They don't make war films like they used to

Michael Medved

YOU KNOW WHAT military recruiters are--the men and women who go to high schools and colleges and tell young people about their opportunities to serve their country in the military. Well, now there also are counter-recruiters who go to these schools and tell young people why they should not serve their country in the military. I had one of them on my radio show along with a college freshman--and she asked him a crucial question, one he could not answer intelligently: "What would the world be like without the American military?" He said it would be a "beautiful place." Of course, this only would be true if a world enslaved under Nazism or communism or Islamo-fascism could be called beautiful.

These counter-recruiters, by the way, have received such strong support from teachers unions in the Los Angeles Unified School District that it has been mandated that they be given equal access with military recruiters in those high schools. How have we come to such a pass? One of the important underlying factors is that the popular culture fundamentally has changed in the way it portrays the military and its mission.

Consider two movies released a few months back: "The Jacket" and "The Pacifier." The former began by showing American troops committing atrocities during the first Persian Gulf War and goes from there. What is fascinating is that it is one of the very few films that even make reference to that war at all. Remember, when the U.S. was involved in that conflict, it was not controversial like the recent war in Iraq. There was a huge worldwide coalition and the American public supported it more than any conflict since World War II, according to pollsters. Nevertheless, I can count on the fingers of one hand the movies that have made any reference to it at all. There was "The Manchurian Candidate" in the summer of 2004, in which there is an evil conspiracy involving brainwashing and torturing on the part of American businessmen; before that there was "Courage Under Fire" with Meg Ryan and Denzel Washington, which was about a friendly-fire incident, military cover-ups, and the mistreatment of a brave young female officer: and then there was "Three Kings," starring George Clooney, which also is about the corruption of the U.S. military and America's betrayal of its allies. So, here is an incredibly popular war and Hollywood hardly touches it. Moreover, Tinseltown's moviemakers never treat it in any sort of favorable light. Why?

In "The Pacifier," starring Vin Diesel, the plot revolves around a Navy SEAL who is assigned to rescue a top-secret government scientist from terrorists. It is pretty silly, but here is the interesting thing: At the conclusion of the opening sequence, which is quite thrilling, it turns out that the terrorists who have kidnapped this government scientist are ... Serbian! How many Americans do you know who go to sleep at night worrying about an attack on our homeland from Serbian terrorists?

Here we are with our country engaged in what author Norman Podhoretz rightly has called World War IV (World War Ill being the Cold War), with Americans serving not just in Iraq and Afghanistan, but 'all over the world, trying to keep us safe here in the U.S. Our enemies do, after all, have a name: They are Islamic fascists and they aim at our annihilation. Yet, Hollywood, if it notices the war on terrorism at all, gives us Serbian terrorists. This bizarre behavior, by the way, extends back before Sept. 11. Do you remember "Sum of All Fears," a film based on a Tom Clancy novel? In the book, there are Islamic terrorists and it largely is realistic. In the movie version, the Islamic terrorists have been transformed into German neo-Nazis and it is completely unrealistic.

What is going on here? Wouldn't you think, given the universal American concern about the monstrous and evil people who attacked this country on Sept. 11, 2001, that this is an issue with which Hollywood would grapple? During WWII, there were countless movies dealing with the war--and no, the German Nazis were not portrayed as Uruguayans or Fiji Islanders. The truth of the matter is, war movies have changed in a fundamental way and, I would submit, a dangerous way for the health of our culture and the strength of our Republic.

Three elements always were present in classic war movies--films like the John Wayne version of "The Alamo," or "The Longest Day," or "A Bridge Too Far" or "Sergeant York." First, there was great affection for, and indeed glorification of, the American fighting man, who was portrayed as one of us--as representative of the best of what this country is. Second, there was obvious sympathy for the U.S. cause. Third, the wars being dramatized were portrayed as having significant meaning.

Every once in a while, we still will get a war film of this type. "Saving Private Ryan" is an example--even though there is the line where the Tom Hanks character says, "If we can bring Private Ryan back to his mother, then this whole god-awful war will have meant something." Obviously, World War II would have meant something even if Private Ryan had been lost. Another example is "Glory," a great Civil War picture about a famous African-American regiment made up partly of former slaves, and its doomed but gallant assault on Ft. Wagner in South Carolina. Then there is Mel Gibson's "We Were Soldiers," the single finest film ever made about Vietnam. Such traditional war films, however, are the rare exception nowadays.

