After Barack Obama's recent speech on race in America, Jon Stewart playfully reprimanded the presidential hopeful with his typically on-target sarcasm, saying Mr. Obama "had the nerve to speak to Americans about race as though they were adults". The same might be said for the recent crop of all-but-ignored Iraq war movies to grace empty multiplexes lately. While the quality may have varied from melodrama ("
Rendition", "A Mighty Heart") to bombast ("The Kingdom") to quiet mastery ("
In the Valley of Elah"), Americans weren't interested. You can't blame this Bush-weary nation for being all warred out, and it's possible these films will find an audience years down the road. But the problem could also be that, across the board, these films tried to tackle the war on very heavy, dramatic terms. "Stop-Loss" on the other hand, Kimberly Peirce's eagerly anticipated follow-up to 1999's "
Boys Don't Cry", tells its story in broad, obvious brushstrokes. It's a well-meaning attempt to call attention to the government's practice of sending troops back to war after their legal discharge date. It's not likely to generate any revolutions, but it's good that the story was told all the same.
After a brutal opening sequence which finds a squad of American border guards ambushed in a Tikrit alley, a group of soldiers return home to Brazos, Texas, as heroes. They receive a hero's welcome and, as is so often the sad case, a hero's aimlessness. Unable to escape the horrors of the past, or the comfort of the bottle, the men haunt the streets of their hometown in a perpetual stupor. One day, their squad leader, Brandon King (Ryan Phillippe) finds that he is scheduled to be sent back to Iraq despite completing his tour of duty. He's been stop-lossed. Brandon immediately goes AWOL and heads to Washington D.C., with the best friend's fiancé in tow, to personally complain to his senator. Happily, the script, co-written by Ms. Peirce and Mark Richard, doesn't go in the direction you might think from here.
It's no wonder "Stop" is presented by MTV Films. It's shot with a gritty, hand-held style and peopled with All-American down-home Texas folk who are given only the slightest hint of characterization. Thankfully, Ms. Peirce coaxes some interesting, if not entirely compelling, performances from her actors. Joseph Gordon-Levitt ("The Lookout") turns in yet another fine, if all to brief, performance as the deeply-troubled Tommy Burgess. Channing Tatum proves himself to be slightly more than your average Abercrombie & Fitch model-turned-actor. And Australian actress Abbie Cornish retains the spunkiness from her memorable turn in "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" while still adopting a convincing southern drawl. But the movie is held together by Ryan Phillippe, and he just about pulls it off with a performance which may one day be called "Phillippeian". The actor - a trouper in ensembles pieces ("Crash", "Godford Park") as well as smaller fare ("Breach", "Cruel Intentions") - smolders well. But his boiling point is too low to generate any real depth for this underwritten character. The same might be said of the film.
The practice of stop-lossing is all too real and it's worthy of attention. But the ambivalence with which you may greet the film's denouement is indicative of the problem with "Loss". By underestimating its audience, it short-changes its subject matter. Still, at least this film has a shot at
having an audience to underestimate. "Elah" didn't even get that.
