Director Kathryn Bigelow's latest is a cinematic tour de force, but one open to moral questioning.
Khobar, Saudi Arabia, May 29, 2004: A terrorist faction affiliated with al-Qaeda attacks two oil installations, killing 19 foreigners and 3 locals.
London, July 7, 2005: Four suicide bombers blow themselves up on public transit during rush hour, killing 52 civilians.
Islamabad, September 20, 2008: A dump truck laden with explosives detonates in front of the Marriott Hotel, killing at least 54.
Khost, Afghanistan, December 30, 2009: A suicide attack against Forward Operating Base Chapman kills 9, including 7 members of the CIA.
For all the political talk of the War on Terror, it's a war that remains largely an abstraction in post-9/11 America, with long periods of relative silence punctuated by occasional news of a terrorist attack overseas. Zero Dark Thirty, the stunning new film by director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal, has been widely, and accurately, described as a "procedural," an intercontinental detective story about the hunt for Osama bin Laden. But it is also an unconventional war movie about an unconventional war, one in which those on the front lines are not principally soldiers and marines, but intelligence analysts and operatives. For them, the war is not a series of loosely connected news events, but a daily, agonizing reality.
It is already difficult to discuss Zero Dark Thirty without discussing its attendant controversies, and I won't try. But before wading into these, let me say that, judged purely on cinematic grounds, Zero Dark Thirty is a tour de force, and the best film of the year. Bigelow and Boal's prior collaboration, The Hurt Locker, was extraordinary in its execution but relatively narrow in its ambitions, a series of snapshots from a life lived at unthinkable extremes. With Zero Dark Thirty, the filmmakers bring the same meticulous eye and sense of harrowing immediacy to a story of vastly greater scope.
At the center of the film is Maya (Jessica Chastain), a young CIA analyst of undisguised talent and obstinacy. We first meet her in 2003, when a veteran interrogator named Dan (Jason Clarke) introduces her to the savage realities of the Agency's detainee program. "When you lie to me," he tells Ammar (Reda Kateb), a captive with possible links to al Qaeda, "I hurt you." It's a promise fulfilled with the now all-too-familiar litany of brutal techniques: beatings, waterboarding, stress positions, extremes of cold and dark, sexual humiliation, sleep deprivation, mind games. "It's gonna take a while," Dan explains to Maya. "He has to learn how helpless he is."
Eventually Ammar produces a name, Abu Ahmed al-Kuwaiti, and the film enters its long second act, its procedural phase, in which leads are followed, lost, and rediscovered. Maya (a character based on a genuine CIA analyst whose identity remains classified) is convinced that Abu Ahmed is a courier with direct ties to bin Laden. But her superiors are unpersuaded, and her consequent insubordinations become progressively more explicit. Years tick by, as the story winds it way through Islamabad and Kuwait City, through Langley, Virginia and a "black site" in Gdansk, Poland.
Zero Dark Thirty unlike so many other offerings of this holiday season, earns every minute of its two-and-a-half-hour-plus running time.
Until May 2, 2011, when Maya's tenacious conviction is vindicated in a walled compound in Abbottabad. Here, in the movie's final act, Bigelow dramatizes the bin Laden raid with all the meticulous care of the Seal Team 6 squad that preceded her: muffled Blackhawks thrum across the Khyber Pass; night vision paints the blackness a queasy green; explosives are set, shots fired, and blood spilled.
Zero Dark Thirty is, like the story it chronicles, a sprawling enterprise—one that, unlike so many other offerings of this holiday season, earns every minute of its two-and-a-half-hour-plus running time. The large cast encompasses Jennifer Ehle, Kyle Chandler, Mark Strong, Joel Edgerton, Chris Pratt, Harold Perrineau, Edgar Ramirez, James Gandolfini, and too many others to catalog. As Dan, the ambivalent interrogator, the Australian-born Clarke is particularly notable, building on the work he did earlier this year in Lawless.