It is far more common in contemporary war films, regardless of the conflict being depicted, for the three elements of the classic war movie to be turned on their heads. U.S. troops are more likely than not to be portrayed as sick, warped, and demented--in any case, very different from normal Americans. The audience quite often is manipulated to root for the other side, whoever or whatever the other side happens to be. Furthermore, whatever the war, the audience is left with the idea that it is meaningless.

Think of "Platoon," which won the Academy Award for best picture in 1986. It gives viewers an absolutely nightmarish vision of Vietnam. Most of the characters close to the main character, played by Charlie Sheen--including a demonic sergeant portrayed by Tom Berringer--are dangerous, dysfunctional, and horrible. The U.S. military is seen as being in Vietnam primarily to kill and torture people and burn villages--and, of course, the message is that the war was totally meaningless. Or consider "Dances with Wolves," another Oscar winner, in which Kevin Costner stars as an officer who is a traitor to his country. He abandons the Army and goes to fight with the Sioux. The American military--again--is seen as sadistic and disgusting and inferior in every way to the peaceful, refined, and altogether enlightened Sioux warriors.

"Cold Mountain" is a Civil War film in which every aspect of that war is seen as nightmarish and pointless. Then there was "Revolution," a perfectly dreadful picture in which Al Pacino, his Bronx accent fully intact, plays a veteran of the American War for Independence. It has George Washington and company kidnapping people and forcing them to fight against their will, whereas the British are decent and the entire war is shown to be hypocritical at best. The list could go on and on. In "A Few Good Men," Tom Cruise exposes the military monster played by Jack Nicholson. "The General's Daughter," starring John Travolta, oozes with military corruption--but you get the point.

So, why the change in approach? Why has Hollywood decided to make movies that characterize the military as unrepresentative and twisted, the U.S. as a malignant force in the world, and all wars as pointless? Apologists will say that, in Vietnam, we discovered a different face--the true face--of the military. We saw the hideous acts of Lieut. William Calley, Jr., who massacred several hundred villagers at My Lai. We heard stories, such as those told by John Kerry before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in 1971, about how U.S. atrocities in Vietnam were not the exception, but the rule. Furthermore. these Hollywood apologists will say the Vietman War revealed American idealism to be a sham and demonstrated that the U.S. is not a beacon of freedom, rather an imperialist threat. Thus, Susan Sarandon, one of the "intellectual leaders" of the Hollywood community, stated in 1991 that the U.S. "is a land that has raped every area of the world." As for the idea that war is meaningless, this is presented as a natural (and beneficial) realization arising from Vietnam as well. Because 58,000 brave young Americans died for no reason in Vietnam, they maintain, it is inevitable and good that people have become deeply and permanently disillusioned about war in general.

The problem with all of these Vietnam-based justifications for the modern war film is that they are built on falsehoods. For example, those who thoroughly have investigated the Vietnam War--including Guenter Lewy, who wrote a magisterial history of it--have concluded that Vietnam, far from having the highest incidence of war atrocities in American history, had some of the lowest.

I also would cite the despicable, unforgivable treatment by Hollywood of the Vietnam veteran. There have been numerous "compassionate" films about the effects of Vietnam on those who fought there. Movies like "'Rolling Thunder" with John Lithgow, "In Country" with Bruce Willis, "Cease Fire" with Don Johnson, and "Jackknife" with Ed Harris depict veterans as psychiatric cases who came home from the war broken. Then there is the absurd "Rambo" series about a long-suffering vet twisted into a psychotic killer. In truth, the typical Vietnam veteran is not homeless or disillusioned or suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. The statistics readily are available from the Department of Veterans Affairs, and this is what they reveal: Vietnam vets--people who actually served in combat in that war--are less likely to have psychiatric difficulties, drug problems, or have committed suicide (as well as having a higher median income) than people of comparable socioeconomic backgrounds who did not serve in Vietnam.

Neither the U.S. military nor the ordinary American's perception of the military has changed. What is different is Hollywood itself. During WWII, there was a spectacular war effort in Hollywood and a great enthusiasm among its elite--even the biggest stars--for serving their country. Jimmy Stewart, the number-two rated male movie star at the time, enlisted in 1942, flew 51 bombing missions with the Army Air Corps, and ended up a brigadier general. Henry Fonda rejected the proposal that he simply promote and sell war bonds, insisted on serving in combat, and was wounded in the Pacific. Such behavior was considered normal. This was America, after all, and Hollywood was part of America. Bringing this forward into the late 1950s, one of the great events of my childhood--and you have no idea what a sensation it created--was when the country's number-one pop star, a "kid named Elvis Presley, cheerfully interrupted his multimillion dollar career to be drafted into the Army.

