Welcome to the film-related musings, complaints, and comments of Zack Clopton, an amateur film-critic, scholar, and screenwriter. Featured here are Director's Report Cards, essays, and other reviews. Enjoy!
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In retrospect, it is both rather odd and quite funny that “Rambo” launched an entire sub-genre of movies inspired by the M.I.A./P.O.W. conspiracy theory. Imagine if Jeremy Renner got super-ripped for a sequel to “The Hurt Locker” and it was an action movie about PizzaGate. And then it became so popular that entire countries pivoted their whole film industries around copying it. While it's fun to imagine that all the Ram-faux features emerging from the Philippines and Italy cut into Cannon's bottom line, Golan and Globus had actually lost their shirts on “Superman IV: The Quest for Peace” and “Masters of the Universe.” Cannon needed a hit badly and, since “Rambo III” was on the horizon, they asked Chuck Norris to go back to Vietnam for a third time. Of course, they called it “Braddock: Missing in Action III,” Cannon clearly hoping their super-soldier could become as much of a household name as Sylvester Stallone's. Chuck wasn't interested at first until his brother Aaron came up with an idea that got his attention. It would be the first feature film directed by Aaron Norris, who had previously worked mostly as a stunt coordinator. Unsurprisingly, most of his future feature credits would also star his big brother.
The prologue to “Missing in Action III” takes place during the fall of Saigon, revealing that Colonel James Braddock had a previously unmentioned wife named Lin Tan. After an incident involving a friend of her's putting on her bracelet, Braddock is led to believe that his wife is dead. Twelve years later, a missionary tracks him down in a bar and informs him that, not only is Lin Tan still alive, but she was pregnant when Braddock left the country. He has a son half a world away. While skeptical at first, the CIA trying to keep him from going back to Vietnam convinces Braddock it must be true. He sneaks back into the country and is quickly reunited with Lin and Van, the son he's never known. However, he soon runs afoul of Vietnamese General Quoc, who wants the colonel dead. Lin is killed, Braddock is tortured, and his son is taken to a camp where other half-American children are being held captive. Once Braddock gets loose, he unleashes Hell.
Here's my theory. As early as “Lone Wolf McQuade,” where he questioned the protagonist's use of alcohol, Mr. Norris was mindful of coming across as a good role model to any kids watching his movies. We also know he felt “Invasion U.S.A.” went too far in some nebulous manner. I suspect that the ultra-violence of that film and “The Delta Force” is what inspired him to begin softening his image. After trying out comedy in “Firewalker,” “Missing in Action III” would show the sensitive side of one of Chuck's deadliest hero. It turns out that Braddock, much like Wu-Tang, is for the children. The arc of the third film has the super soldier bonding with the boy who has never met him before. Though skeptical at first, Van is calling him Dad by the time the end credits roll. Braddock endures torture for his off-spring as well. He also tells his wife that he loves her, sharing several emotional moments with her before she goes the way of all of Paul Kersey's exes. To further clarify that Braddock is fighting for family first and country second now, the entire last act has him saving a whole crowd of Asian-American kids left behind in Vietnam. I guess this wouldn't be a “Missing in Action” movie without somebody being freed from a prison camp.
It's a bit of an odd decision, a character whose primary characteristics up to this point have been a propensity for blowing people up and his hatred of the Vietnamese suddenly having a softer side. However, it's not the oddest decision in the film. It's understandable why the Vietnamese government would be a little miffed at Braddock, since he killed seventy people last time he was in the country. However, “Missing in Action III” seems to take place in some alternate universe where the Vietnam War never ended. The film is explicitly set in 1988, two years after the government began various economic reforms. Relations between Vietnam and the U.S. remained strained, with various embargoes in effect, but that year marked the country officially de-listing America as a foe. Most pressingly, Vietnam was also wrapping up a long lasting and bloody occupation of Cambodia at the time, following decreased military and economic support from the Soviet Union.
“Missing in Action III,” meanwhile, depicts Vietnam as a country still actively hostile to American forces. The minute Braddock lands in the country, he's being pursued by military forces. The film's villain makes no mention of why he wants Braddock and his family dead. I mean, we can assume it's a reaction to the previous film's events but that's never mentioned. That leads to the question of what's up with that prison camp full of Amerasian children. Mixed race kids faced heavy discrimination after the war and 1988 would see the signing of the Amerasian Homecoming Act, designed to make entrance into the U.S. easier for Vietnamese people with American fathers. Obviously, a trashy sequel is not expected to have an in-depth or thoughtful treatment of a complicated international issue. However, the depiction of the Vietnam War as essentially on-going and mixed race children as prisoners of war is a confusing one. It really gives the impression that the sequel was desperately clinging to any reason to keep this action-packed story line going.
Which points to a much bigger problem with “Missing in Action III” than historical irrelevance. The narrative simply lacks much in the way of urgency. As in the first film, Braddock goes back to the country of his own accord. There's a passing subplot about the CIA trying to stop him but this is quickly forgotten, leaving the plot without any sort of time limit or deadline to drive tension. It's hard to get attached to Braddock's wife and son, as they are either dead or thrust right into the action shortly after being introduced. The sequel attempts to capture some of the sadistic malevolence of the prequel. Braddick still gets tortured by the bad guy, strapped into a device that'll fire a shotgun at his boy if he stops supporting his own weight. Aki Aleong is clearly attempting to be as viciously evil as Soon-Tek Oh was in “The Beginning.” However, it all feels listlessly executed. Joseph Zito was briefly attached to direct this one before Aaron Norris took his place. I think the film really would have benefited from the same kind of mean-spirited nuttiness seen in “Invasion U.S.A.” Aaron Norris clearly doesn't have that blood lust in him.
Once Braddock goes on the offensive to rescue his boy, the film barring his name finally starts to pick up some steam. The sequel outfits Chuck's hero with an oversized grenade launcher. He announces its presence by firing it directly into the crotch of a Vietnamese officer who just got done assaulting a teenage girl, the man exploding only after taking a dive out a window. That insane moment sets up a last third full of pyrotechnics and Chuck gunning down countless enemies. Aaron Norris might not have the sadistic instincts of Zito or Lance Hool but he's clearly very fond of shit blowing up and his brother cracking necks. After that fiery nut shot, the second funniest stunt in the film involves Chuck diving through one window, shooting some bad guys, before diving back through another window. There's a decent car chase and an exploding helicopter in there too.
