A review by Arcanix

First up, a whinge.  The local film distributers here in Australia, in their great wisdom, saw fit to release The Hurt Locker to coincide with the 2010 Academy Awards. While this makes sense from a financial point of view, to be frank, it downright sucks for industry aficionados (like me) who have been aware of the film and its stellar reputation since its American release well over 8 months ago! I wish I could have seen it before the praise, before the hype. The thrill of watching something and knowing it’s new and special and perhaps undiscovered is a rarity down under. (Maybe I’m just not looking hard enough) Anyway the elegiac fact is that watching The Hurt Locker after it has saturated all media with news of its success results in a somewhat less intimate viewing experience.

That gripe aside this is undoubtedly a powerful film. Most great war films are just that, but The Hurt Locker has an arsenal of innovation at its disposal and is able to provide welcome new perspectives on the genre. The conflict of choice is Iraq. That is, The Occupation of Iraq or, more prosaically, the second one involving America. (A multi-national force to be more accurate) This choice of setting provides ripe opportunity for delving into the white-knuckle tension of Explosive Ordnance Disposal. (EOD) ‘War is a drug’, we are told; and the seemingly never-ending cycle of violence that plagues Baghdad provides a fitting scene for the elaboration of that thesis.  The film is episodic in structure and each episode is a minor masterpiece in the fine art of suspense.  The stakes are cranked up to 11 in the very first scene.  You never know if or when each situation will detonate into sudden fiery doom.  I loved how each scenario was allowed to play out to its natural conclusion without editing to speed things up. The tension is downright unbearable at times!

We are presented with 3 soldiers with contrasting personalities so that we may observe and reflect upon their varying reactions and coping mechanisms in the face of relentless and harrowing danger at every turn.  Jeremy Renner plays Sergeant First Class William James, the leader of the outfit. He represents the traditional gung-ho American hero. He is not afraid to put the lives of himself and his team at risk to satisfy his seemingly insatiable lust for danger and personal glory. Both sides of this persona are examined in full. As a man of action his decisions are swift and often telling. However his pursuit for justice (where none can be had) occasionally threatens to lead him and his team recklessly astray. Anthony Mackie plays Sergeant JT Sanborn. He represents the staid, ‘by the book’ approach. This leads to an inevitable collision course with James.  Finally there is Brian Geraghty as Specialist Owen Eldridge who represents the ordinary man. Suffering anguish and guilt he struggles to come to terms with his place and role in the army and the war.  All 3 actors acquit themselves admirably but special mention should go to Renner who injects an understated surety and bravado to his character. He is a character worth rooting for despite his recklessness.

It seems remarkable that a woman (Kathryn Bigelow) could direct such a gritty and masterful war film with absolutely no female characters to speak of. Those who are aware of her previous films will know that she is no peddler of mundane chick flicks. Still, special congratulations are in order for breaking free of the metaphorical shackles of gender roles in an industry that has changed little in this regard for over a century. This is a fantastic film in more ways than one and is absolutely required viewing.

A review by Arcanix

This film is about an affluent well-to-do white family adopting a destitute, stoic black teenager. I feel that the prominence of skin colour, in this particular narrative, is an unfortunate coincidence. I enjoyed the film more as a parable about the virtues of the Haves embracing the Have-Nots (notwithstanding my wariness of socialistic tendencies) than as a meditation on race relations. The black/white tale of redemption often comes saddled with the baggage of cheap saccharine sentimentality. Truth being stranger than fiction, the film is based on a true story.

Racial technicalities aside, I think the film is successful in that it is genuinely tender and moving while providing some well timed laughs along the way. A lot of the narrative is telegraphed so we’re left to absorb the performances on display. Sandra Bullock is the obvious candidate for scrutiny following her many award wins for the role. She is certainly excellent as the strong willed and compassionate Leigh Anne. Capable of divulging acute emotions with a quick glance Bullock dominates the film. Less successful but brilliantly cast is Quinton Aaron as the outcast, Big Mike. His default facial expression, ‘sad and defeated’, immediately garners sympathy, crucial to drawing the viewer into the story. However in scenes where he is required to do anything other than silently mope about, he struggles, temporarily breaking the illusion. The husband is woefully one dimensional and bafflingly accommodates every fancy of Bullock’s character with little to no objection. The precocious son, ‘SJ’, steals several scenes and provides most of the film’s laughs to good effect.

I was somewhat disappointed that certain pressing issues were avoided or under-developed. I feel the level of trust placed in Big Mike is often not justified enough and this problem is brought into focus when Big Mike screws up with little disapproval shown by his new parents. The other reservation I have is summed up by the football coach who says: (paraphrased) “Other inner city kids have a lot of rage which immediately comes out on the pitch”. The film would have the viewer believe that more kids should be ‘adopted’ in the fashion. I highly doubt that there are many stray urchins with the placid, morally virtuous tendencies of Big Mike. In a sense the story is a little too perfect and devoid of any sort of real redemption. Despite its real life roots I enjoyed the film as a Hollywood fairytale with a big heart and a few brains on the side.

A review by Arcanix

I was 13 when the Springboks defied form and reason to sensationally win the Rugby World Cup in 1995.  As a South African with affection and reverence for his homeland, as well as an unashamed partisan supporter of the hallowed Green and Gold, it is treacherous and somewhat awkward to assess the merits of Clint Eastwood’s attempt at adapting this modern day fairytale to the screen.  It is impossible to share my thoughts without the spectre of subjectivity, for better or worse.  Foremost I am gladdened.  This film has been developed with the substantial talents of such celebrated film-makers as Eastwood, Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon.  It is a sign that Hollywood is beginning to take seriously the wealth of affecting stories and characters that embody the rich and often tragic history of the venerable Republic, and, indeed, Africa entire.

There are problems with the film.  It has the scaffolding of an off-the-shelf underdog feel-good sports flick though little time is spent developing the individual members of the protagonist Springboks.  Sole black player, Chester Williams, is the only character afforded rudimentary fleshing out.  This detracts from the tension of the titanic and viscerally filmed rugby matches.  The footage and editing is impressive enough but ultimately we are subjected to faceless, mountainous men smashing, pushing and pummelling each other.  Still, we root for the Springboks because it is every much Nelson Mandela’s victory as Francois Pienaar’s or South African rugby.  This is, firstly, a movie about Mandela.

Surely there is no-one on this earth better suited to play the great man than Freeman.  His screen presence is one that immediately demands veneration.  He injects a subtle wisdom and unmistakable charm befitting a seasoned statesman and stalwart patriot.  Opposite the excellent Freeman is Damon who successfully portrays the indomitable Pienaar, an Afrikaner on an unwitting collision course with more than just sporting destiny.  I also appreciated the story arc of Mandela’s security team.  (I did not enjoy the contrived tension involving a certain aircraft at the beginning of the climatic final)  As a South African I could gripe about the shaky accents but I choose not to.  The Afrikaner and Xhosa phonetic enunciation is quite difficult for most westerners to come to terms with and the effort should be acknowledged in my opinion.

The people of South Africa, both black and white, may owe their very lives to the foresight of President Nelson Mandela.  This film succeeds as a microcosm of an amazing act of diplomacy and humanity.  Thanks to Mandela, South Africa has the best chance yet of realizing the dream of a ‘successful’ democratic African state.  I hope this is the first of several high quality films investigating the fascinating life and times of Madiba.