War, Inc.

This film has already had a lot of excellent reviews from people who actually know how to write them, but i’m forging ahead regardless, part experiment and part penance for having been impatient and snatched it out of cyberspace. Promoting it on the blog seems like the least i can do. There’s just no telling how long it’s going to take for this satirical masterpiece to hit theatres in Budapest and even though a Hungarian soldier died last week in Afghanistan while defusing a bomb, (a news item lost in the media coverage of UK soldiers dying there – more than 100 but lower round numbers always more appealing news fodder than seemingly undramatic higher ones), i generally inhabit a solitary universe when it comes to ranting about destruction in the Middle East and all the nasty, obscene details of the neo-con agenda in action; sometimes one is compelled to step outside the law for confirmation of sanity, n’est-ce pas? So Mr. Cusack & Co., begging your forgiveness here, it’s not that i’m a cheapskate, i definitely want the film to be a financial success so you’ll be encouraged to make its pedagogical sequel (Yonica organizes disaffected Latin American vets from Iraq to kidnap former VP when he goes to open new Ecuadoran pipeline…. closing shot of him using a banana leaf to wipe ass while Howler monkeys break into his stash of Cuban cigars). Furthermore, i promise i’ll see War, Inc. on the big screen when eventually it does play in my neighborhood - and bring along some friends, to boot!

OK, first a musical interlude (since this entry is going to push the Leningrad Cowboys off my front page).


Now, on with the review.

Art Buchwald once reflected, “After all of these years in the business, I think you want to be known as a satirist, because you want people to nod their heads instead of laughing, saying, ‘Yes, he's right.’" This means, of course, that a successful satirist must bide his/her time until a critical mass within the intended audience is sufficiently up to speed to appreciate the brilliance of the work, and either angry or desensitized enough (both?) to accept its implications. Kubrick understood this, modifying both the release date and script of Dr. Strangelove so as not to pinch the wound left by JFK’s assassination, yet offering up his spot on vision of Cold War madness at a time when the nuclear arms race had already begun to spin out of control in fuller public view. Coppola was able to drop little snipits of satire in Apocalypse Now – “I love the smell of napalm in the morning!” – though probably in the context of that extremely dark cinematographic masterpiece, these should probably be considered outlets for cynicism rather than satire, since one thing Nixon did succeed at was turning a generation of Americans into hardcore cynics.

Another piece of the equation then, is that satire can serve as a vehicle for the reluctant cynic to inspire progressive (as opposed to regressive, read “barbaric”) change. In the realm of warmongering, one has to hope this would take the form of people demanding limits, if not a complete end, to whatever military endeavour is targeted by the work in question. The great thing about War, Inc. is that it succeeds in doing this on a number of levels: superpowerdom, war profiteering, as well as individuals grabbing onto threads of self-respect in the midst of 21^st century violence and commodification madness. If you don’t come away clamoring against crony-corporatism and embedded media, and thinking about how many times you’ve eaten at Burger King or Pizza Hut in the past month, then sorry but you just weren’t ready for this film. (Hey, don’t worry, some might say you’re in excellent company; unfortunately and believe me when i say this, those people are not your friends.)

The story line of War, Inc. revolves around a repentant jackal (John Cusack) sent to a fictitious country, Turaqistan, to off a bookish leader who’s stepped out of line by building his own pipeline and thus, asserted a right to control the movement of oil/gas independent of the Americans (whom we all know believe themselves to have titan-like first dibs on all Earth’s natural resources). The country is occupied by a privatized military force: Blackwater, Halliburton and CH2MHill rolled into one well-armed savage beast. Cusack maneuvers through the film as though he's just come off the set of Blazing Saddles and can't quite believe that during the interim, the manifest destiny doctrine has actually come to encapsulate the entire globe. ("My horse! My horse!") A perfect blend of cynicism and self-reflective surreal. There’s a leftie reporter determined to get the real story, and a Central European pop star, whose wedding to the son of Turaqistan’s president is set up as an opaque promotional event. Joan Cusack and Dan Akroyd brilliantly embodied the shock doctrine background the writers drew from, and Ben Kingsley takes his role from Polanski’s Death and the Maiden and turns it on its insane little head. The film was mostly shot in Bulgaria, and employed some excellent local talent for lesser - though key - supporting roles.

The sink-your-teeth-into-it momentum of the film is generated by Marisa Tomei’s and Hillary Duff’s stellar performances. Tomei portrays a smart, self-possessed journalist who understands the Big Picture, how absolutely out of control (and beyond reach to reign in) oil occupation forces have become; she sees those so engaged as being no more than that (essentially, robotic). You know this character would easily despair towards suicide were it not for her noble mission, the very framework of which defines her world, and yet she’s nearly gleeful upon encountering the possibility that behind a managerial level killing machine, a human being may actually exist. A potent message here, intended or not, the best way to not completely lose it in these insanely troubled times is by having personal relationships that matter. Flipside, it is through people like her that those inside the monster may be able to find the footing necessary to get out. That there is no middle ground is clear, since even the apolitical Barbie Doll eventually must make the choice to either revolt or succumb.

Though i’ve still no idea exactly where she came from (i’ve been told she’s a pop singer???), or perhaps because she was a total unknown to me, i say give Hillary Duff an Oscar for her portrayal of the sexpot, Yonica Babyyeah. She nailed the part to a cross and then carried it without once losing her balance. That imagery may seem overblown, but it actually fits with how i perceive not only the character, but her real life counterparts. Yonica is the micro to globalized warfare’s macro. One some level, even she understands that the best way for a wistful young woman surrounded by greedy men to achieve any kind of reasonably comfortable, i.e. stereotypically middle class, lifestyle, is by turning herself into a commodity that satisfies male greed. The performing aspect of this is a way for girls to trick themselves into believing they actually exert power over their situations, but in truth, i don’t believe it works that way: you either play roulette or you don’t. However, Yonica is hardly in need of redemption, she’s just figured out how to survive and then, as i’ve already alluded to, she gets to choose between staying in that bubble or bursting it. Anyone criticizing Duff or the film itself, in all likelihood will be among those who don’t want to see her break free, the folks satisfied with the status quo or afraid of the world beyond it.

If none of the this inspires you to see War, Inc. then i’ve got one more hook to toss out. John Cusack and/or his producers opted to do their initial publicity on the web, largely through a site on MySpace. After spending millions to make the film (remember that Lou Reed lyric? Does anybody really need another million dollar movie?) and given the increasing disillusionment by entertainment industry artists (and writers) with the way consolidation for profit has homogenized their output and artistic options, it’s close to noble that the War, Inc. team tried to get this film out without a major studio marketing campaign. Think of it as buying Pearl Jam tickets directly from the band instead of going through Ticket Master. We need successful alternative models to Hollywood marketing, wasting massive resources to get in the Guinness book of opening box office sales and supply big studio producers with obscene amounts of wealth.

But hey, even if you don’t care about any of this and just want to be entertained, go see War, Inc. It is the definitive satirical film of our times and there’s no question that with so much really serious shit going on in the world, you’ll feel more able to process at least some little part of it all after indulging yourself in a hearty, if not slightly self-conscious, laugh.