Beaufort gives us a look at the lives of a group of Israeli soldiers defending a Twelfth Century castle on a hill in South Lebanon. In a few days, it will be time to end the occupation of Lebanon and abandon the fortress. But until that time, they continue to strive to survive and do their part to defend Israel.

Beaufort is a collection of contrasts. It is slightly surreal to have these soldiers in a stone citadel built by Crusaders but filled with the finest modern technology. It was built by Christians, but is now held by Jews. As mortars shell the fortress, the technicians who broadcast the warning ("Incoming, incoming") and results ("Impact, impact") seem almost bored—they say the same things dozens of times a day, but it is a matter of life and death. We see in the soldiers the mixture of fear and courage. For the soldiers this place has a sense of being their home, but it is far from their real homes. The film itself is a contrast—it is anti-war, but also supportive of the soldiers who must fight in war.

The film is bookended with episodes dealing with bombs: at the beginning of the film, a soldier from the bomb squad is sent out to defuse a bomb; toward the end of the film, explosives are being set to destroy the modern infrastructure the army has set up in this ancient fort. So much energy and life being expended to hold, protect and then destroy this place. There is a sense of futility, especially considering that there is a rumor that the fortress was never supposed to be captured in the first place—eighteen years defending something you never really wanted.

The constant specter of death gives the film a serious intensity. Even when mortar shells aren't falling, we know that something could happen at any time. As we learn a bit about the soldiers, we know that we may soon have to mourn their loss, just as the soldiers know that they may lose a comrade at any time. The film never lets up that tension. The viewer worries about these soldiers all through their ordeal—even through the last night as the last few await the chance to leave—all the while surrounded by explosives.

The film's anti-war aspect is seen best in a TV interview with the father of a soldier killed at Beaufort. The soldier's uncle was killed in the battle to take the fortress, and now he has been killed defending it. The father is not angry at the enemy or at the government about the loss of his son—indeed, he shows no anger, only sorrow. He chooses to own the blame for the loss of his son. It is, he says, because "I didn't make him understand how precious his life was." Such a lament rings true of many parents of those in armed forces.

While the film has a certain anti-war quality, it never disparages the soldiers. Even in their fear, they portray courage and integrity. They may or may not believe in what they are doing in this place, but they will do their jobs even in the face of death.

There is a universal element to stories about soldiers—at least good stories about them. It doesn't even need to be about soldiers from our own country; we recognize the "universal soldier." Whether it is Das Boot, M*A*S*H, Full Metal Jacket, or any of a number of films that show the hell that soldiers find themselves in, these films, which now includes Beaufort, help us to appreciate the nobility of those in armed forces even if we may think that the jobs given to them by politicians are wrongheaded and reckless.