“Braddock: Missing in Action III” also scores several scenes to a hilariously maudlin, Frank Stallone-esque ballad about the price of liberty and “seeing freedom in your eyes,” whatever the fuck that means. The final, set right across the Vietnam border, suggests that “Braddock” could have been better, more often. Generally speaking, the film feels mostly like a tired retread of the first one, going so far as to include a character suspiciously similar to M. Emmet Walsh as Chuck's sidekick. Perhaps Stallone was smart to send Rambo to Afghanistan for his third outing, rather than back to the jungle. We'll never know if Braddock would consider the Mujahideen fighters brave or gallant, as “Missing in Action III” grossed notably less than its predecessors and no further adventures followed. Considering how many similar action flicks filled the decade, it probably was not necessary to turn this one into a trilogy. I do like that grenade launcher though. [5/10]
[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5] [X] Facial Hair [X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall [X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face [X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest [] Sports Some Cowboy Getup
Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus were confident in their plan to rush out a movie suspiciously similar to “Rambo: First Blood Part II” six whole months before the soon-to-be blockbuster was released. So confident, in fact, that they decided to double-down and get two “Rambo” knock-offs in theaters before Sylvester Stallone donned his red bandana again. “Missing in Action” and its sequel would be filmed back-to-back. The first film would depict Colonel Braddock's escape from the Vietnamese P.O.W. camp back in early seventies. The second would show him going back, in the present day, and rescuing the men who were left behind. Lance Hool would direct the first and Joseph Zito would direct the second. Upon getting a look at the finished movies, however, Golan and Globus decided the intended sequel was better than the original. Probably because it was more directly imitative of “Rambo” and had more explosions. To resolve any confusion, they simply flipped the titles. Zito's “Missing in Action” became the first film. Hool's became “Missing in Action 2: The Beginning,” the subtitle presumably added to clarify to audiences that this was a prequel.
In the summer of 1972, Colonel James Braddock and his team would be deployed via helicopter into the jungles of Vietnam. Their mission to offer support to pinned down U.S. forces would go horribly wrong. The helicopter was shot down. Braddock and his men – Captain Nester, Lieutenant Mazilli, Corporal Opelka, and Master Sergeant Franklin – are captured by the North Vietnamese army. They spend the next two years under the brutal supervision of Colonel Yin, who delights in physically and psychologically torturing the Americans. The men are not let free as Yin schemes to get Braddock to sign a bogus confession admitting to war crimes, which he refuses to do. As the situation grows graver and men begin to die, Braddock makes his own move to escape the prison camp, free his men, and take Yin down himself.
“Missing in Action” was, of course, ridiculous agitprop designed to make American audiences hoot and cheer as revenge is taken against those nasty Vietnamese who so bruised our national ego back in 1975. Its Vietnamese characters were mostly villains, two-dimensional bad guys for our patriotic hero to vanquish. Having seen “The Beginning,” I'm surprised to say that Zito's sequel actually toned down the propagandist xenophobia of Hool's work. The North Vietnamese forces in “Missing in Action II” are depicted as almost inhuman in their sadism. Men are strung up and stabbed with knives, beaten on the regular, and kept in cages deep in the ground. They are forced to fight for their captives' amusement or stripped naked and paraded before mocking prostitutes. A notable moment has Norris hung upside down while a bag containing a starved rat is placed over his face. The torment is not merely physical. Yin regularly plays a “game” with the prisoners, in which he places a gun to their heads and pulls the trigger, only to reveal that the pistol is unloaded. He tells the boys that America has already lost the war, that no one is coming to save them. He informs Braddock that he's been declared dead and his wife has already remarried. When Franklin becomes deathly ill with malaria, his friends are told he's being injected with drugs to keep him alive when it's actually a fatal dose of opium. If that wasn't bad enough, Yin then kills Mazilli's pet chicken and hands him the dead bird.
All throughout, Yin dangles the possibility of freedom before Braddock, as long as he signs that paper admitting to bogus war crimes against the Vietnamese. The warden claims that Braddock and his men have been kept here as long as they have because they are not prisoners of war but rather criminals. History, of course, tells us that the United States armed forces did inflict horrible war crimes against non-combatants in Vietnam. The North Vietnamese and the Viet-Cong did horrible things too, mostly to the South Vietnamese. All of this is a matter of public record. War is not a children's game, where one side is good and the other is bad. Exploitation films like “Missing in Action II” hope to drive ticket sales by playing on the audience's emotions. Obviously, Americans want to see themselves as the heroes, the victims of hideous atrocities and never the perpetrators of it. By depicting the Vietnamese forces as such brutally evil people, who then have the gull to falsely accuse the Americans of being just as bad, is to further facilitate ugly cheers and whoops in 42nd Street theaters and anywhere else.
The result is a motion picture with a real malicious energy flowing through it. An early scene has an failed escape attempt ending with an American set on fire via flamethrower, his suffering lingered on. Later, when Braddock gets his hand on the same device, he turns the flame on the Vietnamese in a similarly ruthless fashion. The torture scenes and gladiatorial combat are not merely bloody but brutal too. Since this is a war movie, there's little guarantee that anyone will survive these events. Whenever a bit of hope is dangled before the P.O.W.s – a helicopter appearing overhead or an Australian photographer appearing and claiming to be from a human rights organization – it inevitably ends badly. Honestly, out of the first two "Missing in Action" films, if I had to guess which one was made by a horror movie specialist, I would assume it was this one.
"Rambo: First Blood Part II" turned its nationalistic rage against the Vietnamese into over-the-top camp, difficult to take seriously as anything but comic book theatricality. "Missing in Action" aims for something grittier and uglier. So why watch the prequel then? First off, "The Beginning" feels like one of those fifties Men's Adventures pulp story, in its focus on physical agony, tough men in tougher situations, and racist caricatures as villains. There is a cultural context to be gleamed from this motion picture, in other words. It also, eventually, does become an entertaining action movie in its own right. Once Braddock escapes the camp and turns the tide on his captives, this becomes a fast-paced enough flick with some solid stunts from Norris and some pyrotechnics. While Zito's "Missing in Action" mostly limits its star's karate abilities, "The Beginning" smartly climaxes with a one-on-one showdown between Braddock and Yin. It's a very good fight, maybe the best of Norris' whole film career up to this point. Moreover, after watching an entire movie of Colonel Yin being so wicked towards everyone, watching him get beat up is quite satisfying. It helps that Yin played with an impressively vicious glee by Soon-tek Oh, making a fine villain.
I commented in my review of the first "Missing in Action" that it seemed to feature Chuck Norris evolving into an actually semi-decent actor. Knowing that "The Beginning" was shot first reveals this as the movie where Norris finally started to put some non-kicking/non-punching skills behind his movies. Supposedly, Chuck thought about his brother's death during the scene where Braddock is forced to watch one of his men die, the martial artist actually employing a bit of what you might call the Method there. Lool manages to get a surprising degree of pathos out of Norris' eyes during the many shots of them peering through the bars of his prison. There is a sense of camaraderie between the ensemble here. None of the guys are developed much beyond one or two characteristics – Cosie Costa probably does the best as Mazilli – but you do get the feeling that they all care about each other.
