After reading Chris Kyle’s autobiographical account, my next step in attempting to discern an honest assessment of the film, American Sniper, was to see it again. So I shelled out another eight bucks over the weekend and watched even more closely this time. I looked for images, language, and characterization that could offer an alternative reading from what I experienced the first time. (Once again, my initial review is in the Movie Reviews tab above.)
The not-so-fair-minded folks at Salon called American Sniper a “revisionist propaganda piece of myth-making and nationalistic war porn.” But at least they took time to watch the film, unlike author Max Blumenthal, who tweeted, “I haven’t seen American Sniper, but...” before mocking U.S. soldiers. Or Dennis Jett in The New Republic, who wrote, “I have not seen American Sniper. But if the trailer is any indication...” before denouncing the film. Matt Taibbi, from Rolling Stone, did see the film, but titled his review “American Sniper Is Almost Too Dumb to Criticize.” Taibbi’s first line reads, “I saw American Sniper last night, and hated it slightly less than I expected to.” No real critic would ever start a commentary in a way that blatantly reveals such preconceived bias. This is the voice of an unrepentant ideologue and a perspective that will never be changed. And all of these voices, regarding film analysis, should be ignored for their complete lack of serious thought. Taibbi’s article is even more strange (and unnecessary) because the actual film critic of Rolling Stone, Peter Travers, gave American Sniper 3 ½ stars out of 4. Therefore, it’s clear that Taibbi only wrote his article, not as serious film analysis, but to vent his own personal gripes. These are just a few examples of what pass for intelligent cultural debate these days.
Here’s what I came up with after a second viewing: American Sniper might be one of the strongest arguments against war that I’ve ever seen.
Try this thought experiment. Pretend that the end of American Sniper is the final title card telling the audience that Kyle was shot trying to help the depressed veteran. The funeral procession no longer exists in the film. Title card, black screen, credits, over. What reading could the film now provide?
I think there is a very legitimate argument to be made that the film offers a devastatingly effective anti-war message. A man gets sent to Iraq under the belief that he is doing right. He is very competent as he serves his mission and comrades well. However, he faces traumatic mental, emotional, and even physical consequences for what he has done, thus jeopardizing his relationship with his family and his connection to normal society. After repeating this cycle of fighting and adapting, fighting and adapting, he finally heals and is able to resume his life. Right when he is becoming fully integrated, he is shot by someone just like him in a place that is supposed to represent peace and freedom. His life of violence has followed him home and destroyed everything he had lived for. The end. The audience is left wondering, “What was all that fighting for?” “Is war really worth it?” “Is war ever truly over, and is there ever a real winner?” “Why would we allow anyone to go through that?” “Shouldn’t we be doing everything possible to avoid dragging men and their families into a situation that will inevitably only lead to pain?”
Pretty powerful, don’t you think? All of that is in American Sniper, and it’s pretty easy to see for those willing to look. I will admit that the final funeral footage cannot help but imply a sympathy for Kyle and a presentation of martyrdom that almost unavoidably leads to a pro-military (and thus, in this case, pro-war) ideological stance. But even amid those closing moments, American Sniper is quite believably anti-violence.
After all, we must remember that in the film, Kyle is presented multiple voices that express concerns about the war. His wife, his brother, and his team leader (who ends up dying) all wonder aloud if Kyle’s devout commitment to the cause in Iraq is truly necessary. His troop mate’s funeral letter uses the phrase “unjustified crusade” in suggesting America’s misplaced mission. Nearly every time Kyle tells someone of his devotion to his country, countering their doubts, the camera seems to linger on his face at the end of each conversation slightly longer than is necessary. This seems to let us consider if Kyle actually believes what he is saying, is just parroting the voices of others, or is simply trying to convince himself that his own perilous behavior is warranted.
