Mission Unaccomplished

HPR — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 21:25:45 +0000

Robert Redford tackles the War on Terror

BY JONATHAN HAWLEY

After an eight-year hiatus, Robert Redford, one of the most popular and influential artists of his generation, has returned to the director’s chair. In Lions for Lambs, Redford aims for an evenhanded depiction of the War on Terror. While the endeavor is noble, the results are disappointing. The film too often devolves into heavy-handedness as a substitute for the profound analysis that the subject matter demands.

When Time Ran Out
The film’s plot, unfolding in real time, creates tension and suspense as three diverse stories converge. In Washington, a charismatic Republican senator (Tom Cruise) sits down for an exhaustive discussion of the future of the war with a respected political correspondent (Meryl Streep). Meanwhile in California, a world-weary professor (Redford) tries to talk sense to an unmotivated student (Andrew Garfield). In Afghanistan, two of the professor’s former students (Michael Peña and Derek Luke) lay stranded in enemy territory, surrounded by Taliban forces. As the clock ticks forward, each character feels the pain of time running out: for the senator, the end of political certainty; for the journalist and student, the end of a conversation; for the soldiers, the ends of their lives. Redford’s message on this point is clear: time is running for all of us.

Simple Mistakes
While Redford attempts to present each side of the current debate over the War on Terror in a fair light, the film’s message suffers from a simplistic depiction of its characters. This fact is evident when comparing Lions for Lambs with some of Redford’s previous works. In his greatest films as a director, Ordinary People and Quiz Show, Redford depicts intricate individuals and events with a subtle approach that emphasizes ambiguity and conflict. His discerning touch has created powerful and emotionally-charged stories. But one gets the feeling when watching Lions for Lambs that in his desire to prove a point, Redford sacrifices some of the complexity of the situation.

Take, for instance, Cruise’s Senator Jasper Irving. The character is not meant to be a stereotypical neoconservative. Irving is presented as an intelligent, astute strategist, a graduate of Harvard and West Point with deep moral convictions. However, smaller details—even something as minor as doctored photographs that feature Irving posing with George W. Bush and Dick Cheney—limit the dimensions of the character. The other characters also tend to lapse into a sort of formulaic temper that limits the overall potential of the film. Redford’s professor becomes the stereotypical liberal academic, Garfield’s student becomes the cynical Gen X adolescent, Streep becomes the jaded journalist.

The overall feeling one gets is similar to complaints leveled against the otherwise successful 2004 film Crash: In the effort to explore controversial subjects, the characters become hackneyed to the point that much of the emotional and political insight of the message is lost. In a time when politics itself is bedeviled by over-simplification of the issues, audiences might have benefited from a longer, more in-depth, and less forced depiction of the War on Terror.

The Film’s Roar
This is not to say the film is without its strong points. With a cast that includes heavy hitters like Redford, Streep, Cruise, and promising younger actors like Peña and Luke, the acting is top-notch. Redford brings a quiet wisdom to his role, Streep conveys her usual excellence, and Cruise in particular, with his smarmy charm, brings a real magnetism to Senator Irving. And newcomer Garfield, himself a Brit, somehow manages to perfectly capture the idiosyncrasies of modern American youth.

In addition, one of the more important take-away messages is pleasantly surprising. Rather than creating a pure anti-war picture, the movie explores the unfortunate decline in activism and public service. Redford’s character desperately tries to impart to his student that a well-informed and engaged citizenry, not war, is the strongest safeguard of democracy. This point is nicely captured in the film’s open-ended conclusion: The audience is left hoping, if not knowing, that at least one active citizen will prevail. The message may not be subtle, but it certainly is refreshing.

For Our Consideration
In the end, Lions for Lambs is not Redford’s best work, nor will it be the best film about the War on Terror. But the quality of those who made it warrants consideration, and the message it conveys deserves our attention.