The Hurt Locker

Shot with the jerky, handheld camera work – that has characterised war films since Spielberg’s breakthrough Second World War masterpiece, Saving Private Ryan, redefined the genre – The Hurt Locker captures the intensity and terror of modern warfare. In documentary style, the film follows the fortunes of three US soldiers in an elite bomb disposal squad stationed in Iraq. Director Kathryn Bigelow (Strange Days, Near Dark) expertly builds a tense excitement in the audience with very little ‘action’ on screen and elicits some riveting performances from the three main protagonists, as well as a couple of excellent cameos from Ralph Fiennes and Guy Pearce along the way.

Anthony Mackie, as Sergeant J.T. Sanborn, is the perfectly stoic counterpart to Jeremy Renner’s brilliant performance as reckless Staff Sergeant, William Jones. Brian Geraghty displays just the right amount of nervous energy as the rookie specialist, Owen Eldridge, struggling to cope with the death of his former Sergeant and caught in the middle of the other mens’ power struggle. For once, it’s the acting and screenplay that makes this movie a great watch, not dazzling special effects, and there’s been a lot of hype surrounding its release, most of which is deserved. Apparently it’s the only real contender to Avatar for the Best Picture/Director Oscars but then Avatar – despite being visually stunning – has about as much substance as a fart, so anything’s going to look good next to it; and I think that’s partially true of The Hurt Locker. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a good movie, but it has a couple of serious flaws which really let it down.

Firstly, it is an American war film that once again cannot resist the temptation to include a group of hapless British soldiers (or bounty hunters possibly) that can’t even change a tyre (I’m serious) and are desperately in need of rescuing by some true blue GIs… Which the duly do, of course, though, credit where credit’s due, the ensuing scene is superbly orchestrated.

Secondly, the film fails to deliver a message on the futility of war – and the war in Iraq in particular – and ultimately justifies and glamourises it with a Top Gun-esque ending that features a suited-up bomb disposal guy strutting down an arid Middle-Eastern street with some sort of heavy rock soundtrack. If the film had cut in the poignant supermarket scene seconds earlier we would have left the theatre with a profoundly different experience.

Those two things are enough to stop the film from being great. Does it deserve a Best Picture Oscar? Probably not, but it deserves one a hell of a lot more than Avatar. Let’s hope that all the pre-ceremony speculation is wrong and the award goes the way of District 9 instead, a more deserving winner by far.