"Missing in Action 2" is a hard movie to defend, in many ways. It's a fairly ugly exploitation movie, not only in terms of content but also in the real sense of rage it directs towards its villains. Villains very much meant to stand-in for an entire nation of people, or at least their military forces. The movie represents some very sour grapes from the world's super power, demonizing its enemies and then executing them. At the same time, it's well-made, ultimately becoming quite efficient in getting the intended reaction out of the viewer. It also happens to feature some pretty bad-ass Chuck Norris stuff, the reason we watch these movies after all. It's certainly a much more interesting film than the prior "Missing in Action," which was less memorable in terms of action and not as compelling in its pacing. Being a fan of action movies means liking some ethically dubious shit some times, which is the feeling I have as I give "Missing in Action 2" a positive final score. [7/10]
[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 5 outta 5] [X] Facial Hair [X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall [X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face [X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest [X] Sports Some Cowboy Getup
When U.S. military forces pulled out of Vietnam for good in 1975, over two and a half thousand servicemen remained listed as missing in action. As of this year, only 1067 have had their remains positively identified. For those who have lost a loved one in such a traumatic manner, it is understandable how they could hold onto perhaps naive hopes that their husbands, sons, or brothers might still be out there, somewhere, even as the Vietnam War slips further into the past. In 1973, President Nixon announced that all 591 American prisoners-of-war kept in Vietnam had been returned. Because the U.S. had performed secret, illegal strikes in Cambodia and Laos, admitting unclaimed bodies existed in those areas would amount to admitting to war crimes. These inconsistencies led civilian organizations to pressure the government into releasing more information on those reports. All war is abominable, and Vietnam was one atrocity after another, but every person deserves to know what happened to the people they care about.
In 1981, while under investigation for defecting to the Viet-Cong, former Marine Robert R. Garwood claimed that American prisoners-of-wars were still being held in Vietnam nearly a decade after the active fighting had ended. Whether Garwood was a turncoat or the victim of a disinformation campaign depends on what side of the political paranoia spectrum you fall on. Either way, his statements would throw fuel on the fire of a growing conspiracy theory. That U.S. servicemen were still alive and still imprisoned overseas, that both the Vietnamese and American governments knew about it, and were willfully attempting to cover up their existence and discredit those who claimed to have seen them. I don't know what meaningful intel could be gleaned from soldiers that had been stuck in prison cells for upwards of six years but, well, it was the Cold War, I guess.
In other words, a reasonable movement to locate still missing remains of deceased soldiers was soon infiltrated with crack pots. And where there be crack pots, there be con men. Names like Jack E. Bailey and Bo Gritz would attract attention for highly publicized private "rescue missions" to locate these P.O.W.s. Those two never found any imprisoned Americans but they did sell a lot of T-shirts, raise a lot of money through direct mail marketing, and make increasingly outrageous claims about their war records. Despite the questionable credulity of the theory, the concept of servicemen still imprisoned in Southeast Asia had entered the public consciousness. 1982 would see the release of “Uncommon Valor,” a film from the director of “First Blood” that depicted the rescue of live prisoners in Laos. Around that same time, Sylvester Stallone himself began to develop a “First Blood” sequel revolving around the same idea. The treatment for the film that would become “Rambo: First Blood Part II” circulated heavily in Hollywood. That's when another group of perhaps dubious ethics decided to exploit the M.I.A./P.O.W. idea to make a little money.
That party would be Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus of the Cannon Films Group. The Israeli cousins and their company had already made a name for themselves in the early eighties for their low budget hits about ninjas, breakdancing, and Charles Bronson shooting people. It has long been rumored that Golan and Globus had seen the “Rambo II” treatment and fully expected the movie to become a massive hit. Seeking to cash-in on this incoming success, they decided to rush a knock-off into theaters before the real deal. Supposedly at the same time, Chuck Norris and writer Lance Hool were already developing an action script about the M.I.A./P.O.W. claim. They took their idea to Cannon, who combined it with their already cooking “Rambo” rip-off. The resulting film was “Missing in Action,” the beginning of Chuck's prosperous relationship with Golan-Globus and the first of many would-be John Rambos to re-invade Vietnam in the eighties.
Colonel James Braddock spent two and a half years in a North Vietnamese prison camp, where him and his unit were subjected to endless torment. He managed to escape while the war still raged but knew other men were left behind. A decade later, he is still haunted by the memories. He is recruited by an investigation dispatched by the U.S. government to Ho Chi Minh City. The Vietnamese officials claim that all the P.OW.s have been returned but Braddock is not convinced. He digs up information about a supposed prison camp still active deep in the jungles of Thailand. He gains a boat from old friend Tucker as well as a motorized raft and lots of heavy artillery. With Vietnamese assassins on his trail, Braddock heads out to rescue the supposed U.S. prisoners and decimate anyone who stands in his way.
Films like “Missing in Action” and “Rambo: First Blood Part II” acted as psychic exorcisms over America's trauma from the Vietnam War. While “Rambo” began with the poignant enough promise of simply “bringing them home,” it turned into unhinged jingoism immediately. It wasn't only fantasizing about saving those that couldn't be saved but about retconning the end of the war, restoring America's metaphorical big dick by making us an undefeated superpower once again. I'm not going to say that “Missing in Action” is any better than that cause it's definitely not. However, the film is less preoccupied with playing out Cold War talking points and humbling the Soviets than it is specifically focused on the Vietnamese. Braddock's rescue mission ends with him landing a helicopter in the front yard of the Vietnamese capital and dragging the missing P.O.W.s before the country's leaders and the world press. Earlier, he sneaks into a high ranking military member's bedroom and threatens to stab him personally. Obviously, this is still an extremely stupid racist revenge fantasy. The script pointedly ignores all the terrible things the U.S. did to the Vietnamese, treats an ended war like it's still on-going, and depicts an entire country as populated solely by evil Asians. However, there's also a specificity to the anger on-display here that, if nothing else, feels like a release of very genuine emotions.
Considering Chuck's brother died in Vietnam, it's not difficult to assume he was personally invested in conveying that feeling. In fact, I think you can visibly tell that is the case. After having the starring role in eight feature films, Chuck Norris seems to be genuinely attempting to act in “Missing in Action.” When dramatically awakening from a nightmare in his sweaty hotel room and glaring angrily at the “Spider-Man” cartoon playing on the TV, there actually seems to be a degree of still simmering rage behind Norris' eyes. Rather than vacillate between a more pissed-off action hero mode and a more affable persona, Chuck actually maintains this driving anger throughout most of the movie. When having a tense conversation with a former rival or angrily firing off his guns, that lingering rage is still under his stern face. There aren't even too many flat or awkward line-readings. This is not especially deep or nuanced acting. However, Norris has either gotten comfortable enough on-camera to no longer appear stiff or inconsistent or he actually put some thought into the thoughts and feelings of his character.
