Month: September 2023

PLATOON

By Marc S. Sanders

Oliver Stone’s Oscar winning Platoon takes place in the late 1960s, somewhere on the Cambodian border during the Vietnam War.  Many of the chaotic happenings the film presents are based on Stone’s own experiences after he voluntarily enlisted to fight.  However, while there is an unwinnable war occurring for the American troops, there is just as horrifying a battle going on within the ranks of the platoon the film focuses on.

Charlie Sheen echoes a lot of his father’s, Martin Sheen, voiceover narration, and performance in Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now.  He portrays Chris Taylor, a college dropout who voluntarily enlisted for a one-year tour of duty to serve.  After only one week within the harsh, humid, and wet jungles, he’s writing his grandmother a letter asking what the hell was he thinking.  Chris is quite virginal to the harshness of war and that won’t work to his advantage when needing mentoring and support from his fellow soldiers.  The newest enlistees are the ones at the front point.  They haven’t devoted enough time to sit in the back and because of their lack of experience with war, they are not as valuable for the ongoing campaign in battle.  Platoon is not the heroics depicted in John Wayne movies.  This was one reason that Oliver Stone wanted to make this picture.  Platoon is a bitter retort to Wayne’s celebrated movie, The Green Berets.

There is an angel and devil flanking Chris in the form of Elias (Willem Dafoe) and Barnes (Tom Berenger).  Berenger is the cruel side of the conflict with his battle-scarred face.  He gives his underlings the impression that because he’s seen so much fighting and endured being shot seven times, that he must be invincible.  Elias is a fighting soldier, but he adheres to the rules of war and when it is time for rest, he joins his fellow troops in a unified vigil of drug-induced relaxation.  Chris warms up to Elias easily despite his initial fears of being a soldier with no experience or knowledge of how to survive, much less fight alongside his fellow men.

What drives the conflict between Barnes and Elias occurs following the first act of the movie.  The infantrymen come upon a Vietnamese village.  Some men, including Chris, get wildly abusive with the unarmed people, burning and pillaging their huts.  Only after Chris gets control of himself does he realize the wrongs he’s capable of by serving in this war.  He prevents a group of men from gang raping a child.  Furthermore, he witnesses Barnes commit the illegal murder of a defenseless village woman, shot at point blank range.  Elias has his bearings though and will file the proper reports when the opportunity permits.  Nothing in Platoon is easy though.  This war rages on and the possibility of an investigation and court martial is held off while the fighting continues. 

An interesting take on Oliver Stone’s direction is that he never really shows any close ups or lends any dialogue to the Viet Cong.  I believe Stone is confident that people know who our battalions were supposed to engage with.  However, as another favorite picture of mine stated (Crimson Tide), the true enemy of war is war itself.  The enemies of Elias, Chris, and Barnes as well as the rest of the platoon permeate within and among themselves and it lends to the chaos of the brutal combat scenes depicted in the film. Stone doesn’t offer much opportunity to see who any of the soldiers are shooting at or who is shooting at them.   There is much screaming and hollering but who are any of the characters shouting at and can they even be heard or understand what is being said amid the gunfire?  Platoon demonstrates that a Vietnam war picture is not one of heroics with grandstanding trumpets and a towering John Wayne who takes a hill.  War is disorganized, messy, and terribly bloody. 

This may be Charlie Sheen’s best film of his career.  As he represents the fictional account of Oliver Stone’s personal experiences, we see the trajectory of his change.  He is supposed to be there for 365 days, and he, along with his buddies, count down to when their tour will be complete.  However, this one short year will be the longest he ever encounters, and it will change him permanently, assuming he survives.  Chris is always tested of his tolerance.  He’s always subject to respond to how Barnes commands or how Elias mentors and leads. 

Oliver Stone is so convincing in his often-documentary approach to Platoon that it is at least understandable to see how the men in this picture behave and carry themselves.  Why do they refer to the Vietnamese as “gooks.”  Why do they bully with intent to commit rape.  Why do they quickly pounce to kill when for even a moment there is no threat.  Moreover, why they are willing to turn on each other.

