Retro Reel by Sreepathy, Volume 7

Retro Reel is a column about movies, but not about the latest box-office releases. There will be aspects of review, but the column is intended more as a recommendation of good movies of different genres, with the sense of a retrospective – hence, the ‘Retro’ in the name. In a day and age when movies are projected digitally, the word “reel” may seem retrograde and outdated. Yet, no other word captures the imagery of a movie as “Reel”…Sreepathy is an unabashed movie buff who loves a well-told onscreen story. He has a list of about 450 must-watch movies, and Retro Reel is an attempt to share with friends of a similar bent of mind, some of the best movie-watching experiences he has had. He lives in Naperville with his wife and two sons.

Courage Under Fire

Q: What’s common to software and Truth?

A: Both come in versions.

Before you read further, here’s a disclaimer that this edition’s recommendation, “Courage Under Fire” (1996, rated ‘R’), is not an entrée for a fun-Friday-evening family fest. It’s a powerful but serious movie – one that causes you anguish, yet one that touches your core deeply and leaves you ultimately inspired. This is one of those movies that is not content with just entertaining you for the nonce; it lingers with you well after the last credits have rolled on. Its pivot is tragic, but it triumphs over its terrible circumstances, taking your hand and walking you on the path of its ideals.

Let’s get back to the Q&A we started with – there’s more to it. Much like every version of software, every version of Truth comes with its own new features – and its own new bugs. Software is a process of development. Truth is a process of search. Just as you would beware of the programmer who claims he has written the perfect software code, beware of the prophet who proclaims he has found the Truth and is ready to offer it to you.

Whoa! How did philosophy and spirituality enter the humble realm of a retro movie column?!? Let me take you to the other side of the world, to Japan, the Land of the Rising Sun and of the much acclaimed master filmmaker Akira Kurosawa. More than six decades ago, he made a movie called Rashomon, which asks the quintessential question, “Is Truth knowable?” The movie explores that question through the mind of a judge trying to get at the truth of a crime, based on the widely contrasting testimonies of different witnesses to a murder. Of course, the serious movie-maker that Kurosawa was, his Rashomon is set in the stark, uncompromising rural landscape of 12th century Japan. His narrative is amorphous, surreal, dense, chaotic, confusing, and frustrating – but then, who said that truth-seeking was a walk in the park? Due to the narrative’s point-of-view nature, Rashomon makes for a very esoteric, but ultimately difficult, movie-watching experience. Moreover, Kurosawa doesn’t provide you with a neatly packaged resolution to the question he raises, and leaves the story’s ending open to interpretation, suggesting that in the ultimate analysis finding the truth is an intensely personal quest…

Edward Zwick

Nearly fifty years later, Edward Zwick, directing “Courage Under Fire”, pays tribute to the master’s Rashomon technique but tells a much more interesting story by setting it bang in the middle of a 1990s war. Unlike Kurosawa, Zwick’s narrative is straightforward and doesn’t demand any cerebral calisthenics of you. Also unlike Rashomon, there is a clear resolution at the end, though it comes only through the sheer determination of one man ready to dig down deep and confront the truth. However, even with its commercial format and its eventual clarity, the movie leaves you grappling with the essentially nebulous nature of truth.

It’s Operation Desert Storm. Colonel Nat Serling, a sincere, upright army officer is asked to submit a second-level investigative report to validate the decision of awarding a Medal of Honor to Captain Karen Walden for her bravery in leading the rescue of the crew of a downed Black Hawk, during which she made the ultimate sacrifice. Serling begins earnestly by gathering the facts surrounding the incident. By all accounts, it seems Walden was an upstanding soldier, richly deserving of the posthumous medal – until Serling begins to discover discrepancies in the varying versions of the rescue effort from the surviving members of the rescued team, and her own team. His search for the truth is complicated by the fact that he is haunted by demons from his own past (haven’t we all been in that boat?).

…You see, in the same Gulf War, thanks to the havoc wrought by the horrors of an intense battle situation, Serling had given a dreadfully mistaken order, which resulted in the death of men under his own command, including that of Boylar, his best friend. Tortured by the enormous burden of this guilt, he is desperate to meet Boylar’s parents and beg their forgiveness for his error. To protect its own image, the Army refrains him from doing so, and tries to hush up the ‘friendly-fire’ incident. Unable to bring closure to his troubled conscience, Serling alienates himself from his own family, hits the bottle, and begins to rebel against the Army’s establishment…

In addition to all that, Serling faces enormous pressure from different vested interests – his commanding officer, the press, and the White House – to compromise with the truth. Each of them pushes him to manufacture a suitable version of Capt Walden’s rescue effort that will quietly justify the award of the Medal to her. Serling refuses to budge from the straight and narrow path, only to have his commanding officer strip him of the responsibility for the investigation. When things come to a boil, Serling, determined to redeem his integrity, decides to get to the bottom of the incident all by himself, and submits a report that documents the entire, cold, hard truth without playing fast and loose with it…

Meg Ryan, one of America’s sweetheart actresses, is a surprise choice to play Capt Walden, but despite her intrinsically peachy persona, pulls off the role of a tough-sounding combat officer authentically, and with great style. Matt Damon and Lou Diamond Phillips, playing two of the team-members, do a superb job of etching the unspeakable horrors of war that dwindle decent men and reduce them to flawed ones. But at the end of the day, this movie is Denzel Washington’s canvas, and he paints it with one of his best performances playing Col Serling. Denzel is a rare actor who oozes integrity from every pore of his being. His ability to dissolve himself into the character, as also to relate with his audience is so intense that your conscience weeps when his is troubled, and your self-esteem soars when his is redeemed at the end.

The ending was criticized by some as being overly emotional, but in my opinion that criticism is clearly misplaced. The story ends in an uplifting catharsis for the central character, and you cannot achieve true catharsis without strong emotions coming into play.

…The truth sets you free, but the search for it may wear out the soles of your feet.