“I love this job. I thank God for every day he gives me in the Corps. Hoorah,” says an oil-soaked Jamie Foxx in Sam Mendes’ new epic war film “Jarhead.” To see this scene in all of its unfettered glory on the big screen will move one from their preconceived notions of American war films.
“Jarhead” is director Sam Mendes’ third feature film. Mendes’ two previous films have both had an uncanny ability to not only present a movie with a well-connected and broad storyline but introduced characters of considerable depth and human elements that allowed the audience to understand and relate with them. This movie follows suit masterfully. Based on the 2003 book of the same name, “Jarhead” is the account of Anthony Swofford’s involvement in the first Gulf War. The role of Swoff, as he has been nicknamed by his Marine buddies, is wonderfully executed by the immensely talented Jake Gyllenhall. Swoff is a third-generation enlistee who gets sidetracked on his way to college with misguided visions of honor, reinforced relentlessly by his Vietnam-veteran father. Upon entry into Marine bootcamp at Camp Pendleton he is handpicked for selective sniper training by Staff Sgt. Sykes (Jamie Foxx). Through Swoff we are introduced to a half-dozen other soldiers with pasts and hopes different from those of Swoff’s. There’s the corn-fed Kansan, Fergus, adorned with Marine-issued Buddy Holly specs, Kruger the skeptical Texan played by Lucas Black (“Slingblade,” “Friday Night Lights”) and the most disturbing supporting character in the movie, Fowler (Evan Jones) whose dark obsessions make him look hauntingly look like pre-serial killer stereotypes.
Yet the most appealing and seemingly rational character in the movie is Troy, played mercilessly by Peter Sarsgaard (“Garden State,” “Shattered Glass”). Troy is unflappable, calm and unwielding in his role as team leader. But there are ominous clues along the way that hint at the mercurial, violent interior Troy hopes to shield from his colleagues.
All of the Marines except Swoff have a little boys’ view of war. With visions of killing in the name of the good ol’ U.S. of A. dancing through their heads they set off to fight in a harsh, unforgiving desert of endless heat and horizon and uncertainy over every bluff. Once the Marines are placed in the desert and the bombs ring near and loud in the soft distance, their valiant views of service begin to dissolve into pure, confused fear. To mask these emotions they create a testosterone-fueled existence, constantly one-upping each other with sex jokes and sometimes non sequitur tastelessness. As repulsive as some of the comments get they serve the greater purpose of showing how the soldiers deal with these internal conflicts.
An interesting object in the movie is the “Wall of Shame,” a billboard stationed at the center of the desert base for Marines to display pictures of wives or ex-girlfriends who have become unfaithful in their spouse’s absece. Throughout the movie we learn more and more about Swoff’s life and his girlfriend, Kristina. At first she is the driving force behind Swoff’s need for survival. It is this need to return to Kristina that Swoff believes will usher him unharmed through the battles and back to Sacramento. When uncertainty towards her faithfulness begins to surface, Gyllenhall begins an Oscar-worthy descent into madness.
Gyllenhall is accurate in portraying the conflicted role Swoff finds himself in in this film. He is simultaneously a leader and an outsider. He is an integral part of the platoon yet at the same time tries vehemently to disconnect himself from it. There is a need for Swoff to find himself buried deep beneath the sand. It is as if a retreat from sanity would calm him and free him from his demons but at the same time bind him to the role of wounded soldier. In the middle of Swoff’s near breakdowns Gyllenhall seems to channel Robert Duvall, taking on an air of invincibility and intense hubris. In one scene he stands up to the initial invasive actions of the Iraqis and savors the sting of the sand on his battered skin.
The film’s political views overtly reveal themselves only once, during a ride in the bed of a humvee, over Fowler’s belief in this being a just and right war versus Kruger’s skepticism over the meaning of the conflict. But what is subtly apparent is that this is an anti-war movie. Many who see this movie and pick up on the anti-war themes and immediately cast it off as another leftist Hollywood diatribe.
Those people are wrong. This is a biased film. It is so because it is a first-person retelling of Swofford’s experiences in the desert. For anyone to say this view is anti-American or unpatriotic in this time of obvious political divide denies the powerful influence a soldier’s narrative has in the retelling of a historical event, no matter what the view may be.
Where “Platoon” relied too heavily upon a conventional narrative, “Jarhead” offers a fractured voiceover that slides into the film on only the most appropriate times. “Apocalypse Now” offered only a glimpse into the possible depth of its characters. “Jarhead” introduces a cadre of characters who share one constant in their pursuit of a meaningful life: fulfillment of just goals.