Unfortunately, while Chuck has clearly learned some lessons from his past movies, “Missing in Action” repeats a mistake that a lot of the star's earlier films did. It takes way too damn long to get to the good stuff. The first half is devoted largely to Chuck, dressed all in black and sneaking around the Vietnamese embassy. There are long scenes of him investigating leads, gathering supplies, and preparing for his return to Vietnam. There are some decent action beats during this first hour. A knife-wielding spy attacking Chuck in a seedy bar or him nearly avoiding a bomb going off in his hotel room aren't bad. However, over half of “Missing in Action's” runtime feels like an extended prologue to the stuff the audience is actually here to see. I suppose the idea is that Braddock is not a trained martial arts, lessening the amount of melee combat in the film... Which does not stop Chuck from utilizing a few high kicks.
After entirely too much build-up, “Missing in Action” finally begins to give the viewer what they are here for. By the time this film was released, the Cannon Film Group had already produced “Exterminator 2” and Luigi Cozzi's “Hercules.” The studio's reputation for explosive action on a budget was beginning to take shape. The required pyrotechnics are put on display here. Chuck blows up an entire encampment. A clever gag involves a grenade wedged into the back of a truck. There's no shortage of shoot-outs and vehicle chases. M. Emmet Walsh, essentially playing the film's comic relief, even gets in on the bloodshed. It's competently assembled and mildly diverting, as far as the lizard brain pleasures go. Ultimately, the only action beat that proves truly memorable is an extended sequence devoted to that bulletproof speed boat chasing around a Vietnamese gunship. It goes airborne at one point and you can visibly see either Chuck or his convincing stunt double flip out of it, so some real work was put into that one.
The film wouldn't just begin Chuck Norris' fruitful collaboration with Cannon. It would also completely shift the career of its director, Joseph Zito. Zito got his start making sleazy exploitation films in New York before directing “The Prowler,” one of the best stand-alone slasher films of the early eighties. That film got him the job of directing “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” easily one of the best entries in that particular franchise. I suppose his horror work proved Zito could bring a film with elaborate effects in on schedule and budget, which is probably why Cannon selected him for this gig. Zito brought along his regular director of photographer, João Fernandes. The team continues some of the atmospheric night shots that made their slasher films stand-out. A shot of Chuck sneaking around a staircase in the shadows is a good example of that. A sequence where Braddock is attacked by a knife-wielding assassin in his bedroom is probably the scene that most indicates that the same guy who made “The Prowler” also made this. Unfortunately, Fernandes and Zito's style fades into the background the more action focused the movie becomes.
Golan and Globus' plan to get “Missing in Action” in theaters six months before “First Blood Part II” paid off. The movie became a hit, the highest grossing of Chuck Norris' entire career. Clearly the producers and audiences were satisfied with this one. However, I found myself hoping for a little bit more from this one. The cultural context around it and Norris' clear personal connection to the idea makes “Missing in Action” fitfully interesting. However, better pacing and more chances for its leading man to show off his skills would've improved this. [6/10]
[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 3 outta 5] [X] Facial Hair [X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall [] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face [X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest [] Sports Some Cowboy Getup
Something I've been thinking about a lot lately is the limits of documentary film making and cinema in general. What responsibility does a director have to his subject? The point at which journalism becomes exploitation, dramatization turns into a perversion of the truth, is hard to find sometimes. The question of whether it's appropriate to use real footage or audio within the context of a commercial film usually depends on this nebulous thing we call “good taste.” “The Voice of Hind Rajab” unavoidably brings this question to mind. It straddles the line between an adaptation of real events and a documentation of it, by using the actual audio from something tragic that is still fresh in the global consciousness. The ethics of all this are clearly something worth discussing. Whatever qualms you might have with the idea, it did not bother the Academy. They nominated “The Voice of Hind Rajab” for Best International Film.
The day was January 29th, 2024. The invasion of Gaza by the Israel Defense Forces is on-going. The social workers and organizers of the Palestine Red Crescent Society take calls, texts, and e-mails from those endangered in the war, trying to do what they can to help. They receive a call from the 15 year old Layan Hamadeh. Her family was escaping the chaos when their vehicle was shelled by Israeli forces. Her aunt, uncle and all but one other cousin were killed. As the workers inside the Red Crescent office attempt to receive clearance for the safe passage of paramedics, Layan is killed. This leaves six year old Hind Rajab as the sole living person in the car. The operators Rana, Omar, Mahdi, and Nisreen stay on the line with the little girl as they do everything they can to get assistance to her before it's too late.
The moment from “The Voice of Hind Rajab” that sticks the most in my mind is among its more mundane. All throughout the film, Rana expresses anger and frustration with his supervisor, Mahdi. The latter is usually on the line with government officials, to approve safe passage for the paramedics into the war zone. While waiting for the call back they are seeking, both men retreat to the bathroom. Each sit on either side of a stall, on the floor, and pull out their cell phones. They begin to play some sort of game together. This scene, to me, captures so accurately the feeling of powerlessness in the face of a crisis. Both men have done everything they can in this awful situation. This does not bring them any comfort or solace, not when a child's life is in danger. All they can do for their own mental health is try and find a distraction for a few minutes. Anybody who has spent time in a waiting room while a loved one was in surgery or something similar can relate to this feeling. It's the same feeling we have any time history altering events are playing out a world away, something many of us have been experiencing lately.
The inclusion of such a moment, seemingly unimportant, is a testament to the realism captured on “The Voice of Hind Rajab.” The opening titles of the film confirms what those who might not be familiar with these events can probably guess. Hind Rajab was killed by Israeli military forces that day, along with six family members and two paramedics. There's no doubt about what the heartbreaking conclusion to this story will be. Despite that, writer/director Kaouther Ben Hania manages to capture the sense of sickening uncertainty the people in the office that day felt. As they communicate with Hind, they try to get crucial information out of a panicking little girl. When that doesn't work, they attempt to calm her however they can. While it feels disrespectful to use this term about real events, “The Voice of Hind Rajab” operates very much like a thriller. You are on edge, almost feeling sick with tension, watching this play out.
Part of this is achieved by the extremely concise cinematography and editing. D.P. Juan Sarmiento G. keeps the camera tightly on the actors' faces. The common place setting feels more and more like a prison as the wall seems to close in, speaking to the unbearable tension the characters are feeling. The actors also deserves a huge amount of the credit. Their faces become landscapes as they panic and worry. Saja Kilani is a raw nerve of desperation, crying, sweating, his face in agony. Clara Khoury is at the center of a heartbreaking moment, trying to get Hind to recite the Islamic prayer simply to keep her calm and quiet. Amer Hlehel has one of the harder job, playing a man who has to navigate the labyrinth of bureaucracy when time is very much of the matter.
