B+
Kathryn Bigelow’s pulsating Zero Dark Thirty, which chronicles the decade-long hunt for al-Qaeda terrorist leader Osama Bin Laden, bangs its drum to a different beat. By not falling into the trappings of jingoism and lazy storytelling, Bigelow constructs an honest, historically accurate (aside from a few caveats), and captivating recreation of ten years in history (2001-2011) that will forever be ingrained into the hearts and minds of not only the American people, but the World.
Bigelow immediately establishes the tone of this story. The film opens with a black screen. We hear only the voices of those suffering in and around the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Fathers and mothers saying their goodbyes before their impending death, screaming and crying, commotion and tragedy abound. In the hands of a less gifted, more indulgent filmmaker, this opening sequence – along with the rest of the film – would not be so subtle and precise in its execution.
Maya (Jessica Chastain), a whip-smart and endlessly determined CIA-agent committed to the idea that Bin Laden is not where he says he is (some remote cave in Afghanistan), is at the heart and soul of Zero Dark Thirty. Subsequently Maya’s philosophy that Bin Laden is actually living in open sight (where he can still manage terrorists operations), is explored through Mark Boal’s riveting 157-minute screenplay.
A myriad of game-changing attacks are interwoven through Maya’s tireless hunt for Bin Laden. Chief among them are the catastrophic London bombings, an attempted bombing in Times Square, and a suicide bomber that killed a half-dozen CIA operatives in Afghanistan. Bigelow conceives these events in a docudrama style that transports you away from fantasy and into reality. Her approach to the material is so head on that at moments you feel as if you’re watching these horrific tragedies unfold right before your eyes.
Of course, Zero Dark Thirty is just a movie – a borderline great one that. But as with any film, many will insist that Bigelow fictionalizes, embellishes the truth. Primarily whether torture was actually used (and aided) in the capturing of Bin Laden. Political pundits (many of whom haven’t even seen the film) have debated whether Bigelow’s film is “pro-torture” ad nauseam.
While the court is still out on whether torture was utilized or not, within in the context of the film it was certainly a tactic that was effective and helpful (albeit immoral). That doesn’t imply Zero Dark Thirty (or Bigelow for that matter) is for the use of brutal torture. The act of torture is merely depicted (not condoned) as something that occurred in the beginning stages of the War on Terror.
We typically tend to applaud films that provoke discourse within society, but the haphazard conversations being had (especially in America) are ultimately overshadowing the film itself. Bigelow has crafted a candid piece of work that’s unlike the cinematic drivel released each week. There’s a certain emotional detachment to the film that’s jarring. So jarring, in fact, you wonder whether audiences will be off-putted by the overall final product.
Kyle Chandler, Jason Clarke, and James Gandolfini are all uniformly excellent, playing their roles with conviction. Clarke, as the CIA-agent who facilitates the torture and waterboarding, is especially brilliant. But despite the talent on screen (and every actor and actress cast in the film does feel perfectly cast) this is Jessica Chastain’s movie. She radiates with passion as a strong-willed agent dedicated to serving this country and ending the life of a man who causes so much pain to so many people.
Zero Dark Thirty comes to the conclusion we’re all expecting. How could it not? We know Bigelow must conclude with the invasion of Bin Laden’s compound in Abbottabad, followed by the gunshots that ended the life of the most infamous terrorist in the World. We know the outcome, and yet Bigelow is talented enough to make those last 30-minutes as gripping as anything on the silver screen this past year.
However, there’s an intangible lack of satisfaction that comes from Bin Laden’s death (both within the context of the film and in our own reality). Perhaps this is because Bin Laden’s ultimate demise did not come with a bang, but a morbid whimper. And that same sad, lamenting whimper represents the thousands upon thousands of men and women lost in Middle-Eastern wars we perhaps had no reason to wage. Then again, what is any war but a reckless, damaging, money-grubbing Children’s Crusade?
