The film American Sniper has been the subject of much controversy since its release and subsequent nominations for the Academy Awards. The polarization is not exactly typical, however. Instead of being split along party lines as one might expect, the rift goes deeper. Much like the movie Fury, also released recently (though not accompanied by such high praise), some people see a clear anti-war message, while others see it as glorification of violence. Others still say that both these films failed to deliver a clear and coherent message, and instead portrayed the chaotic dichotomy of war and valor, without drawing any meaningful conclusions.
At first glance, I can see why many (mostly those on the left) claim that American Sniper is a clear glorification of the war on terror. The movie does seem to white-wash the military ambition, casting it in a light of long-suffering patriotism, devoid of any contradictory evidence or arguments. With a little more thorough analysis, however, one must consider the possibility that Clint Eastwood is being a bit more clever in his portrayal.
To those in the camp that consider American Sniper little more than a recruitment strategy of the military, sponsored by a big Hollywood conservative, I would draw attention to two previous films by Eastwood: Flags of our Fathers and Letters From Iwo Jima. The two films were shot back-to-back, from the perspective of the U.S. soldiers and the Japanese soldiers respectively. Eastwood has a singular talent for portraying an individual perspective on film, free from alternate viewpoints and distracting controversy.
Eastwood is very subtle in his criticisms (as he seems to avoid revealing them), and it takes a keen eye to catch the true message behind his work. The message is buried in the story, and is completely independent of Eastwood’s own opinions. The message is in the perspective. Chris Kyle’s perspective is obviously flawed; so obviously that any intelligent audience member questions the underlying motives for his actions. They cause one to question the efficacy of his actions, and of the actions of the military as a whole. The perspective is so one-sided that it begs many questions-- exactly the questions that are being asked by those against the war on terror.
The reason the film seems to some like pro-military propaganda is that they do not believe that a worldview like the one portrayed in the film exists. It’s such a foreign perspective to so many leftists, they have a hard time accepting that it could be real. The genius in the film lies in its ability to pass along this perspective, with no judgement, no criticism, and no translation. It was Chris Kyle’s life as he saw it, with no distracting internal contradictions; except those apparent to the audience.
The simplistic (and inaccurate) rationale that drives Kyle into the military in the first place was the first quirked eyebrow for me. As the film goes on, the hints that this is not merely a hero-making bio-flick keep stacking up; the flippant, dogmatic justifications for violence; the denial of PTSD; the obsessive dedication to “country” at the expense of his family (all the while claiming it was all for his family).
This approach reminds me of the riveting German film Der Untergang, portraying the final days of the Third Reich. The filmmakers do not need to go to great lengths to demonize the leaders of the Nazi regime. They portray the characters in the film as realistically and as humanistically as possible. In many ways, Hitler and his minions are undeniably courageous, committed, and intelligent; that’s what makes this movie so spine-chilling. These are not cartoon villains stroking oiled mustaches while tying a woman to a railroad track; these are people that think and feel and act, as people do. The filmmakers do not offer the alternate viewpoint shared by the allied powers. They portray a singular ideology, virulently held by those it infects, and dissent is never so much as acknowledged as a possibility. This is what makes the film so effective. The filmmakers trust the audience to look into this historical petri dish and recognize for themselves-- better than the filmmakers could consciously portray-- the nefarious elements of the ideology.
I will admit, it’s easier to do with Nazis. Partially because it is so long past, and partially because it in such an extreme ideology, it is easier to portray without worrying that people will think you are promoting Nazi ideology. Consider, however, what the response would be like if about half of Germany were openly Nazis, and the other half held viewpoints that are normal in Germany today. I predict those Nazis would praise the movie as a glorious portrayal of the valiant fall of the Third Reich; while much of the “normal” half would decry it as a disgusting piece of Nazi propaganda-- but is the latter response not inspired primarily by the reaction of the Nazis?
Is this not similar to the situation we have in the U.S.? If American Sniper was made fifty years from now, the audience would view it as an honest portrayal of a singular viewpoint that existed in the past, warts and all. Eastwood is ahead of our time. Apparent by his work, he is a student of history, and history cannot be held to an objective standard; as a matter of fact, any historical account claiming objectivism can be immediately dismissed. History can only provide various perspectives and experiences, and can only be measured against physical evidence, and weighed against contradictory perspectives and experiences. Eastwood has greater ambitions than can be realized at the box office. His work will outlive everyone in this dispensation, and be viewed as part of a historical shift in cinema; where drama meets documentary.
Fury is similar in this regard. We are entering into a new age of war cinema, and this contemporary approach has yet to be fully appreciated by modern audiences that generally have limited expectations when it comes to war movies.
Fury does not overtly seek to strike any balance between the horror and the valor of warfare, but it accidentally does. With a modest acknowledgement of both paradigms, this film gains credibility on all sides. It does so by implying that the valor is only possible because of the horror, and the horror is only bearable with valor. I suppose it is this element of duality that made it incomprehensible to some in the audience, rendering the conclusion as nihilistic or chaotic, but I see more than that. I see an honest portrayal that shows all sides, that shows war as it happened, and allows the audience to draw their own conclusions. There is no preaching, no hyperbole. The film is a statement with an implied question. The statement is, “this happened.” The question is, “why did this happen?” and then, “was it worth it?” and then, “how can we avoid this happening ever again?” I love and appreciate that the film does not offer any answers; that’s probably why it was so frustrating to the audience and critics alike. The onus is upon the audience.
Gone are the days of Apocalypse Now, in which the message is clear and the response predictable. Full Metal Jacket has a place in history, but that strident “horrors of war” approach is extinct in American cinema. The new age of war movies will be like American Sniper, Fury, and Der Untergang; visceral, unabashed, and singular in their aim of portraying an isolated viewpoint within a time in history. In retrospect, earlier war films will seem condescending, overbearing, and simplistic by comparison. Filmmakers seem to be trending toward an approach that allows history to speak for itself, which I find immensely exciting.
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