The Hurt Locker
“As of Thursday, July 16, 2009, at least 4,324 members of the U.S. military had died in the Iraq war since it began in March 2003, according to an Associated Press count.” That was the first sentence from the first result of a quick, simple Google News search with the words ‘Iraq war.’ Films remind us of some of the most profound, and profoundly simple, ideas at the heart of humanity. The Hurt Locker reminds us that people are not numbers, people are not statistics. People are human beings, a truism which bears repeating each and every day, a truth to which war is impervious.
The opening screen of this movie is white text on black background, like the opening of every Woody Allen film, with simple italicized text that reads:
The rush of battle is often a potent and lethal addiction, for war is a drug – Chris Hedges
After a moment, all else fades and these words remain: “war is a drug”. There is no period in the placard after the word drug which seems to imply that there is no end to the drug of war, and there doesn’t seem to be any hope of one, either.
A platoon of men in the Bravo Company in Iraq have approximately 40 days and 40 nights left in their rotation, and their job is to defuse the bombs (IED’s) which they encounter, as well as dismantling any Iraqi resistance in their path. Their exact remaining duration is 38 days, we are told, but the allusion to the wilderness is, I think, worth mentioning. Great films have great ramifications, the results of which can be both penetrating and, at times, seemingly unanswerable, indescribable, ineffable; many times this is aided by the dialogue. The writing of this film, the dialogue itself, is fantastic, and the author of those words is relatively new to the big screen, having only one other credit to his name, In the Valley of Elah. The gifted ear for common speech, diverse regional colloquialisms, and genuinely honest conversation is astounding. There is a breadth of understanding in human exchange, which was at times hysterical, at times uplifting, and at nearly all times, very authentic.
This entire film drips authenticity. Each scene seems to reveal something else about experiencing war, especially modern warfare and specifically in the Middle East, which we read or hear about, but have trouble truly understanding. There is a subtlety which uncovers even the smallest and seemingly trivial encounters in war, like a single fly buzzing in your eyes and mouth, in the hot desert sun, when you’ve had nothing to drink for hours. Or the relationships which the soldiers build with the people, the merchants, the children, who live and work near their base. Or the infinite number of possible enemies, dressed in everyday clothing, holding perhaps no more weapon than a cell phone.
None of this wonderful writing would work without equally impressive acting. And the acting exceeds expectations. Jeremy Renner plays the main character, known for short as James. James is an impetuous, rash, adrenaline addict, with a genius for disarming bombs. He replaces the previous bomb-defuser, the proverbial Man in the Big Suit, as the leader of his pack, and the pack is a bit wary, both of war, and of James. Anthony Mackie is impeccable as Sanborn, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was at least mentioned as a possible Best-Supporting Actor contender, if not in the running.
As the story progresses, and these characters are unveiled, we see that war, like any addiction, affects everyone differently, personally, almost inimitably. Kathryn Bigelow, the director, shows a striking comprehension of the male psyche, and it is revealed time and again throughout the film. At one point, James says to Sanborn, “Do you know why I am the way I am?” Neither of them knows, and perhaps, in some respects, we never will know why we are the way we are, and why war, like a drug, is both lethal and addictive. Art allows us a peek behind the veil. But sometimes the peek asks more questions than it answers. And the questions are more enlightening than any answer we had before.
Rating: 4/4 Stars
