Zero Dark Thirty

Kathryn Bigelow crafts a striking thriller in Zero Dark Thirty (2012). It's a powerful piece of work that depicts the War on Terror in a commendably complex manner.

Maya (Jessica Chastain) is a CIA analyst assigned to Pakistan in 2003. Maya helps a field agent (Jason Clarke) crack an al-Qaeda courier and tracks Abu Hamid, a high-level operative with ties to Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. Her investigation stalls when another informant declares Hamid dead, and when the CIA relocates resources to homeland defense. Years later, a new lead convinces Maya that Hamid's actually alive - and that he can lead the Agency to Osama Bin Laden himself.

Zero Dark Thirty began as a project about the 2001 attempts to nab Bin Laden at Tora Bora. Real life rewrote the plot of course, refocusing things on Bin Laden's death. Assorted media and political gasbags spouted off before its release, claiming the film an endorsement of torture, pro-Obama propaganda or flag-waving jingoism. Not surprisingly, these preliminary complaints are remarkably unjust. 

Zero Dark Thirty operates on two levels. Bigelow and writer Mark Boal first present an unusually complex spy thriller. Maya finds her colleagues viewing Bin Laden through a pre-9/11 mindset: "You can't run a global network of interconnected cells from a cave." Human intelligence is flawed, electronic surveillance useless without hard leads. Political hurdles interfere: the Bush Administration downplays the hunt for Bin Laden, Barack Obama shuts down the CIA's detainee program. CIA bureaucrats are gun-shy after proclaiming Iraq a "slam dunk," delaying the operation by months. Only Maya's determination keeps things afloat.

Bigelow commendably downplays hot button issues. The film opens with a brutal torture scene, but the actual impact of "forceful interrogation" is secondary to analytical skills and luck. The detainee program, use of drones, electronic surveillance - heck, the legality of SEAL Team Six's raid - are unquestioned. The closest Bigelow comes to overt editorial comment is showing President Obama disavowing torture. The lack of an overt message may niggle liberal viewers, but it's Zero Dark Thirty's greatest strength.

Or second greatest strength, after its protagonist. Maya spends early scenes fitting into the man's world of spying, disarming colleagues with both her intelligence and coarse profanity. Virtually ignored in early scenes, she ends the film instinctively trusted by the CIA director (James Gandolfini) and Navy SEALs alike. One imagines Bigelow relating to this, a female professional gaining respect by besting her peers. Maya has only her gut feeling to confirm Bin Laden's presence in Abbotabad.

Unsurprisingly, Maya's obsession takes a mental toll. This takes an obvious form when one of her colleagues dies. More generally, she grows completely absorbed by her mission. Maya lacks a personal life, imbuing even friendly dinners with shop talk, clinging to her leads out of self-justification more than genuine conviction. Her entire life's been about hunting Bin Laden; the end of her quest leaves her drained rather than fulfilled. More than a feminist heroine, Maya symbolizes America's lingering obsession with terrorism.

If released two years earlier, Zero Dark Thirty might be a dark tale of obsession, a terrorist Zodiac. Instead Bigelow ends with SEAL Team Six's incredible mission. Truth be told, the climactic raid feels like a set-piece tacked on to an existing script. All the same, Bigelow handles it with remarkable skill, mixing handheld camera with night vision effects. It's an excellent finale, tense and exciting yet commendably muted. No rah-rah heroics at film's end, just numb relief.  

Jessica Chastain gives a flawless turn. She's not a complete blank slate, allowing humor and camaraderie to bleed through periodically. But the main impression is Chastain's bluntness, smarts and fierce dedication, whether coolly directing operations or telling off superiors. Chastain makes a commendably rounded heroine, easy to root for and emotionally sympathetic, and should nab this remarkable actress an Oscar.

Bigelow provides Chastain solid support. Jason Clarke (Public Enemies) makes a strong impression as Maya's hard-nosed partner. Jennifer Ehle (The King's Speech) gets an affecting role playing a CIA friend with a poor prognosis. Kyle Chandler, James Gandolfini, Mark Strong (Kick-Ass) and Stephen Dillane (John Adams) play skeptical agency bigwigs.

Zero Dark Thirty is remarkable. Smart, lucid and realistic, it joins Lincoln as a real-world drama for thinking adults.

The Hurt Locker

Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker is a fine depiction of the Iraq War. It's nothing terribly original or deep, but as an exploration of the stress - and thrill - experienced by men fighting a modern war, it's very well-done. Certainly it's better than the other nonsense being nominated for Best Picture this year.

Iraq, 2004. After Thompson (Guy Pearce), the leader of a bomb retrieval team, is killed by an IED, Sergeant James (Jeremy Renner) takes over. Much to the chagrin of his colleagues Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Eldridge (Brian Geraghty), James is a hot-head who gets a perverse thrill out of defusing bombs and the danger of war. His recklessness constantly gets his team into trouble, leading to inevitable tensions between the three.

Iraq War films are nothing new by now, and The Hurt Locker takes the same road as most other films: by setting it in 2004, it makes it, in effect, a historical piece, somehow distant from current realities and controversies. Despite its grunt's-eye view of things, the movie seems a bit detached, and its characters aren't really developed beyond basic character traits. James is the only character who really registers as an individual, and his character trait is never really explored. The message of "war as a drug" is effectively registered through James, but it would be nice to explore why this were the case, rather than to simply assert that it is.

Aside from these flaws, Hurt Locker is solid. The episodic plot perfectly illustrates the monotony of service in Iraq, where soldiers are ground down by hours of boredom and moments of sheer terror. Our three protagonists' reactions to the war - James's thrill-seeking, Sanborn's stoic acceptance, Eldridge's near-breakdown - are wholly believable. The film is admirably apolitical, not espousing a pro- or anti-war viewpoint, though it acknowledges the unpleasant realities of fighting a counter-insurgency war, with our characters repeatedly antagonizing the locals they're supposedly helping. The movie ends on a wonderfully perverse note, eschewing any resolution; as long we remain in Iraq, our soldiers won't be able to extricate themselves from the shadow of the battlefield.

Bigelow's direction is fine. She eschews big action scenes, replacing the visceral thriller of shootouts with nail-biting suspense as our protagonists defuse bombs, face down potentially hostile locals or stand-off with a sniper. The set-peices build on each other, allowing the tension to escalate throughout, never fading even in the quiet moments. This movie illustrates how to use hand-held "shakycam"; while misused in films like Quantum of Solace and Public Enemies, it's well-employed here, adding to the authentic, gritty feel.

Jerry Renner gives a fine turn, perfectly capturing James's addiction to combat and inability to function away from the battlefield. Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty are solid as his buddies, just trying their damndest to survive. The more known actors - Ralph Fiennes (The English Patient), Guy Pearce (Memento), Evangeline Lilly (TV's Lost), David Morse (John Adams) - are confined to cameos.

The Hurt Locker is a very good film, even if it's not the Iraq War's Platoon, as has been suggested. Still, it's better than a certain film by its director's ex-husband, and of the four Best Picture nominees I've seen, it's definitely got my vote.

I'm feeling a bit burned out from all this reviewing of late, so I'm going on break for the rest of the month. See you lot in March!