It is hard even to imagine all of this today. Hollywood is a different world. For one thing, it is a much less populist institution. Clark Gable, before he became a movie star, was a truck driver. So was Presley. Movie people tended to come from humble backgrounds. By and large, Hollywood was not a place of upper class pretensions. It was a place that made movies for the entertainment of ordinary Americans. This is far from the case now.

Hollywood's elite

Part of what changed--and it was a change already under way prior to Vietnam--was Hollywood's transformation from a mass appeal industry to an elite institution. Many of the major stars today have an Ivy League background. A large number of them are second or third generation stars--people who have been born into the movie business and have lived in it their entire lives. So, the industry no longer is connected with the public in the way that it used to be. Certainly, very few of Tinseltown's luminaries have had any experience in, or contact with, the military. All of this is reflected in the new mission that Hollywood has adopted: not to entertain, but to challenge and discomfort the public.

It is not simply antipathy to the military that permeates Hollywood today. There is a broader anti-Americanism--an alienation from everything American--that runs very, very deep them. Listen to Sean Penn, speaking at a press conference at the Cannes Film Festival in 1991 when asked a question about his film "Indian Runner": "I don't think it scratches the surface of the rage that is felt, if not acted upon, by most of the people in the country where I live. I was brought up in a country that relished fear-based religion, corrupt government, and an entire white population living on stolen property that they murdered for and that is passed on from generation to generation."

Likewise, listen to Oliver Stone in 1987 upon receiving the Torch of Liberty Award from the American Civil Liberties Union: "Our own country has become a military industrial monolith, dedicated to the Cold War--in many ways, as rigid and corrupt at the top as our rivals, the Soviets. We have become the enemy with a security state now second to none. Today we have come to live in total hatred, fear, and the desire to destroy. Bravo. Fear and conformity have triumphed. This Darth-Vadian Empire of the United States must pay for its many sins in the future. I think America has to bleed. I think the corpses have to pile up. I think American boys have to die again. Let the mothers weep and mourn."

Is it any wonder that people who deliver statements like that also feel the need to trash the U.S. in film after film?

Let me make one final point--this one about the economics of the movie business today, which also is critical in understanding what has changed in the relationship between Hollywood and America. In 1970, more than 70% of all revenues for the major studios in Hollywood came from the U.S. Today, less than 30%. Hollywood has conquered the world. It sells huge amounts of movies and DVDs in France, Germany, italy, Japan and, increasingly, in China and India. While this has been occurring, the audience has collapsed here in the U.S. In 1965, 45,000,000 Americans attended the movies every week. Our population nearly has doubled since then, and yet the number of moviegoers per week is barely 20,000,000. In other words, the American film industry has become conspicuously less American. So, when war movies are produced at all, there is much less reflexive sympathy and support for the U.S. point of view.

The Black Book of Communism computed the number of corpses that communism had accumulated since the Russian Revolution in 1917. The total adds up to more than 100,000,000. The U.S. fought a life-and-death struggle against world communism between the end of WWII and the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. We won that war, thank God. Yet, Hollywood's continuing insistence on portraying the Vietnam War--which, along with the Korean War, was an integral part of that life-and-death struggle--as having taught us that all war is pointless is a way of ignoring the fact not only that Hollywood did not engage in that struggle against world communism, but that most people in the entertainment elite were on the wrong side of it. I say this with respect and with caution. I am not suggesting that most people in Hollywood were active communists, but I am suggesting that the anti-anti-communism that became so typical of Hollywood during the Cold War has led to its ongoing denial that the Cold War meant anything.

Can anyone think of a movie that has celebrated the U.S. victory in the Cold War? Probably most of us will think of "Miracle." Apparently Hollywood can face the fact that we beat the USSR in an Olympic hockey game, but not the fact that we overcame the Soviet Union politically--through attention to moral principles and through the maintenance of military superiority--because the entertainment elite is terribly invested in the idea that no war ever meant a blessed thing.

Michael Medved is a nationally syndicated radio talk show host, author of 10 books, and film critic. This article is adapted from a lecture given at Hillsdale (Mich.) College.

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