They were never the decision makers for this conflict.  These soldiers are depleted of sleep and rest.  They are the pawns of a higher power, and they have been left to their own devices in a dense environment infested with bugs, snakes, unbearable humidity, and bodies that infest the waters and land while armed men appear out of nowhere ready to ambush.  Some ensnarements might occur within their own regimen.  None of these men are justified in their actions.  Yet, it is not hard to understand where their motivations stem from.  They are not programmed for heroics.  Keith David portrays a likable soldier who tells Chris that his mission is just to survive until he’s summoned home.  Survive among those you march and sleep with.  Outlast this hellish environment and overcome those that are trying to mow you down in machine gun fire.  Everything else around here is “just gravy.”  When you are an infantryman, you are not making a statement any longer.  You are not fighting for a cause anymore.  You are only trying to stay alive.

Platoon is such a shocking film of unconventional madness and turmoil.  Oliver Stone is relentless in the set ups he stages.  This picture came out in 1986, long before the strategic methods of the modern “shaky camera” approach.  It’s beneficial to watch the film as Stone must be positioning his camera on a track as the platoon hikes through the forest, parallel to his moving lens.  We are walking alongside them.   Early morning overhead shots depict the carnage of battles that occurred in the dark of night. Flares and sparks come from nowhere.  I think you could watch this movie ten times and still not know when to expect gunfire to intersect with the story or when the bombs to go off.  It’s hectic hysteria like I can only imagine these young men experienced before they spilled their blood on the battleground and either died right there or returned home physically and mentally crippled for life.

Platoon is one of the best and most frightening war pictures ever made.

AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY

By Marc S. Sanders

Once the dead are buried, the secrets come out.  Some mourn the loss.  Others mourn the reality of what existed.  Tracy Letts’ Pulitzer Prize winning play August: Osage County was adapted into a very well-cast film in 2013.  Letts’ screenplay is just as biting as his original source. Perhaps that is because of the performances of not just Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts, but also the entire collection of actors.

Dysfunctional is not a strong enough word for the Weston family of the sleepy, lifeless area of Osage County, Oklahoma.  The patriarch, Beverly (Sam Shepard) hires Johnna (Misty Upham) a Native American housekeeper/helper, for his pill popping, cigarette smoking wife Violet (Streep) who is also stricken with cancer of the mouth.  Shortly after, Beverly disappears.  The family comes home to the dusty shelves of books and old black and white family photographs and learns that Beverly has committed suicide.  The opportunities flood in for Violet (or Vi) to unleash every ugly, harsh truth that her three daughters Barbara, Ivy and Karen (Roberts, Julianne Nicholson and Juliette Lewis) have encountered along with their partners.  There’s also Vi’s sister Fannie Mae (Margo Martindale), her husband Charlie (Chris Cooper) and their son Little Charlie (Benedict Cumberbatch) to revisit the revelations of the Weston family.  Barbara’s estranged husband Bill (Ewan MacGregor) and her daughter Jean (Abigail Breslin) have their own drama to contend with as well.

It’s best not to spoil too much of what is revealed in the movie directed by John Wells.  The centerpiece of the picture is the afternoon family meal following the funeral service.  This must be one of the most intense and captivating dinner scenes caught on film in recent years.  Wells positions his cameras perfectly, so you know where every family member is seated at the table and the trading of barbs that go back and forth between the different combinations of arguments.  I would say the scene lasts at least twenty minutes and Wells manages to seat the viewer next to or right in front of every person at the table.  At one end of the table is Charlie.  Chris Cooper is a reluctant fill in to the void left by Beverly, the original patriarch.  The instigator is Vi. Meryl Streep is placed at the other head of the table where her drug addled eye contact can be had with anyone seated in her presence.  I’d love to have seen Meryl Streep while shooting this scene because even when the camera is not on her for a close up, I can still see that she is there in the dining room.  I’d argue she never turned off this persona during the making of this film. 

The most agonizing relationship is clearly between Vi and oldest daughter Barbara.  The first pairing on screen for Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts.  Why didn’t it happen sooner?  Moreover, why hasn’t it happened again since this film?  Perhaps because it is rare to find material of this dramatic weight to justify what can come from these two incredible actors.

