Jarhead (2005)

I did not read Anthony Swofford's Desert Storm memoir Jarhead on which this film of the same name is based, so I went to Jarhead movie that text serving as an ancilliary resource. That's important to note about my review, because if you were one who did read the memoir you probably have insights into "Swoff" unavailable to me then, and now. But, know this, I did read about the movie and had some passing knowledge of what it was based upon. That being said when I sat down to watch this picture I anticipated seeing something of a "war movie" but much less a genre-specific piece than a semi-biopic about a marine who served time in the Gulf War. Jarhead the movie ended up being pretty much what I expected, succeeding on some levels (cinematography, realism, performances) while falling short on others (subject, plot).

I got what I expected viewing Jarhead and methinks most viewers will too. While the movie lacks the constant action of your run-of-the-mill, generic, genre-specific "war movie," the emotional involvement one has with Swoff's platoon bridges the gap between the lack of action and compelling characterization. Mendes and company renders their setting realistically. Hell, at times, after Swoff's platoon had been deployed to Kuwait I felt the gritty presence of dusty sand on the tip of my tongue.

There is a very poignant scene at the end of Sam Mendes' film.   In this scene a bus-load of Marines, including Swoff and his comrades, are shown returning home from Desert Storm. The marines are being celebrated via your standard parade down Main Street, USA. As their bus rolls slowly down that street an older, disheveled, weather-beaten veteran, wearing what seems to be his original, U.S. Marines-issued khaki jacket, suddenly boards the moving bus. Stammering but coherent he imparts his congratulations to the returning marines, repeating the motto of the US Marine Corps, "Semper Fi" ("always faithful"), repeatedly. After shaking hands with a few of the Marines seated in the forefront of the bus he asks if he can take a seat and ride along with them. Though no one answers him directly he takes a seat behind the bus driver.

Throughout this scene Mendes carefully monitors the reaction of Swoff (Jake Gyllenhaal), the 20-yr-old "jarhead" whose story we've followed since his enlistment into the Corps. His immediate reaction is one of surprise. No doubt, like the other marines on the bus, initially he isn't quite sure as to who this man is or what his intentions are. But, once the veteran makes it clear that he wants only to congratulate the returning marines on their good work, Swoff's initial alarmed demeanor settles into a shifting feeling of horrified embarrassment.

Embarrassment because during his short three-month stint serving as a sharp-shooter he never shot his rifle. Horrorified because despite this sharp-shooting inactivity, and lack of authentic combat duty, he still managed a nervous breakdown and a hearty dose of post-war syndrome. With but a few glances at the troubled veteran Swoff innately understands that, for all intents and purposes, he hasn't been through much at all. Certainly nothing compared to what the veteran has survived. Yet, Swoff's brief war experience has nevertheless permanently dented his psyche.

How one reacts to that scene will tell you much about whether or not they liked this film, which is, ostensibly, the story, not a war story, about a 20-year-old Marine and his experience with the US Military during Desert Storm. Those who liked the film will probably have some degree of empathy for the veteran and Swoff. Those who did not like the film will probably believe that both got what they deserve when they embarked in their respective military endeavors. I believe this to be true because Jarhead is not a war movie, nor a political film, nor a polemical film, nor an ensemble film that follows a few characters in great depth. As simple as the title infers, it is the story of one person: Swoff. You'll either empathize with him or you won't. Take him or leave him (Just as simple as that, in the story, his girlfriend back in the States drops him like a three foot putt).

The one plotting structure in the film that bothered me was the shoe-horned narration that bookended the movie. In both instances Swoff's narration is from the point-of-view of himself reconstructing his service time in a manner that reflects a subservience to the construction of the plot itself. That is, his words are too carefully scripted, not to mention loaded with pathos, and they took me out of the story to consider if such a fine-tuned reminiscence was apropos to the young man I was viewing on the screen. The answer: not! Swoff's narration was that of an intellectual pondering past events. Nothing else in Swoff's story ever made me think of him as one whose Sunday would include doing the NY Times crossword puzzle... in pen. My point is valid as Swoff is but 20-something, maybe less, when he enters the Marines. As his brief tenure in the Corps goes very much according to stereotype (rigorous training, confrontation with in-your-face-sergeant, excitation of deployment followed by testosterone-fueled intra-squad hijinx, contemplations on masturbation, worry about girlfriend at home)  Jarhead never presents Swoff as anything but that...an empty head.

As such, concurrent with that plotting failure,  Jarhead fails on the subject level because it tells the oft-told tale of a "coming-of-age" for its central character, Swoff, who, in my opinion, is/was your Average Joe. Honestly, I would have preferred to hear the story about any one of his other Marine buddies, each of whom seemed to have far more interesting pasts and presents, providing fodder for development.

Mendes' greatest successes come towards the latter part of the film via his depiction of the Marines advancing across the desert towards a handful of oil-spewing, blazing refineries. The cinematography is spectacular. Touching too is the arrival of an oil-slicked, short-of-breath, soon-to-die horse that Swoff gently strokes before the horse staggers off into the desert.

Mendes also depicts the bombed ruins of a seemingly endless procession of civilian-packed vehicles that were singed via a merciless napalm strike. The ghastly remains of that violent act causes Swoff to grow violent ill.  Watcher beware, you may well do the same.

Final

I found Swoff's story, and Mendes' depiction of it, fairly compelling.

After all, this is the coming-of-young-age story of an enlisted man in a stereotypical, close-knit military society encouraging every testosterone-fueled emotion, dream, insight, action, and reaction imaginable. We've seen this tale told in countless "war movies," from Full Metal Jacket to Meatballs. Mendes should have spared us the derivative training sequences and focused more on ancillary exposition giving us more insight in Swoff: what makes him tick, his family, etc.

Instead we are left to take Swoff, as is, in the present time. With not much to go on I found it hard to empathize with him. War is hell. He should have known that training for it and waiting for it would be hell in "the suck" as well.

One last word: this would not be a "drop-off" movie for kids. I would encourage parents or older siblings to accompany children 14 and under, if only to make them realize that war, indeed, is hell.