Also in the film, Kyle’s partner on the dramatic rooftop scene, just prior to the sandstorm, sees him take out the enemy sniper from over 2,000 yards. Knowing this is an important kill for protecting American soldiers, Kyle’s partner wryly says, “mission accomplished,” right before his team gets swarmed with insurgents and faces interminable fire. This statement is surely a thinly-veiled reference to the notorious President Bush speech, which eventually demonstrated that we were a long way from “accomplishing” anything. However, Kyle takes this important shot in complete defiance of his team leader, who doesn’t want Kyle’s fire to give away their position. They are to wait for support, not take matters into their own hands. Kyle puts his entire platoon in danger because he wants to shoot Mustafa. Though he miraculously gets the kill, he is cursed by his comrades as he jeopardizes his team, and several of his brothers perish because of his greed. The film shows us that fighting brings out irrationality, as any semblance of a coherent mission is tossed aside for personal vendettas.
Clearly, Kyle’s struggles to integrate back into his normal life offer the greatest argument for a message of non-violence. His inability to avoid flinching at the slightest noises, his quick temper toward misperceived threats, his struggle to even have a revealing conversation with his spouse all show the deleterious effects of battle on the human mind and spirit. Taya believes her husband has turned into a robot, and the man she once knew has been lost forever. Even when he is eventually able to be playful with her, it is with a gun in his hand. This is what becomes of military men, the film shows. Even their peace becomes imbued with violence.
When Kyle is ultimately killed by a fellow member of the U.S. military, we are left with a powerful and cynical message. Forget about terrorism—we can’t even keep ourselves safe...from ourselves. What makes us think we can keep the rest of the world safe? We may think we are servicing the elimination (or at least the reduction) of evil. But evil exists everywhere, even in our own backyard. And sometimes we are even the cause (or at least the perpetuation) of it. Though our intentions may seem noble, the film may be saying, violence only begets more violence. And tragedy is inevitable.
Such details in the film, contrary to many leftist opinions, actually portray the U.S. in a critical light. American soldiers often seem reckless. Kyle in particular appears vengeful and obsessed. This is what war does to men, Eastwood could be offering. And what does it say about us if we are glorifying them?
I still stick with my original feelings about the film, but I can certainly see a different side. A willingness to accept the possibility of alternate and legitimate viewings/readings is what any good film/literary critic should embrace. While we all certainly settle on an explanation that we believe is most accurate or best explains a film’s effectiveness, there is always the potential to be proven otherwise. And that is totally okay. But that is what rabid ideologues, existing all across the political spectrum (and unfortunately posing as film sages), don’t seem to understand.
To be continued in a third and final installment tomorrow.
The not-so-fair-minded folks at Salon called American Sniper a “revisionist propaganda piece of myth-making and nationalistic war porn.” But at least they took time to watch the film, unlike author Max Blumenthal, who tweeted, “I haven’t seen American Sniper, but...” before mocking U.S. soldiers. Or Dennis Jett in The New Republic, who wrote, “I have not seen American Sniper. But if the trailer is any indication...” before denouncing the film. Matt Taibbi, from Rolling Stone, did see the film, but titled his review “American Sniper Is Almost Too Dumb to Criticize.” Taibbi’s first line reads, “I saw American Sniper last night, and hated it slightly less than I expected to.” No real critic would ever start a commentary in a way that blatantly reveals such preconceived bias. This is the voice of an unrepentant ideologue and a perspective that will never be changed. And all of these voices, regarding film analysis, should be ignored for their complete lack of serious thought. Taibbi’s article is even more strange (and unnecessary) because the actual film critic of Rolling Stone, Peter Travers, gave American Sniper 3 ½ stars out of 4. Therefore, it’s clear that Taibbi only wrote his article, not as serious film analysis, but to vent his own personal gripes. These are just a few examples of what pass for intelligent cultural debate these days.
Here’s what I came up with after a second viewing: American Sniper might be one of the strongest arguments against war that I’ve ever seen.
Try this thought experiment. Pretend that the end of American Sniper is the final title card telling the audience that Kyle was shot trying to help the depressed veteran. The funeral procession no longer exists in the film. Title card, black screen, credits, over. What reading could the film now provide?