“The Voice of Hind Rajab” is certainly an extremely well made film, with fantastic performances and strong craft on display. This proves that the producers could have created a convincing re-creation of Hind's phone calls that day. The decision to use the actual voice of this dead little girl is presumably a choice of activism. The filmmakers want us to hear and feel what Hind went through, to remove any doubt in our minds about the genocide going on in Gaza. Of course, anyone likely to watch the film already know that. And this is when I begin to wonder, once again, if film making is actually effective activism. It's a powerful, distressing film and, perhaps, a tribute to those who work for Red Crescent. But it doesn't bring Hind back, help the children just like her, or stop the crimes being committed. So donate to aid in Gaza, please. [8/10]
When series creator Jeffrey Reddick was first approached about making a sequel to “Final Destination,” he expressed a desire to expand the mythology and not merely repeat the first film's story. Perhaps he was having a premonition in that moment himself, the writer realizing that he had created a formula that could easily be replicated for future installments. That's exactly what the second film did, more-or-less repeating the structure of the first: Someone has a vision of a horrible accident and escapes death. From there, their friends fall to one grisly incident after another, trying to unravel “Death's design” before their turn is up. James Wong and Glen Morgan would return for “Final Destination 3,” which suggested an attempt to hew closer to the original's serious tone than part two's dark sense of humor. However, the duo was clearly not interested in messing with what worked before, as the third entry in the series didn't stray from the established model.
And so: The character who has a vision this time is named Wendy, a photographer for her high school year book. The disaster that she foresees is a derailing of a roller coaster, that splatters her and her high school friends on the tracks. True to form, she escapes the disaster with a handful of other young people. Shortly afterwards, two of the girls who were nearly on the ride that night die in a freak tanning bed accident. Researching previous events that mirror their own, Wendy soon realizes that escaping death has only delayed their fates. The grim reaper is coming to collect and he's pissed, engineering far nastier ends for them. Using her photographs, which seem to foretell the method of death, Wendy and her boyfriend Jason seek to figure out Death's much-referenced design.
“Final Destination 2” was awesome because of how well executed its executions were but also because the script was surprisingly smart. Small touches and brief scenes gave the characters way more depth than was required of a gussied-up slasher flick. Sadly, “Final Destination 3” makes no such attempt. Rather than the varied number of ages and backgrounds last time, our characters are all high school students. Not especially distinct ones either. Teenage girls with the names Ashley and Ashlyn are intentionally interchangeable, perky and ditzy popular girl stereotypes that are never developed beyond that. Lewis – played by someone named Texas Battle – is a hyper-macho jock and Frankie Cheeks is a perpetually horny doofus. “So Weird's” Alexz Johnson appears as one-half of a goth couple, with Kris Lemche doing a passable imitation of Christian Slater in “Heathers” as the other half. These two are more memorable only by the standards of the rest of the film's generic lot.
Mary Elizabeth Winstead, one of the few actors from these films to go onto wider success, is our heroine. We only get a small taste of the snarky charm that would make Winstead a star here, Wendy otherwise being a generic lead. Her male co-star is not that memorable. Wong and Morgan's script makes an attempt to add a little more depth to these blocks of human spam. Before getting on the roller coaster, Kimberly describes a fear of losing control. This is paired with several baffling references to the September 11th terrorist attacks. The idea seems to be that all of us are at the mercy of random fate. Invoking a real world tragedy in your trashy horror sequel is certainly of debatable taste. Moreover, it's apparent by now that, for all its talk about fate and choice, the “Final Destination” universe is a predetermined one. The characters get a vision, try everything they can to escape the vengeful reaper, but it's no use. They are all doomed to die, making any attempt at a deeper thematic concern come off as empty posturing.
Wong and Morgan have clearly come to understand that these films are, functionally, identical to slasher movies. These cast members are destined to be defined more by their deaths than their personalities. A smart sequel would've continued the thread of black humor that was present in the second, to at least enliven these executions. “Final Destination 3” tries some of that. When two teen girls cook inside sealed tanning beds, this is contrasted with the caskets at their funeral. The build-up to jock-o Lewis' doom is clearly a mocking treatment of locker room machismo. These nods at humor go hand-in-hand with attempts to build tension. Vehicles careening out of control in a fast food drive-through lane or the climax, set at a fireworks filled festival, certainly attempt to grab that sense of escalating suspense. However, that we don't care much about the characters leaves any attempt at suspense largely inert. One of the girls who gets speared near the end barely has a name, for an example of how hard it is to give a shit about these guys.
That leaves “Final Destination 3” to subsists on what many slasher sequels survive on: Whether the gory death scenes are any fun or not. Some of them definitely are. The tanning bed sequence is novel in its grisliness and claustrophobic settings. Someone getting reduced to red paste when a subway train skids into a wall is some nasty stuff. An improbably functioning nail gun gets a good moment. However, I found the mayhem in “Final Destination 3” a little too assisted by CGI. That's the case with a weight room head smashing and a body split in twain by a falling sign. In general, the “freak accidents” here simply lack the brutality and energy of those in the second. This is most true of the roller coaster crash, which is far too light-weight in terms of effects and lacking in visceral impact.
When released on DVD, “Final Destination 3” was paired with an odd ball gimmick. A feature called “Choose Their Fate” allowed the viewer to select different outcomes for some of the characters and story turns. Ideally, that made “Final Destination 3” a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure horror flick, with a high number of options to explore and remix. I never owned the physical disc, so I haven't personally had a chance to experience the film this way. From what I've read, the functionality of that is a lot less cool than it sounds. “Final Destination 3” would be another box office success, out-grossing the previous installments. Most fans seem to think it's alright. I've seen far worst sequels but this one has always lacked that morbid zip of the second, in my opinion. Obviously the missing ingredient was Tony Todd, who is reduced to a mere voice cameo here. [6/10]
Despite almost two hundred years of uninterrupted American imperialism, U.S. forces limping away from Vietnam in 1973 left a scar on my nation that it never truly recovered from. Of course, the Vietnam War didn't fuck up the American psyche because we lost it, necessarily, but more so because it was an enormously unpopular conflict that exposed the rotten, rat-fucking heart at the center of this country. Nevertheless, the supposed silent majority that supported the war effort seems to have won out a decade after the ceasefire was signed. On the pop culture front anyway, the massive popularity of “Rambo: First Blood Part II” suggested America was ready to retcon its recent failures and declare itself the biggest bad-asses in the world again. Rambo's success created an entire sub-genre of lower budget imitators. One such example was the same year's “Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except.” The film would probably not be worthy of much discussion if it wasn't the brain-child of Josh Becker. Part of Sam Raimi's merry band of lunatics, Becker cooked up the premise for the film with Bruce Campbell and Scott Spiegel during the post-production of "The Evil Dead." Raimi himself plays the villain in the film, further cementing its status as a footnote in the epic story of a beloved cult classic. As far as eighties vetsploitation goes, this one also comfortably crosses over into horror, making it seasonally fitting viewing for September.
