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Windtalkers
In an attempt to make a more serious picture, John Woo brings his high octane, action movie style to a World War II story based on true events.
Friday, June 14, 2002


 
Windtalkers is John Woo's follow-up to the smash success Tom Cruise vehicle Mission: Impossible 2, and the director's success has evidently borne that most feared impulse in a director's repertoire: the "serious" picture. In most cases, what that means is that the director abandons his or her chosen genre (in this case, high-octane, nihilistic action pictures) for a work that reflects emerging, or perhaps untapped maturity, to demonstrate that there is substance behind all of the flash. Woo, like many before him, fails, though sadly, not in so great a departure from his usual subject matter that we as an audience are able to distance ourselves from the fact that he is a spectacular director of action sequences, logic be damned. With Windtalkers, however, the glaring refutations of time, space and reality impress upon viewers the simple fact that Woo is at his best when he isn't attempting anything more significant than the most emptily satisfying explosion you're likely to enjoy - a scathing contradiction to the depth and reverence needed to tell a story of redemption in a true-life setting.

The film's credits are but a brief detour before we're thrown headlong into the first of many action sequences: Joe Enders (Nicolas Cage), a newly-promoted soldier, can do little but watch as his comrades are knocked off in a cacophonous firefight which, like those that follow it, seem to have little regard for procedural accuracy. Joe, conflicted by his "duty" to follow orders, and haunted by the ghosts of his friends, anxiously attempts to return to the front lines where he can execute with extreme prejudice any and all Japanese adversaries in one continuous, cathartic act. The brass, however, has other plans for the decorated hero: he is to protect a young Navajo named Ben Yahzee (Adam Beach), a code talker whose ability to translate coordinates through a virtually indecipherable Native American language may prove the edge the Allies need to emerge victorious. The two form an uneasy alliance, and find they must rely on one another more than either imagined.

 
Joe and Ben are mirrored by Ox and Charlie (Christian Slater and Roger Willie, respectively), and the juxtaposition of the two pairs suggests deeper layers of truth beneath this story of male camaraderie and redemption. Where Joe resists Ben's determined charm and welcoming spirit, Ox quickly befriends Charlie and the two, quite literally make beautiful music together. The two white men's orders, however, are clear: they musty protect the code at all costs, even if that means taking out their new best friends, and the Windtalkers demonstrates how time, and the circumstances of war, make friends of enemies, and how the kind of friendship that emerges becomes a necessity to survive the rigors of being a witness (much less a party) to death on a daily basis.

Woo's trademark themes are all working double-time in the war epic - male bonding, the blurred lines between good and bad, birds as some yet-unexplained redemptive creature, lots (and LOTS) of shooting. And so too are his weaknesses as a filmmaker, notably his lack of storytelling ability, an uncomfortable distance from plausibility, his (more and more frequently -) hyperactive camerawork. From Windtalkers' first scene, Woo seems to forego the idea that soldiers receive and deliver orders with any degree of formality, and this nonchalance towards historical accuracy undermines the dramatic effectiveness of the battle scenes. Japanese soldiers appear from any - and everywhere at once, without an ounce of strategy, and the Americans respond in kind, shooting in all directions at once, at anything, and in true action hero fashion, the good guys all too frequently hit their random targets while the bad guys miss. Perhaps Lethal Weapon's Martin Riggs was a consultant.

 
While these criticisms could easily be lobbied at Woo's earlier films, his distance from a storyline one could believe were possible, or at least his ignorance of one, elevates works like Face/Off and The Killer to some level of unholy creative union between the beautiful and the horrible, creating action scenes as artistic set-pieces. Windtalkers' "based on true events" tagline plants it squarely in a context which we are expecting to show nothing less than abject carnage, and yet something that might redeem the ideals upon which a free society is founded; Woo's action scenes here are at best gratuitous.

The actors are saddled with intermittently evocative dialogue, but the principals are all caricatures we've seen in countless action films: Cage's slack-jawed Joe is a case study in self-loathing antihero; Beach's Ben is the well-meaning newbie who learns about the meaning of life (and who develops the acumen and resources at just the right moment to save the day); Noah Emmerich's Texan Chick is an empty-headed bigot; Ruffalo's "Greek" Pappas is an ethnic version of Saving Private Ryan's Jeremy Davies, a scaredycat who finds his cojones just when the script needs him to. Only Peter Stormare's Hjelmstad is a conundrum: his implacable accent and consistently unlikeable screen presence causes one to give pause why he seems to work so frequently in past years.

Windtalkers is no doubt being heralded by its cast and crew as a tribute to the soldiers lost in WWII, and yet, its characters never seem more lifelike than the digital characters in George Lucas' epics - thinly drawn, artificially created vessels for pathos in an equally artificial reality. The film's delay in release from the end of last year at the time seemed a product of hyper-sensitivity to the tragic events of last September; this is perhaps the first film which deserves a bit of the backlash against Hollywood's willingness to oversimplify, and pour the melodrama into a real-life conflict just to pack a few movie houses.

Woo's general disregard for the story and/or character elements that made "horrors of war" movies like Black Hawk Down, The Thin Red Line and Saving Private Ryan masterpieces of the genre impedes his own blind hurtling toward the "classic" status which these films have all easily been awarded. Windtalkers is too celebratory of Woo's good guy-versus-bad guy, buddy-buddy ethos of action movies to rise above the limitations of the genre, and too obsessed with its' own seriousness to be a truly "serious" film.

 
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