Just Over 500 Words on Full Metal Jacket, Jarhead, and Platoon

To point out that every war movie, without exception, consists of several action set pieces strung together into a semblance of a plot is such a trite observation that I hesitate to open this discussion with it. But, if the following remarks are to make any amount of sense, I find that I must. So: every war movie, without exception, consists of several action set pieces strung together into a semblance of a plot. Where one war movie differs from another is not so much in which set pieces they employ (though this does obviously play a role), but rather in what these set pieces mean.

Imagine the prototypical propaganda film: every firefight, every bombing run, and every ambush is justified. They are each and every one undeniably in service of the cause. In short, the violence is justified, and through this justification the audience is not only permitted to enjoy it, but encouraged to. Thus, there can be no ambiguity here: the enemy is the enemy is the enemy. Though this style of narrative has largely fallen out of fashion (I wonder why?), it is the default mode of storytelling for nearly all media set during the Second World War. To repurpose an earlier turn of phrase: a Nazi is a Nazi is a Nazi. (Of course, the exceptions to this general rule, by nature of them being exceptions, loom larger in the imagination; Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds and Peckinpah's Cross of Iron among them.)

Now imagine the ur-antiwar movie: the gritty Vietnam flick par excellence. The firefights, bombing runs, and ambushes remain intact, but their fundamental meaning has been radically altered. The so-called "cause" is a sham. Patriotism is compulsory. Futility pervades. "Look," the director says from behind the camera. "Look at the mindless slaughter. The empty victories and pointless losses." But, the director is invariably speaking out of both sides of his mouth. For in preserving the set pieces, in making a war movie, he must, on some level, reaffirm and recreate the object of critique.

There are only two "antiwar" movies that are worth the film they are printed on: Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket and Mendes' Jarhead. A scene from each to support this assertion:

  • The sniper scene at the conclusion of Full Metal Jacket drags on for long enough so as to become farcical. There is nothing heroic here, just draftees crawling through the mud towards a scared NVA shooter holed up in a bombed out building.
  • The airstrike scene in Jarhead plays on the same principles as those BDSM ruined orgasm videos: hours of foreplay only to be denied release at the critical moment. Jarhead is a shaggy dog joke, and Troy/Swofford are the punchline.
 Stone's Platoon (and dozens of other movies of Platoon's ilk) fails where Jarhead and Full Metal Jacket succeed. By centering the movie on an unlawful execution, Stone (accidentally, to be sure) absolves the propaganda film of guilt. In Platoon, Stone has created a negative image against which the most jingoistic movie can be compared against and thus absolved.

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