After refusing to go to senior prom with Sally, his teenage girlfriend, Jack Stryker was deployed to Vietnam. During a four year tour, he survived multiple deadly missions and bonded with three members of his squadron: Sgt. Jackson, 2nd Lt. Miller, and Lt. Captain Tim "Sex Machine" Tyler. Receiving a crippling injury during an especially perilous attack, Stryker returns home. Walking with a cane now, he hopes to live a simple life with his dog, out in the woods. He attempts to reconnect with Sally and her uncle Otis. Unfortunately, a band of murderous hippies are rampaging through the area. Led by a blood-thirsty nut with a messiah complex, they've been breaking into homes, kidnapping families, and subjecting them to torture and bizarre rituals. After Otis is killed and Sally is taken by this same cult, Stryker reunites with his old war buddies and heads out once again to kill. This time, not for their country but for the people they love.
Becker first conceived of this story as a short film in 1980, meaning Jeff Stryker predates any cinematic depictions of John Rambo. At the same time, it's still hard to watch "Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except" as an extremely low-budget attempt to recreate Sylvester Stallone's second most iconic character. With the woods of Michigan unconvincingly standing in for the jungles of Vietnam, the first half of the film features quite a lot of footage of macho men doing masculine bonding gunning down enemy insurgents in rice paddy hats. Like "First Blood," the film sees battle-scarred vets utilizing their combat skills in a rural, at-home location. However, as an action movie, Becker's vision was unavoidably hampered by his lack of funds. Most of the movie is set in indistinct woods and fields, scenes mostly shot in Becker and Campbell's backyards. The action choreography is, at best, awkward. A martial arts fight with some bikers outside a bar feels less like a proper brawl and more like some kids messing around. The last third is mostly made up of one-on-one confrontations between the heroes and villains – a lot easier to organize than full-scale assault – and the movie is noticeably lacking in the pyrotechnics you typically associate with motion pictures of this ilk.
In truth, a lot of "Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except" feels like kids screwing around in their backyards with their dad's camera. This is also an not entirely inaccurate description of how Raimi, Becker, Campbell, and Spiegel got their start, filming zero budget shenanigans more for their own amusement than anything else. I don't think Josh Becker is a filmmaker of the caliber of his friends though. “Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except” has all the awkwardness of “The Evil Dead's” early scenes and none of the manic energy or lo-fi ingenuity of the rest of it. Scenes are devoted to Stryker peeing on the side of the road while getting hassled by a cop, Otis working his day job as a bartender, and the trio of war bodies cruising for girls. Some of this stuff becomes plot relevant later. Stryker picking up his beloved dog in an elongated early sequence gives him another reason to seek revenge on the long-haired loonies later on. For the most part though, the film feels every much like what it is: a somewhat belabored attempt to expand a short film to feature length and some small town guys having fun on-camera.
Despite its limitations, Becker's film isn't totally without merit either. “Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except” makes for a weak-sauce war movie and an extremely middling slice-of-life drama. As a campy splatter flick, however, it works a lot better. The sequence devoted to Raimi's unnamed cult leader performing a home invasion and massacring the family inside is the closest Becker comes to creating some genuine tension. There's a striking image or two, such as when the evil hippies used a tied-up Ted Raimi as a target for throwing darts. Sam's performance is all wild-eyed stares, crazed smiles, and unhinged ranting when dipping his hands into a bucket of blood and molesting a bound female. Once Stryker and his boys take the fight to the villains, “Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except” becomes a display for some home-made, super bloody special effects. The delight the film takes with thinking up violent ends for its increasingly outlandish henchman proves that the action genre and the slasher template aren't all that far apart some times. When Raimi's declares himself to be Jesus Christ and Stryker rebuffs him by saying “No, you're not... You're dead!,” right before the bad guy suffers an implausibly gruesome fate, is when the film is operating on the right level of campy bullshit.
“Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except” has a musical theme reminiscent of Jerry Goldsmith's “First Blood” score too, while also sharing some of that movie's weirdo right-wing politics. This movie definitely leans into the legend of Vietnam vets being spat upon after returning home, squaring them off as the real heroes against the hippy degenerates. What Becker's film is missing is a charismatic leading man like Stallone. The prototype short – entitled “Stryker's War,” Becker's preferred title before the same guy who renamed “The Book of the Dead” to “The Evil Dead” insisted on something more extravagant – starred Bruce Campbell. Bruce was a S.A.G. member by the time the feature was made, meaning he couldn't participate in a non-union production. (He still stopped by for a cameo as a newscaster.) An actor named Brian Schulz, in his one and only credit, played the lead instead. His acting here does not make me believe we missed out on much when he retired from acting. If Campbell had starred in “Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except,” it would doubtlessly be better. As it exists now, the splattery mayhem in the back half and one or two amusing moment makes it a fleetingly entertaining curio for fans of the creative team. [5/10]
“The Outer Limits” is a show that had a bad habit of over-explaining itself sometimes. Such is the case with “A Feasibility Study,” an episode that would've been scarier if it didn't tell you what it was about within the opening minutes. That would be: Ralph leaves for work one morning without eating breakfast, much to his wife Rhea's annoyance. Next door, Dr. Holm's marriage to Andrea is on the verge of collapse, because of her desire to be more than a wife or mother. As Ralph is driving to work, he encounters a thick fog, inhabited by strange creatures. A similarly odd boy is found in a near-by garage. Rhea notices that the motor is missing from her car. Soon, Dr. Holm is informed of what is happening: Aliens beings called Luminoids, that changed into immobile stones as they age, have abducted an entire city block. This is a test to see if humans will make suitable slaves for them. If it's successful, the Luminoids will transport every human on Earth to their world. Upon discovering that humans will mutate into rocky creatures too if they have physical contact with the Luminoids, Dr. Holm debates what to do.
Being a product of the Cold War era, when the threat of nuclear annihilation was in the air at all times, “The Outer Limits” did a few episodes about an apocalypse. “A Feasibility Study” isn't about the end of the world, much less the atom bomb, but it sure feels like it is. The symptoms of the alien pathogen is tumor-like growths bursting from the skin and slowly consuming the body, a sci-fi exaggeration of any of the cancers radiation can cause. At one point, Andrea is caught glowing in the dark, also bringing the side effects of radioactivity to mind. The impenetrable fog that surrounds the stolen town seems reminiscent of fallout to me. This pairs well with a downbeat atmosphere. The characters are faced with only two outcomes: Be enslaved workers for alien overlords for the rest of their lives or die a slow and painful death. It's a rather grim scenario and everyone is in a fittingly hopeless mood.