The dinner scene is left discomforting to say the least, but the timing and delivery of Tracy Letts’ dialogue is functioning with high energy.  At age fourteen, Jean is the youngest member at the table, and she is questioned as to why she doesn’t eat meat.  According to her, you are consuming an “animal’s fear.”  The Westons are only adoring when they are cruel to one another.  One of the rare times that the rest of the family will unite with the antagonizing Vi is when they can mock and chortle at young Jean’s philosophy for “claiming” to be vegan, which is also undone by her parents when they reveal what she eats back home in Colorado. 

A hip middle aged Florida man named Steve (Dermot Mulroney) in a Ferrari has accompanied Karen to Osage.  Karen is the flighty one with her head in the clouds.  Steve has been married three times and takes a liking to teenage Jean’s curiosity to try pot.  Vi expresses disdain for the jerk with another welcome facial expression from Streep, but Tracy Letts does not have his character lash out or protest Karen’s choice to marry the guy.  For Violet Weston, it is better that Karen does marry this letch.  It gives Vi more purpose to criticize and belabor upon one more poor decision made by another daughter.  Violet thrives on bellowing out the shortcomings of her children, her dead poet/author husband, her sister, and anyone else within her presence.  It’s how she lives and overcomes her cancer while an unkempt wig conceals her chemo remaining grey hairs.

On the side, a relationship is brewing between first cousins Little Charlie and Vi’s middle daughter Ivy.  They know it’s wrong, but they can’t help hiding their affections much longer.  Cumberbatch goes against type here as a nervous, insecure young man who has not matured from his boyhood nature.  Julianne Nicholson appears to be the most held together of the three daughters as she has never ventured out of Osage while living with her parents.  She is now ready to give up that lifestyle, and she’s leaving it in Barbara’s lap to figure what’s to come of Vi. 

Barbara is the most unhinged.  She is married to sweet natured but boring Bill and it’s likely that the past demons she clung to from her upbringing left Osage with her when she relocated to Colorado with her husband and daughter.  Bill might be having a tryst with one of his college students but is he the worst one in the marriage?  Barbara Weston might be Julia Roberts’ best role since her early career film introduction in Steel Magnolias and her Oscar winning turn in Erin Brockovich.  In films like these, Julia Roberts doesn’t look like the starlet she once was in the 1990s.  In August: Osage County she has downed her appearance with no makeup, unwashed hair, and wrinkled clothes while carrying an emotionally exhausted physique.  However, she’s perfect to play the eldest daughter who somehow must be the one responsible for picking up the shattered pieces of dishware that hit the floor on numerous occasions and fractured connections left behind in the family dynamic.  This is a commanding performance by Julia Roberts; one that needs to be seen.  Incidentally, she never does clean up the broken plates.  I only assume it would be her who must do so.  However, the quiet Johnna is around somewhere. She will make everything disappear.

Memorably, a physical altercation ends the dinner.  The day passes into the next mid afternoon and more secrets are uncovered.  Some are quite horrifying, considering the circumstances that some members of the family have themselves in.  Just when you think that this script is ending with a debate of which daughter will look after mother now that daddy is gone, there’s more troubling truth to grapple with as well.

August: Osage County is a movie hinged on the acting chops of its cast with a smart, unforgiving script for the damaged characters depicted.  It falls in the same category as David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross or Sam Shepard’s True West.  We may be witnessing the abnormalities and sins of these people, but it would be more unusual had these folks possessed genuine happiness and solid affection for one another.  The quietly muted Native American Johnna enters the household of people who replaced her own people, who occupied this land long before the early generations of Westons ever arrived.  It’s telling that Tracy Letts demonstrates the original occupants still survive in peace while the ones that took over can’t find a way to live happily among themselves.  Watch the film or see the play.  Then come back and tell me if the white folks of the Weston family truly belong in the once occupied Native American Osage County, Oklahoma.

GARDEN STATE

By Marc S. Sanders

The irony of Zach Braff’s Garden State is that the protagonist he portrays is heavily medicated to subdue any variation of depression or anger induced mood swings.  Yet, it seems like everyone else in the picture should be off the drugs, and those that aren’t taking any, should revert to some appropriate pharmaceuticals.  STAT!

