kathryn bigelow's THE HURT LOCKER (2009)

there's been a lot of talk since people started making movies about the Iraq war that people don't want to go watch movies about the Iraq war, but Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker -- called "a Platoon for the Iraq war" by ex-hubby Jim Cameron, which is perhaps a more smartly observed line than anything in Avatar -- is a pretty definitive refutation, no matter how underseen it remains. most films made thus far about the war were obviously done so from a place of political anger, and directed (consciously or not) at those who feel the same; while Bigelow's does stoop to the occasional potshot/groaner (one of the film's not-inconsiderable flaws) it's still quite clear her aim is to make an honest-to-god war film like we haven't seen in some time.

but that's not to say we've necessarily seen anything quite like this, and not just because we skipped all those other Iraq movies. The Hurt Locker is an action film and a war film, but plays like neither where it really counts; in choosing to focus on a small team of soldiers tasked with the disposal of live improvised explosives -- among the most unknowable enemies in a land chock full of them, and almost certainly the most devastating --  Bigelow (and writer Scott Boal, who despite strong work is more to fault for the film's problems) has found a top-notch scenario for visceral suspense, and makes the most of it. several of the setpieces play out for two or three times as long as a less tasteful, less sure filmmaker would think to let them, and each takes a jagged trajectory, ratcheting up the tension at irregular intervals, sometimes ending thirty seconds before we know they're over, sometimes ending three minutes after we think we're sure.

what fills the gaps between these scenes is much more uneven, and even corny toward the end, attempting a character study of the sort of solider that relishes his scrapes with death above all other earthly pleasures (including Evangeline Lilly!) but not really having the point of view to say anything compelling about it. Jeremy Renner is terrific in the role, but, like the film itself, always best from beneath his explosives suit.

errol morris' STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE (2008)

"When you're in war, things change."
- Spc. Jeremy Sivitz

amid the unending controversy and contentiousness surrounding the United States' military occupation of Iraq, the revelations in early 2004 of prisoner abuse at Abu Ghraib prison remain the longest, darkest shadow over our continuing presence in the Middle East. while opinions about the war and its prosecution vary from person to person all over the world, the reaction to the Abu Ghraib photographs was unified: in the humiliation of these men, whatever their crimes, was the humiliation of an entire nation already struggling (and struggling to this day) to convince itself and others of the righteousness of its task.

perhaps as tragic, though, was the whimper with which American society eventually edged Abu Ghraib out of its consciousness. after months of soul searching and hand-wringing on the public's part (and no small amount of posturing from every corner of the political sphere) the Bush administration won the day by doling out prison stints and dishonorable discharges to the low-ranking soldiers involved, and brushing off any notion of any further culpability. simply a matter, we were told, of the proverbial bad apples.

such an blithe dodge to such a monumental issue is, of course, fertile ground for the sort of fluffy, finger-pointing activist documentaries Bush has so generously inspired these past eight years, which makes Errol Morris' Standard Operating Procedure that much more important: America's most distinguished, inspired nonfiction filmmaker, Morris here engages on a moral and intellectual level rather than a political one, and remains steadfastly inquisitive in the face of an inconceivably bleak subject. he is fascinated by the reality that Lynndie England and her compatriots are both victim and perpetrator, and cognizant that the circumstances of their monstrousness have deep roots and broad implications; while the endgame of scapegoating and political maneuvering are certainly worthy of scrutiny, Standard Operating Procedure is far more interested in the grander narrative of war and humanity.

not unusually for Morris, the film hinges around a series of interviews. we hear from former Brigadier General Janis Karpinski, insistent that everpresent U.S. intelligence operatives set the tone for the treatment of prisoners; from Tim Dugan, a non-military interrogator working at the prison and attesting to lack of useful intelligence emerging from its chambers; from Brent Pack, a special investigator tasked with interpreting the photographic evidence and, in one of the film's most chilling sequences, delineating the thin legal distinctions between "criminal acts" and "standard operating procedure."

most illuminating, though, are Morris' sit-downs with the offending soldiers, who speak candidly despite an almost visible weight of regret and even confusion. Spc. Sabrina Harman explains of a big smile and thumbs-up in frame with a dead interrogatee as a reflexive snapshot pose. Spc. Jeremy Sivitz speaks of his family's good military name dragged through the mud because he was unwilling to voice his objections to the superior officers involved, while Sgt. Javal Davis describes spending his days guarding Iraqi detainees while the fruits of their countrymen's labor sent US soldiers home in boxes draped with flags, and how that anger and confusion manifests itself when military intelligence officers start encouraging the guards to "soften up" the detainees.

we even hear from Lynndie England herself (looking now somewhat less like a stoned teenage boy) as she discusses spending the early hours of her twenty-first birthday in the throes of an Abu Ghraib all-nighter, and speaks distantly of a love (for abuse ringleader Cpl. Charles Graner) that blinded her to the ramifications of her actions, which included posing for or taking many a famous photograph.

if there is more than the suggestion of apology or rationalization in these soldiers' words, it has been left on the cutting room floor. instead, the film's participants seek only to clarify -- to take this opportunity to speak their piece. it is devastating, but we see in the end that they are ordinary people put in extraordinarily horrible circumstances for which there is little context. we do not forgive, but we inch toward understanding.

there is all of this and much more in Morris' savagely lucid film, which is every bit as hypnotic as 2003's Fog Of War or indeed any of his other work. his sense for structure remains impeccable, and he even ups the visual ante with striking graphics work and evocative, bleached-out "reenactment" footage that makes an impression without upending the film's harsh reality.

in the end, though, it's not his considerable gifts as a stylist or technician that make Erroll Morris such a force in nonfiction film -- it's his knack for extracting the truth, whether from images, words, or even faces. and while Standard Operating Procedure may be necessarily short on objective answers about the horrors of Abu Ghraib, it remains encouraging for us all that there is that much more light cast on a dark hour.

(from the KNOXVILLE VOICE)