“A Feasibility Study” certainly exploits this doom-y ambiance with some nightmarish visuals. The shots of lumpy Luminoids emerging from the fog are well done. Director Byron Haskin – a veteran of science fiction, best known for “The War of the Worlds,” “From the Earth to the Moon,” and “Robinson Crusoe on Mars” – does contribute some nicely shadowy shots here and there. The transformed humans look appropriately grotesque and the Luminoids are memorably bizarre sights. However, “A Feasibility Study” ultimately gets a little too sanctimonious for its own good. Sam Wanamaker plays Dr. Holm as a self-important jerk, who doesn't seem displeased by the idea of his wife having a life outside the house. While standing behind a prominently lit crucifix, he monologue extensively and a case for sacrificing himself. That's a bit on the nose, don't you think? At least those early scenes are creepy though. [6/10]
It warms my heart to see that, as far back as the sixties, the importance of Halloween was understood. At least within the Addams' household, as the family celebrated the holiday again in its second season. The October frivolity is interrupted when Wednesday returns home from trick-or-treating, dismayed. One of the neighbors informed her that there is no such thing as witches. Upset that their daughter has been fed such a vicious lie, Gomez and Morticia cook up a plan to prove that witches are real. They attempt to find a witch in the phone book but none are available. They then conduct a séance with Aunt Singe, a distant relative burned at Salem. Grandmama reasons that any witches are going to be very busy on Halloween, so she devises her own scheme with Lurch, having the butler stand in for Aunt Singe at the séance. He ends up inadvertently promising Wednesday that “Aunt Singe” will appear that night, putting the two in a bit of a pickle. Fate has other plans though...
This is another season two episode of “The Addams Family” that sometimes seems like a series of gags hung on the loosest plot possible. Now, the gags are ones I enjoy. The running joke of Gomez being driven into a lusty frenzy any time his wife speaks French crops up here in not one but two unexpected ways. A bizarre variation on bobbing for apples also shows up. However, I think this one does loose the thread a little at times too. Such as when Gomez shows up with a horse, a joke I'm still not entirely sure I understand. The finale, in which an adult trick-or-treater shows up dressed as a witch right as the family requires one, does lead to the predictable joke of an outsider getting freaked out by Addams' style. Feels like it's been a while since the show has returned to that particular chestnut.
Still, this one has more strengths than weaknesses. The script pairs up Lurch and Grandmama, two characters that rarely interact, which leads to some fun. I got a kick out of the scene where the old woman talks to the butler in the kitchen, him giving an especially dead-pan answer when asked about his weekend plans. The séance sequence is a lot of fun, precisely because it puts Lurch and Grandmama in positions – forced to act like an old lady, being suspicious – that are unusual for them. The same scene also introduces another member of the extended Addams family. Cousin Cackle is a rather troll-like old man who communicates exclusively in mad laughs. He also rather resembles the pyromaniacal Saul from “The Old Dark House,” up to also having previously lived in the attic. Always nice to see this show admit that connection. Also, Morticia outright invokes Satan during the séance, which I truly didn't expect. Corny as it appears now, “The Addams Family” actually was kind of edgy for 1964, wasn't it? [6/10]
From his origins on the so-called "chitlin circuit" to his seemingly limitless list of movies, TV shows, and stage plays, Tyler Perry's work has been defined by broad comedy, straining-to-the-rafters melodrama, overbearing sentimentality, and Southern Baptist moralizing. This combination has made Perry extremely wealthy and popular but never well received with the intellectual crowd. In fact, he's come under quite a lot of criticism from other black filmmakers for perpetuating stereotypes. Spike Lee referred to Perry's work as "coonery buffoonery" and it was viciously parodied on "The Boondocks." All of this is to say that the Academy has never come calling for Tyler Perry, despite his attempts to catch their attention. Perry's cultural dominance has long since fallen past its peak, especially now that most of his movies are easily ignored Netflix productions. Despite that, in 2025, one of his films has finally earned an Oscar nomination. Perry's latest feature film, "The Six Triple Eight," grabbed a nod for Best Original Song. This is mostly thanks to the music branch's running gag of nominated song-writer Diane Warren every year and refusing to let her win but I'm sure Perry is bragging about the occasion in one of his massive properties or strangely empty writer's rooms.
As you might anticipate, "The Six Triple Eight" is based on an inspiring true story. Lena King, a black girl, and Abrams David, a Jewish boy, are fearful of pursuing their romance in 1940s America as World War II rages overseas. After Abrams dies in combat, Lena enlists against the wishes of her mother. Becoming part of the black Women's Army Corps, Lena makes friends and faces discrimination from white authorities. Led by the fiery Captain Charity Adams, the battalion is not deployed until a particularly difficult objective is found for them, to confirm the bosses' racist conceptions about black women. That would be to sort through the millions of letters sent to the front that have been left undelivered, a seemingly insurmountable task. With only six months to complete the task and based in a run-down French boarding school, the women of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion do everything they can to complete the arduous task before them.
I'll be honest, I'm not that familiar with Tyler Perry's output. Watching about half of "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" on TV was enough to confirm to me that I am not the target audience for his creations. Despite my limited exposure to the director's trademarks, "The Six Triple Eight" does nothing to dispel the preconceived notions I have about his work. Perry works at a staggering rate. This is his twenty-sixth directorial credit and his third to be released in 2024, which can be added to the list of seventeen TV shows and twenty-four plays he's directed since 1993. If you wonder how one man can be behind so many productions, "The Six Triple Eight" quickly reveals the answer. The film's characters do not have inner lives. Each one is an immediately understandable archetype. Lena is a virginal heroine, so pure that she resists the gentlemanly advances of a handsome black soldier until she has properly grieved Abrams. Her mother is tough, only seconds away from making a stern "mmmhmmmm" sound. Captain Adams falls into a similar role, the fiery black woman who refuses to back down from any challenge nor to apologize for her own existence. There's also a big sassy black woman, whose profanity scandalizes her bunk mates and is introduced being unable to squeeze her irrepressibly curves into a standard military uniform.
That Perry reduces real life people, with histories and complexities like any human being, to such broadly sketched stereotypes should be unsurprising. "The Six Triple Eight" operates as a hackneyed melodrama at every turn. I have no doubt that the real life 6888th Battalion faced unspeakable levels of discrimination and prejudice. At the same time, the white antagonists of the film are so cartoonishly evil. Dean Norris plays the racist general as utterly flabbergasted at the existence of women of color, while also making him a mumbling figure of slack jawed incompetence. The movie also includes a horrible white chaplain, who derides Captain Adams as sinful from his pulpit. This leads to Adams giving a shouted and inspiring speech about her will to succeed, resulting in a slow clap from her cadets. That's the kind of tawdry emotional exaggeration that informs the entire movie. The WACs are put down every step of the way until they are heroically lauded for their actions. Any given scene is liable to burst into swelling strings in the soundtrack and blubbering tears from the characters.
In execution, such a glurgey script feels more akin to a cable network movie of the week than an Oscar-nominated motion picture. Perhaps that's another answer to how Perry is able to crank 'em out the way he does, that he brings a television-like production style to his movies. "The Triple Six Eight" certainly looks like a TV show. The cinematography is warm but flat, with little in the way of notable colors or striking camera movements. This stale visual sense is most apparent during the few times "The Triple Six Eight" goes to the battle field. Tyler Perry and his team do not show much competence at creating thrilling, visceral, or intense combat sequences. Heavy-handed CGI is used whenever there is an explosion, sending soldiers flying into the air like video game avatars. A horribly unconvincing dummy puts in an early appearance during an awkward run through a war zone. That inexperience with pyrotechnics appears again during an ostensibly suspenseful moment in which a truck drives over a landmine. That scene ends in a blast so silly looking, I laughed and immediately felt bad about it afterwards.