Braff wrote and directed this quirky comedy-drama loosely inspired by his upbringing in northern New Jersey.  He plays Andrew “Large” Largeman.  He’s an actor living in Los Angeles when his father calls him to let him know that his quadriplegic mother has drowned in the bathtub.  Andrew seems like what Cameron from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off might have become a few years after he kicked his dad’s prized Ferrari out the glass garage.  This guy is sullen, sedate and when speaks or responds to a question, you might think he’s catatonic as well.  He’s just so numb from the medicinal products he takes.  They were prescribed by his psychiatrist, who also happens to be his father, Gideon, played with quiet tension by Ian Holm.

At the graveside funeral, Andrew comes upon some childhood friends who never left Jersey behind.  Peter Sarsgaard is Mark who vaguely remembers Andrew and invites him to a party later that night which is likely just like last weekend’s party and the weekend before that.  Mushrooms, weed, coke, alcohol.  It’s all there.

The next day Andrew meets a precocious young lady named Sam (Natalie Portman) who recommends he fend off a humping seeing eye dog by kicking him in the balls.  This unexpected introduction is what will meaningfully break Andrew of his stupor. The bond between Sam and Andrew will carve out the rest of Garden State following a meanderingly weird exposition.  I’m grateful for that because just when you think this film is going nowhere fast, even if it is told at a slow pace, the story absorbs a sweet narrative shared between two very likable characters.

There’s a lot of eccentricities in Zach Braff’s film which he admirably wrote and directed as well.  Living in New Jersey for fourteen years of my childhood, I don’t recall anything within my nearby Jewish suburban neighborhoods being this oddball.  Then again, Braff is maybe a little too ambitious to have one strange character turn up after another.  A woman at the funeral makes him a shirt that matches the wallpaper of the hallway.  A dim-witted cop asks how he did when he procedurally pulls Andrew over.  Another guy shoots flaming arrows into the air in the backyard of his mansion for Sam and Andrew to haphazardly dodge their descent. 

Mark is not only a grave digger in the cemetery, but a robber as well, stealing the jewelry from the remains in the coffins.  Sam lives with her mom and adopted Nigerian brother amid Dobermans and a hamster jungle gym that stretches the entire course of the house and serves as a hazard for one poor rodent after another.  Sam has a well populated little pet cemetery out back.

Amid all these strange visuals and discoveries, there is a background to Andrew’s need to be drugged by his father.  He was the cause of his mother’s disability when he was age nine and pushed her down, causing permanent paralysis. 

There are colorful backgrounds to Andrew and Sam and a curiosity to learn more about them.  Still, the film seems to stretch its running time with too much unusual, oddball material.  I responded to most of it with a smirk or chuckle, but I ask myself why.  Why is so much of this here?  It builds up a setting, perhaps.  I’m just not sure.  There’s an overt weirdness to every single character seen in this film.  Nevertheless, I don’t believe Braff’s intentions were to duplicate a Wes Anderson formula.

Fortunately, Zach Braff offers a wonderful character arc where Andrew becomes more and more awakened as the film moves on, while clinging to Sam’s company and abandoning his father’s prescriptions.  Natalie Portman seems to mature over the course of the picture. Sam’s quirk is that she tells tall tale lies in rapid succession.  That façade nicely breaks down to show the genuine person Sam truly is later.  When her mother boasts a video recording of an ice-skating routine that Sam did while dressed as an alligator, the embarrassment on Natalie Portman’s face is so naturally telling.

Ian Holm should also be recognized as he portrays the opposite of whatever dialogue Braff wrote for the father character.  That’s a great challenge.  A scene in the kitchen has Gideon dressed in a bland, beige sweater and tie and he seems to hide within the pale walls of the room.  There’s no life to the guy.  Nothing stimulating, despite how educated the man may appear.  So, it seems unjustified for Gideon to tell his son later that he wants them to be happy like they used to be.  Braff’s character wisely responds by being unable to recall any time when they were ever happy.  Moments like these are the strength and intelligence immersed in Garden State.  The assortment of side quirks does not have this kind of staying power, though.

I like Garden State but there’s no way I could love it or embrace it.  There’s just too much moroseness within the strange residents amid their sleepy conversations to make me want to stay with any of these characters.  The benefit of watching the film is to see what Zach Braff, Natalie Portman and Ian Holm lend to the picture – three wonderful performances.