a white officer, Robert Gould Shaw. That sounds neat on paper. But in the film? You see what that actually means. No uniforms at first, no shoes, constant humiliation, everyone around them expecting them to fail… or worse, hoping they do.

But the thing about Glory is, it doesn’t try to turn its characters into heroes overnight. These are angry and loud, flawed characters. And the speciality of these characters is that they are not afraid of emotions like fear, pettiness or guilt.

Oh, and can we please take a moment and talk about the layers of this film? There are so many of them, and every one of those layers comes to life through the cast. Starting with Denzel Washington, who is totally unbelievable in the film. His character, Trip, is not there to be likeable. He is there to be true.

Then there is Morgan Freeman as Rawlins, holding things together without ever making it about himself. You don’t get speeches in this film. You get presence.

Matthew Broderick as Shaw is actually such an underrated part of this whole thing. He is not a born leader, but he grows into it. And if you think this is about making him a saviour, my friend, you might be wrong. It is about showing what it takes to lead when you know the system isn’t built for the men you are fighting for.

The battle scenes in Glory are brutal, and that’s kind of the point: to not make them look choreographed. It’s safe to say director Edward Zwick knew what he was doing. It makes you feel the weight of every decision. Every footstep towards a fight you might not survive, but you show up anyway because maybe, just maybe, it changes something.

A fun bit? Zwick wasn’t known for these kinds of heavy historical dramas at the time. But the way he handles this? With restraint where needed and full emotional weight when it counts, it’s just masterful. And James Horner’s score? Just… right.

Look, Glory isn’t here to make you feel good. It is here to make you feel everything. We live in a world today where war news has become the new normal. And that is why it still matters. And in a world that loves neat endings and polished stories, this one cuts through.