The only way you can tell that "The Six Triple Eight" wasn't made for Lifetime is the presence of recognizable movie stars. Kerry Washington plays Captain Adams, practically shouting all her dialogue at a faux-inspirational pitch. Washington is a good actress but any subtly or wit is smothered by the treacliness of the material. Ebony Obsidian, previously of the understated "If Beale Street Could Talk," plays Lena as a delivery machine for weeping emotions. Lena is so totally defined by her bawling grief that her dead lover appears to her in fantasies or visions, somehow the corniest touch in the movie. Still, I maintain that Norris is given the worst treatment, mugging non-stop at the evil white general. Perry's BFF Oprah Winfrey stops by for a cameo and Susan Sarandon appears as Eleanor Roosevelt for some reason.
"The Six Triple Eight" is all too aware of how inspirational it wants audiences to find it. The film ends with an extended tribute to the real women of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion. That post-script goes on so long, as if Perry and his team really want you to understand how important these women – and the movie he made about them – truly are. Maybe that pre-credits teaser is so lengthy because it also showcases Warren's song, "The Journey." It's a perfectly cromulent ballad, its emotions as overblown as the movie it accompanies but considerably shorter. As far as random movies I had to watch because Warren wrote a song for it and the Academy can't stand to leave her out every year, "The Six Triple Eight" is at least less inexplicable than "Tell It Like a Woman." It's an embarrassingly shmaltzy melodrama, bereft of subtly and depth, that smothers a good true story in Hollywood bullshit. Yet I won't remember anything about it in twenty-four hours either, so I'm not too offended. See ya next year, Diane. [5/10]
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science must simply love to hate Vladimir Putin. I mean, I agree that Putin is, ya know, a terrible human being. However, I first noticed the Academy's tendency to favor documentaries critical of Russia's president in 2018, when “Icarus” pulled off a surprise win in that category. In the last two years, the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature have gone to filmscritical of Putin or the War in Ukraine. At least one other has been nominated in that time. This year has brought another film about the invasion of Ukraine to the Documentary Feature category. “Porcelain War” at least has a different perspective than the previous films on the topic but the question does remain: Will it continue the pattern of Academy voters feeling like they are sticking it to a de-facto dictator by watching a movie that makes them angry at him?
Before February of 2022, when Putin's “special military operation to demilitarize” Ukraine began, Slava Leontyev, Anya Stasenko, and Andrey Stefanov were artists. They fashioned sculptures of fantastical creatures out of porcelain that were then painted with colorful scenes or patterns. After the war began, their once peaceful lives changed forever. Slava began working as a machine gun trainer, helping turn normal Ukrainian citizens into battle-ready soldiers. Anya and Andrey began assisting the military as well. Despite being knee-deep in the conflict now, the trio continue to make art in defiance of this attempt to destroy their country. “Porcelain War” is largely composed of footage that Stasenko and Stefanov collected themselves.
Ostensibly, “Porcelain War” is a movie about finding the will to create during a time of destruction. When missiles are falling from the sky every day, when Ukrainian citizens have had their lives utterly overturned and people are dying around them all the time, what value does something as prosaic as “art” have? Anya and Slava's work are mostly composed of cute little porcelain figures. Over the course of the film, we seem them make an owl, a very unicorn-like horse, and a super cute spiny lizard. This is not the kind of art that challenges the status quo or seeks to make a major political statement... However, when your home has been invaded and a foreign government is killing your neighbors, making anything at all becomes a revolutionary act. I believe that personal expression and exercises of imagination are a fundamentally hopeful and uniquely human attribute. The Ukrainians' art proves that they were there, that they existed, and that they did not allow a violent conflict to stifle the people they are.
This is what “Porcelain War” claims to be about anyway. It's a very inspirational idea and one that the filmmakers, who are also the on-screen personalities, repeat a few times. They craft the grand metaphor, that the Ukrainian people are like porcelain, a material that can be shattered but is almost impossible to otherwise destroy. That's a nice bit of poetry and, if it paired with a film about making art during a time of tragedy, it might be more compelling. However, “Porcelain War” is only partially about the instinct to make things. Instead, much more of the film is devoted to on-the-ground interviews with the Ukrainian soldiers and footage of their fight against the Russians.
“Porcelain War” is not as harrowing as “20 Days in Mariupol,” last year's Oscar winner for Documentary Feature. In fact, editors Brendan Bellomo, Aniela Sidorska, and Kelly Cameron seem to have a very different goal in mind. This is not a movie so much about documenting the horrors being inflicted on Ukraine by an invading force. It's more about the countrymen fighting back. Multiple montages are devoted to showing ordinary people, men and women, undergoing the training necessary to become killers. Tanks rolling down roads, rocket launchers firing, and soldiers loading their rifles are tensely photographed. There is footage from drones of bombs dropping on tanks. The tone here seems to be one of “Fuck yeah, Ukraine!” I think Putin is evil, the invasion of Ukraine is immoral, and people have the right to defend themselves. But I still felt super weird watching what is a self-admitted piece of propaganda, about a real war, with footage of actual combat.
This is not an antiwar film, in other words. Which runs counter to the high-minded idea of art as a form of defiance and self-expression during a time of conflict. “Porcelain War” never attempts to correlate these two seemingly opposed instincts. The film will cut between footage of the artists making their sculptures, the soldiers admiring the little dragon, and bombs falling and guns firing. Much of the film is made up of interviews with the artists, discussing missing their families in other countries or their experiences during evacuation. “Porcelain War” repeatedly returns to Slava's dog, a brave little terrier named Frodo. That is the kind of personal, human-perspective of a war that you'd expect a doc like this to deliver. The movie attempts to re-center itself on its artistic ideas with animated sequences, bringing the paintings on the porcelain sculptures to life. These moments feel like they are from a totally different movie than shots of soldiers joking around and talking about their cause or shaky, handheld footage of running through a building during a firefight.
Many of “Porcelain War's” sequences are beautifully photographed. The shots of the country home, plums of smoke in the distance from the near-by fighting, are haunting. The drone shots of the blasted out city are effecting. However, the film left me feeling seriously torn in other ways. I think war is a horrible act, even when it can be justified, in so much as such a thing can ever be justified. The tone the film takes ultimately left me uncomfortable. I think a keener focus on the artistic desire would have led to a more coherent film. Instead, “Porcelain War” is pulled between higher-minded goals and a piece of pro-Ukraine agitprop that doesn't interrogate the more difficult considerations of waging war. [6/10]
