2 of 4

It's just too much for one film. Eastwood seems to understand this, so he focuses his attention on coverage of the battle and the PR tour, foregoing detailed portraits of the Marines.

And, with the help of producer Steven Spielberg, he delivers a galvanizing vision of the war, empowered by Tom Stern's fantastic cinematography and further innovations in the special effects that made Saving Private Ryan so memorable. The spectacle and sound design inspire awe even as they make us flinch and turn away from the screen. And the film's muted colors give it the feel of archival footage.

The famous moment is re-enacted in the film

Yet, while the re-creation is utterly convincing—an end-credit montage of archival war photos show us that Eastwood did his research—the characters get lost. The film might have worked better if it had focused on contrasting two of the Marines' experiences—the way Chariots of Fire juxtaposes the tales of two Olympians—or if it had been expanded into a miniseries to detail these lives more fully. The memorable biographies contained in Bradley's book are reduced to sketchy impressions here. The cast of talented young actors—especially Philippe, King Kong's Jamie Bell and Saving Private Ryan's Barry Pepper—do the best they can with characterizations that border on the bland. Eastwood takes us deep into the thick of the battle, but not far enough into the lives of the characters fighting it.

The only character who really comes to life is Ira Hayes, a Native American, formerly portrayed by Tony Curtis in 1961's The Outsider. During the tour, Hayes suffers derision and persecution at home for his ethnicity, easily inspiring our sympathy. But we get more than his bouts of misery and drunkenness; we get glimpses of his confusion at being an Indian and an American hero, and some saddening pictures of his life after the war. Adam Beach (Windtalkers) gives Hayes dimension, and it may be enough to earn him some acting honors.

On the other hand, some of the peripheral characters are little more than annoying caricatures, the most grating of which is Pauline (Melanie Lynskey), Gagnon's spotlight-seeking fiancée.

The film's other weakness is its structure. Penned by William Broyles Jr. and Paul Haggis, the script constantly yanks us from the maelstrom of bullets and blood, to the troubling public relations tour back home, to the veterans' present-day storytelling, and back again. In doing so, it keeps the viewers constantly off-balance. And after a while, it seems like the sequences are spelling out redundant, and obvious, points.

Director Clint Eastwood on the set

"The right picture can win or lose a war," says the veteran. Will Eastwood's picture have lasting significance? Many war films have shown us that "war is hell," but the greatest—films like All Quiet on the Western Front, Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket, Grave of the Fireflies, Saving Private Ryan, and The Thin Red Line—tell memorable stories through the eyes of unique and unforgettable characters. It's unlikely that Flags will be ranked among the great films about combat.

It is likely to be remembered instead for its nagging questions about the ethical compromises that often seem necessary in order to reinforce a nation during wartime. Like The Manchurian Candidate, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and Three Kings, Eastwood's film might increase our reluctance to trust what our media and government tell us is happening. But it might also make us more patient and understanding if events are sensationalized for the greater good.

When the sequel—Letters from Iwo Jima—opens in February, Eastwood will show us the same battle through the eyes of the island's Japanese defenders. When we can compare and contrast the two films, we may discover that they cohere into a monumental cinematic achievement and a profound meditation on war, virtue, and human nature.

next page... |  2 of 4