I think there is a very legitimate argument to be made that the film offers a devastatingly effective anti-war message. A man gets sent to Iraq under the belief that he is doing right. He is very competent as he serves his mission and comrades well. However, he faces traumatic mental, emotional, and even physical consequences for what he has done, thus jeopardizing his relationship with his family and his connection to normal society. After repeating this cycle of fighting and adapting, fighting and adapting, he finally heals and is able to resume his life. Right when he is becoming fully integrated, he is shot by someone just like him in a place that is supposed to represent peace and freedom. His life of violence has followed him home and destroyed everything he had lived for. The end. The audience is left wondering, “What was all that fighting for?” “Is war really worth it?” “Is war ever truly over, and is there ever a real winner?” “Why would we allow anyone to go through that?” “Shouldn’t we be doing everything possible to avoid dragging men and their families into a situation that will inevitably only lead to pain?”
Pretty powerful, don’t you think? All of that is in American Sniper, and it’s pretty easy to see for those willing to look. I will admit that the final funeral footage cannot help but imply a sympathy for Kyle and a presentation of martyrdom that almost unavoidably leads to a pro-military (and thus, in this case, pro-war) ideological stance. But even amid those closing moments, American Sniper is quite believably anti-violence.
After all, we must remember that in the film, Kyle is presented multiple voices that express concerns about the war. His wife, his brother, and his team leader (who ends up dying) all wonder aloud if Kyle’s devout commitment to the cause in Iraq is truly necessary. His troop mate’s funeral letter uses the phrase “unjustified crusade” in suggesting America’s misplaced mission. Nearly every time Kyle tells someone of his devotion to his country, countering their doubts, the camera seems to linger on his face at the end of each conversation slightly longer than is necessary. This seems to let us consider if Kyle actually believes what he is saying, is just parroting the voices of others, or is simply trying to convince himself that his own perilous behavior is warranted.
Also in the film, Kyle’s partner on the dramatic rooftop scene, just prior to the sandstorm, sees him take out the enemy sniper from over 2,000 yards. Knowing this is an important kill for protecting American soldiers, Kyle’s partner wryly says, “mission accomplished,” right before his team gets swarmed with insurgents and faces interminable fire. This statement is surely a thinly-veiled reference to the notorious President Bush speech, which eventually demonstrated that we were a long way from “accomplishing” anything. However, Kyle takes this important shot in complete defiance of his team leader, who doesn’t want Kyle’s fire to give away their position. They are to wait for support, not take matters into their own hands. Kyle puts his entire platoon in danger because he wants to shoot Mustafa. Though he miraculously gets the kill, he is cursed by his comrades as he jeopardizes his team, and several of his brothers perish because of his greed. The film shows us that fighting brings out irrationality, as any semblance of a coherent mission is tossed aside for personal vendettas.
Clearly, Kyle’s struggles to integrate back into his normal life offer the greatest argument for a message of non-violence. His inability to avoid flinching at the slightest noises, his quick temper toward misperceived threats, his struggle to even have a revealing conversation with his spouse all show the deleterious effects of battle on the human mind and spirit. Taya believes her husband has turned into a robot, and the man she once knew has been lost forever. Even when he is eventually able to be playful with her, it is with a gun in his hand. This is what becomes of military men, the film shows. Even their peace becomes imbued with violence.
When Kyle is ultimately killed by a fellow member of the U.S. military, we are left with a powerful and cynical message. Forget about terrorism—we can’t even keep ourselves safe...from ourselves. What makes us think we can keep the rest of the world safe? We may think we are servicing the elimination (or at least the reduction) of evil. But evil exists everywhere, even in our own backyard. And sometimes we are even the cause (or at least the perpetuation) of it. Though our intentions may seem noble, the film may be saying, violence only begets more violence. And tragedy is inevitable.
Such details in the film, contrary to many leftist opinions, actually portray the U.S. in a critical light. American soldiers often seem reckless. Kyle in particular appears vengeful and obsessed. This is what war does to men, Eastwood could be offering. And what does it say about us if we are glorifying them?
I still stick with my original feelings about the film, but I can certainly see a different side. A willingness to accept the possibility of alternate and legitimate viewings/readings is what any good film/literary critic should embrace. While we all certainly settle on an explanation that we believe is most accurate or best explains a film’s effectiveness, there is always the potential to be proven otherwise. And that is totally okay. But that is what rabid ideologues, existing all across the political spectrum (and unfortunately posing as film sages), don’t seem to understand.
To be continued in a third and final installment tomorrow.