The Hurt Locker (Dir.Kathryn Beigelow)
The Hurt Locker, such a bruising, brilliant experience, can be viewed as the culmination, to date, of Bigelow’s heightened MO. Amongst her snorting satire of macho posturing that was Point Break crops up a pumped and tattoo-splattered surf-warrior derisively dubbed War Child. Now, heartbreakingly, she has found a true war child, a soul that can only function in country. Without the breast-beating of the Sarandon-Robbins crew, without much Bush-bashing at all, it’s a tragic picture of men defined by conflict.
If it lacks the grand breadth of the great war movies, the mythical elevation of an Apocalypse Now, say, Bigelow has envisioned a stunning microcosm of hell that asks the most nakedly important question of all: will they make it?
From Empire Online
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