Zero Dark Thirty
I came away from Zero Dark Thirty with my mind curiously un-blown. This was partly a case of media coverage reaching saturation point long before I got to see the thing, and partly a structural issue (of which more later). Neither of which are entirely the filmmakers' fault, unless of course you fall into the "anti" camp, for whom the film represents at best the CIA's manipulation of Kathryn Bigelow and writer Mark Boal into making them a two-hour recruitment ad, and at worst an outrageous endorsement of America's vile imperialism brought to you by a modern-day Leni Riefenstahl.
Frankly I'd become bored with the back-and-forth arguments from both sides of this particular fence way before Zero Dark was released here. The rant that was teased at the end of my last post is not going to materialize, since I can't see there being anything new to add to the debate and nothing I say could possibly change anybody's mind. (Yep, I've been reduced to bait-and-switch tactics, which are completely pointless anyway as it's doubtful that any promised spleen-venting will have caused readers to flock to this post in significant numbers. Oh alright, comparing Bigelow to Riefenstahl is fucking ludicrous. Happy now?)
In terms of structure, the main issue here is that Bin Laden ended up getting caught. We all know that Bigelow and Boal were all set to make a film about the apparent futility of the ongoing Osama hunt. They are probably very happy that the CIA belatedly got their man, in terms of box office returns at any rate. But the film they've had to make instead ultimately feels somewhat unbalanced.
An awful lot of the running time is taken up by Jessica Chastain's Maya and friends fumbling around in the metaphorical (zero) dark as they attempt to find something, anything that might offer a clue to Bin Laden's whereabouts. Once the thread is found, the "action" shifts back to the US, where there's a fight to convince the right people that (a) Osama is almost certainly alive and well and living in a nice detached property with excellent views of Abbottabad, and (b) that we should probably stop pissing about and go nail him (if these are spoilers then (a) tough titty and (b) where on earth have you been?).
After two hours of procedural (and mostly of Chastain), we then get a completely separate final act as the marines storm the compound and do their testosterone-overload action hero thing. All the posters for ZD30 show Maya looking pensive/sultry in her cool shades, whereas the key sequence looks far more like this:
The final shot is of Maya, empty and exhausted after seeing her life's mission fulfilled. Where does she go from here, we ask. Where did she go for the last 30 minutes of the movie, we could also ask. In fairness, Bigelow could hardly have been expected to omit Osama's termination, and any money shot needs a good build-up. But the shift from procedural to action thriller is jarring and, effective though the final scene is, it's one of the few chinks of light into Maya's character that we get.
Conversely, think about how the original film might have gone - an endless hunt for an elusive supervillain, our heroine unravelling as this impossible task takes its toll and her friends and colleagues fall by the wayside. Far more scope for character study, with the climactic action sequence replaced by the realization that she's devoted her life to a hopeless cause. It could have made for a much richer film.
(I'm not saying it's no good, by the way. It's plenty powerful and tense enough to satisfy any viewer, if your political beliefs will let you. I just didn't love it, unfortunately. Oh ok, let's not end on a sour note, have a picture of Maya as well.)
Frankly I'd become bored with the back-and-forth arguments from both sides of this particular fence way before Zero Dark was released here. The rant that was teased at the end of my last post is not going to materialize, since I can't see there being anything new to add to the debate and nothing I say could possibly change anybody's mind. (Yep, I've been reduced to bait-and-switch tactics, which are completely pointless anyway as it's doubtful that any promised spleen-venting will have caused readers to flock to this post in significant numbers. Oh alright, comparing Bigelow to Riefenstahl is fucking ludicrous. Happy now?)
In terms of structure, the main issue here is that Bin Laden ended up getting caught. We all know that Bigelow and Boal were all set to make a film about the apparent futility of the ongoing Osama hunt. They are probably very happy that the CIA belatedly got their man, in terms of box office returns at any rate. But the film they've had to make instead ultimately feels somewhat unbalanced.
An awful lot of the running time is taken up by Jessica Chastain's Maya and friends fumbling around in the metaphorical (zero) dark as they attempt to find something, anything that might offer a clue to Bin Laden's whereabouts. Once the thread is found, the "action" shifts back to the US, where there's a fight to convince the right people that (a) Osama is almost certainly alive and well and living in a nice detached property with excellent views of Abbottabad, and (b) that we should probably stop pissing about and go nail him (if these are spoilers then (a) tough titty and (b) where on earth have you been?).
After two hours of procedural (and mostly of Chastain), we then get a completely separate final act as the marines storm the compound and do their testosterone-overload action hero thing. All the posters for ZD30 show Maya looking pensive/sultry in her cool shades, whereas the key sequence looks far more like this:
The final shot is of Maya, empty and exhausted after seeing her life's mission fulfilled. Where does she go from here, we ask. Where did she go for the last 30 minutes of the movie, we could also ask. In fairness, Bigelow could hardly have been expected to omit Osama's termination, and any money shot needs a good build-up. But the shift from procedural to action thriller is jarring and, effective though the final scene is, it's one of the few chinks of light into Maya's character that we get.
Conversely, think about how the original film might have gone - an endless hunt for an elusive supervillain, our heroine unravelling as this impossible task takes its toll and her friends and colleagues fall by the wayside. Far more scope for character study, with the climactic action sequence replaced by the realization that she's devoted her life to a hopeless cause. It could have made for a much richer film.
(I'm not saying it's no good, by the way. It's plenty powerful and tense enough to satisfy any viewer, if your political beliefs will let you. I just didn't love it, unfortunately. Oh ok, let's not end on a sour note, have a picture of Maya as well.)
* * * * *
Just to round up this Oscars-related round of posts - the Best Picture lineup includes a couple of other films I've seen. Silver Linings Playbook seems to have been given enough of a push and greased enough palms to get a whole clutch of awards noms, though it hardly screamed out to me as being "awards quality". The fact that its main characters are dealing with mental illness probably helped, and at least the script in turn deals with them in a fair and non-patronizing manner. Again, a perfectly enjoyable film, just not a great one.
Oddly enough, the film I'd most like to see win, voting with my heart rather than my head, might well be Argo. Ben Affleck has faced almost as many accusations of playing fast and loose with the facts as Bigelow, but crucially the events in his film happened much longer ago and didn't involve much in the way of murder or torture by crap death metal. The depiction of the vast majority of Iranians as mouth-frothing fanatics harks back to Hollywood's golden era of racial stereotyping, but Argo is old-fashioned in many senses, none of them bad. The tension generated at the end, when our heroes are on the runway with the bad guys hot on their heels, is almost unbearable, even if you know that they all got home safely (oh yeah, spoiler alert. Sorry.) Artistic licence has never been so much fun.
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