Review: The Hurt Locker

The Hurt Locker is a tough one to classify. It's a film about American combat efforts in Iraq, directed by top notch action director Kathryn Bigelow (Point Break, K19: The Widowmaker, Strange Days) that has very little in common with war films as we know them. There's far too little glassy-eyed introspection or attention to military procedure to be considered among the Serious War Film canon. Nor is there enough camaraderie to be a buddy movie. And while accounts of the film being totally apolitical are a bit of a stretch, the story has far too much humanity to reasonably be considered a protest film. Written by Mark Boal, an embedded journalist during the early days of the Iraq war, Hurt Locker is a marked improvement over his last effort In the Valley of Elah (not to mention, a case study in what a good director's contribution is to a story when viewed side by side with the limp, sour work of Paul Haggis), depicting a workplace with very high stakes that is the most populist Iraq film to date.

Set a couple years into Operation Iraqi Freedom, it's immediately made clear that no one up or down the chain of command is expecting victory or any kind of resolution to the conflict at hand. Some of the soldiers arrive with varying degrees ideology and enthusiasm but optimism is no longer on the table and everyone there is watching the clock (no pun intended).

Sergeant Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Staff Sergeant James (Jeremy Renner) are matched up to lead an elite bomb squad after Sanborn's partner dies in an IED explosion. Sanborn is a career-track officer who plays things by the book and James is a hotdogger who's personally defused over 800 bombs in his short tenure with the Army. In a different film their odd couple pairing would be played for more laughs or life lessons but Sanborn, devastated by the loss of his buddy and riddled with survivor's guilt retreats emotionally. For the duration of the film he only engages with others to relay orders and count down the days until he can go home. The perspective then shifts to James, an adrenaline junkie who when not being afforded the opportunity to defuse hastily scrapped together explosives (shucking off his protective spacesuit in some instances) listens to heavy metal, chain smokes and drinks whiskey. It's understood these are not two people who will be meeting up in twenty years to reflect upon their times together with cautious nostalgia, not only because they barely get along, but because they are barely experiencing their surroundings on a conscious level.

The editing choices in Hurt Locker are extremely fascinating. Most of the cuts are done in the middle of beats, where traditionally there would be more action, exposition or a moment for the characters (and audience) to reflect upon what's happening. In one scene, Sanborn and James chase two thugs who have snatched an injured soldier through an alley. They recover their comrade and in the celebratory moment that would normally be there to give an audience room to exhale the film cuts to James -- alone in the washroom trying desperately to defer processing the danger he just evaded. And even that moment provides neither the character nor the viewer a moment of respite, with the next (purposely) awkward cut going to the next day, back at work. This cutting style, along with Bigelow's choice to provide no context for the process, tools or acronyms the bomb squad uses, creates a constant sense of being off-kilter, overly-energized and depleted of rest.

The Hurt Locker could easily match any summer blockbuster with ten times the budget in terms of the number and velocity of on-screen explosions and moments of extreme tension. But by keeping the focus fairly trim the film always maintains the feel a far more intimate, affecting story.

Comments

[jonathan]

The film must be so real and thrilling. I hope to see it released in my country.