A picture may be worth a thousand words, but in the case of the iconic flag-raising on the summit of Mount Suribachi on the Japanese island of Iwo Jima, a single photograph inspired countless postcards, monuments, movies and, in Clint Eastwood’s new film Flags of Our Fathers, a shameless publicity tour that embarrasses idealized notions of heroism and bravery.
Eastwood’s film depicts the bloody battle (one of America’s costliest in World War Two) and examines the full effect of American capitalism on the unwitting marines immortalized by AP photographer Joe Rosenthal. Of the six men seen in the Pulitzer Prize winning photo, only three made it off the volcanic island alive.
Those lucky three are quickly ushered out of the war, elevated to instant celebrity status, and conscripted into hawking war bonds and John Wayne flicks to a newly inspired nation. The unlikely trio are thrown on tour like movie stars on a press junket. Following the three, we find that media-savvy Rene Gagnon (Jesse Bradford), guilt-ridden native-American Ira Hayes (Adam Beach), and John ‘Doc’ Bradley (Ryan Phillipe), whose son the co-authored the novel on which the film is based, all respond differently to their unexpected and ultimately unwanted fame.
The boys are paraded through train stations, sporting events, hotels, banquets, and even private homes while the ceaseless thunder of applause begins to confuse their already shell-shocked moral centres. They are treated like heroes simply for changing a flag (the first American flag raised on Mount Suribachi was considered too small, and was being replaced when Rosenthal took the iconic shot) while countless numbers of their comrades continue to sacrifice themselves on the front lines.
This is particularly taxing on Ira, who is constantly the butt of racist jokes referencing his purported prowess with a tomahawk while storming the beach at Iwo Jima. Additionally, he has trouble dealing with his role as a “hero” on the comical promotional campaign because he is haunted by the memory of Sergeant Michael Strack, one of the flag raisers, who was later killed by friendly fire.
Barry Pepper, who plays Sergeant Strank, was in town last week to promote the film, which is ironic since his character is denied that sort of glory in the film. Pepper is no stranger to acting in uniform, whether as a cop (Three Burials of Melquidas Estrada), federal agent (Enemy of the State), or soldier (We Were Soldiers). However, he is likely best known for his role as the bible-quoting sniper in Steven Spielberg’s epic Saving Private Ryan.
A hardened veteran of war films, Pepper was drafted into a commanding role by the other actors, “They just came to me if there was any problem with their weapons or their gear” he noted casually. He insisted that this was due to the fact that everyone was encouraged to remain in character while on set. “Ryan played the doctor, so we called him ‘Doc’, and they called me ‘Sarge’, and, you know, we would go to Ryan for band-aids.”
Pepper’s intense eyes and chiseled jaw allow him to easily adopt the look of a seasoned soldier or a cop, but when asked about the prospect of being typecast he was quick to refute the idea.
“I think if I just looked like a cop, or could just do the cop part, or the soldier part, I wouldn’t get the role. There is so much more contained in the arc of those characters. If you don’t have the right sensibilities to play a character that takes a journey . . . then you’re just a prototypical cop or prototypical soldier that we’ve seen in every movie, and that’s horrible.”
Pepper’s assertion that his acting ability trumps his convenient appearance is probably accurate, considering that he was cast by producer Steven Spielberg, to whom he attributes the proverb “hire the best, and stay out of their way.” Pepper compares Spielberg’s faith in his actors to that of Eastwood’s in directing this film noting that “they’re very sensitive to the narcissistic or neurotic minds of the actor. Clint Eastwood directs how he likes to be directed as an actor, very minimalist, hands off, and un-intrusive.”
Adapted by two screenwriters (one of whom is the prolific Paul Haggis who authored Crash), from a novel that also had two co-authors, the film suffers from having multiple loud voices that keep reshaping its overall structure. Interest really begins to flag with the melodramatic, Kleenex-coaxing final scene that centres on the novel’s co-author John Bradley.
Meanwhile, nuggets of interesting observations in Flags-particularly during the surreal home-front campaign-are obstructed by the screenplay’s tired anti-war message, one that has been on a constant parade of its own as of late.
Rating: VVV
