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. ( )

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)! ( )

"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 ( )