“American Sniper” is a more complex film than many are giving it credit for, and that assessment applies to both its fans and detractors.
“American Sniper” dramatizes the life of Kyle Smith, (played by Bradley Cooper,) a NAVY Seal who amassed the highest kill county of any American sniper in the battlefield, and who was murdered by a troubled veteran after trying to shift to civilian life while still helping his fellow combatants. The film portrays an individual carrying an enormous burden – trying to balance his responsibility to both country and family – at a combustible intersection of history and politics. The liberal/conservative schism many would and have used in defining the film betrays director Clint Eastwood’s own purpose and clarity.
A key word in the previous paragraph was “dramatizing.”
Much like “Selma,” “American Sniper” takes licenses with some of the details of the material at hand, as all historical recreations must. While the reasons for and particularities of both films’ choices vary, Eastwood’s approach clearly establishes his interpretation of Kyle Smith as one less concerned with representing his life than simply a life. Cooper – stoic, reserved, and locked within himself from the mental scars of battle – suggests Eastwood’s own cowboy persona, and “American Sniper” is as much about American wars and war heroes as it is our collective understanding of our own legacy of violence.
Such as it is, the real Smith may or may not have felt the same torment Cooper portrays him as having (the opening sequence perfectly distills the mortal and moral terror of the fog of war), and nor does the script or filmmaking style come down as either in support or as being critical of the war in Iraq. Without clutter, it acknowledges the reality, and while the refusal to comment on the politics within the story is frustrating in part, the blunt representation of this chapter of history actually benefits the film’s more broad-reaching aim of painting a specific worldview.
Where many have faulted the film is in its presentation of battle, presumably glorifying war. The filmmaking chops of Eastwood are unquestionable, and are particularly noticeable in the film’s action sequences. The second of Eastwood’s 2014 productions (after “Jersey Boys,” this film was completed in roughly six months), “Sniper” is efficient, even machine-like, not unlike its central character, with such paralleling qualities between form and content exquisitely complicating the dramatic terrain. This simplicity suggests something everyday, lived-in, and sincere in its deliberation, and to these eyes, Eastwood’s cautious consideration extends to his violence, which is bloody, but not celebratory.
The climactic showdown is an especially assured bit of action filmmaking, and whether someone comes away from it finding the film pro-war, anti-war, or neither is very much up to individual interpretation. In asking more questions than it answers, it becomes an audience litmus test, suggesting Eastwood’s more restrained response to Martin Scorsese’s similarly Rorschach-like inquiry into American values, “The Wolf of Wall Street.”
The key to the film’s success, above all, is Cooper’s performance, which walks the fine line of portraying someone who is dangerous, but not malicious, and whose determination and lack of self-doubt are not necessarily character flaws. Taya, Sienna Miller is also excellent as his wife Taya, particularly in portraying her character’s frustration with Chris’s absence from his family and refusal to accept at face value his reasoning that he is fighting to protect them. Both are given true moments of ambiguity, fear, and uncertainty. Such as it is, the story is resolved with a real-life ending that’s decidedly anti-Hollywood. The film is heartfelt, grounded, modest, and imperfect, and perhaps more meaningful for it.
“American Sniper” is now playing in theaters nationwide.
Robert Humanick is a contributing writer for slantmagazine.com. Follow Rob on Twitter @rhumanick
