FILM REVIEW: Oscar Contender – “The Messenger”

We, the people of the United States of America, are currently involved in two wars. Not one, but two. Of course, when I say “we”, I do so in much the same manner a football fan comes home from a game saying “We won”, or “We lost”, as if by rooting for that team, they somehow share a connection, or affiliation, with those on the field.

We Americans do feel at least some connection to those on the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. Some of you reading this may have family or friends serving in either war. Perhaps a few of you have even had the knock on your door that will change your life forever, notifying you of the death of a soldier in action. There are few things in this life harder to do than answer the door, seeing two uniformed officers waiting outside.

Maybe if you don’t open it, your son or daughter or husband or wife won’t die. Maybe if you crawl back into bed, you can start the day over and perhaps do something diffrent that will change this moment, perhaps prevent it from happening. If only you’d gone to the store a half hour ago like you planned, then you wouldn’t be here right now and you could live an extra hour or so in happy oblivion, completely unaware that someone you love and miss with all your heart is no longer with us.

In the Oscar-nominated film The Messenger, Staff Sgt.Will Montogomery (Ben Foster) and Captain Tony Stone (Woody Harrelson) are two soldiers whose duty it is knock on doors of houses to which they were not invited and where their presence is never greeted warmly. Without having to say a word, they will ruin someone’s day in the worst possible way, yet theirs is a job that must be done.

After a few incidents where the recipients of the bad news were less than hospitable, the two soldiers pay a visit to a woman (played superbly by Samantha Morton) whose husband has been killed. Upon informing her of this, she is almost apologetic in her eager to break the tension of the moment. Bewildered by her, Montgomery parks outside her house later that night, watching her through the window as she and her son interact. A day or so later, their paths cross again at the mall and he gives her a ride home.

It is around this time that the two officers begin delving into the little corners of the other’s personal life in hopes of finding out what makes them tick. They each see enough of themselves in the other to be frightened at how much they’re really alike.

All of this; the male bonding, the comforting of a widow, is secondary to the harsh, grim reality that American soldiers die on the battlefield every day. This isn’t World War II, either, where you can tell who the enemy is by their uniforms. In Iraq or Afghanistan, anyone could be the enemy. Rather than simply shoot first and ask questions later, American soldiers abide by rules determined by politicians. This isn’t war, this is suicide.

Yet there is nary a mention of these deaths Stateside. The country as a whole is intent on merely going about their business rather than face the fact that some young kid had his body blown to bits for no good reason. No good reason at all.

Our peace isn’t at jeopardy. We aren’t revolting against anyone, or fighting for a freedom that lies just out of reach. Hell, neither Iraq or Afghanistan did anything to America. The moment the U.S. chose to go to war, they essentially signed the death certificates for thousands of soldiers whose bad luck was thinking a stint with the National Guard was going to be a walk in the park. Instead, they found themselves in some parched piece of earth where anyone could have a bomb strapped to their chest and a desire to honor a God who rewards acts of cowardice.

Sadly, it takes a movie like The Messenger to remind us that war is real, death is very real, and that we as a country have deluded ourselves into thinking that if we just go about our business as if nothing is wrong, there will be no knock on the door.
__________________
By Darren Robbins