When was the last time Brad Pitt
(By the Sea, Fury) gave a performance that didn't
resemble an alien trying to control a human host?
That's the question I posed on Twitter shortly after screening
War Machine on Netflix, where it debuted, as Pitt labors to
look remotely credible as a seasoned, grizzled general controlling the
forces in Afghanistan in 2009, at a time when things aren't so
great for the US military presence (technically NATO), as well as the
PR campaign. He sure gives it a try,
with idiosyncratic mannerisms, a gravely voice, lets his hair go gray, and
lots of alteration of his physical stature and gait, but the further
he removes himself from his own natural bent, the further he also
moves away from the kind of person we could ever envision playing the
lynchpin role in such a heady satire.
Not that this leading man hasn't been able to deliver character
performances in films before, such as very good ones in such films as
12 Monkeys,
Snatch, True Romance, and Kalifornia,
but those films exploited his penchant for being slightly off-kilter
in his demeanor and mannerisms. War Machine asks us to
believe that he'd be the kind of man that a president would entrust to
lead and inspire the ground troops, and to win over the Afghani people
despite constant strikes, in a major controversial theater of battle.
This also makes him the main focus of the media, and just two minutes
with Pitt's General Glen McMahon (the name of Gen. Stanley McChrystal
changed for the film) would have anyone questioning why on Earth the
guy is a general, much less given the one of the highest profile
positions in the military in a time when the war in Afghanistan is at
its most unpopular at home.
Alas, it's a major reason why War Machine never gets off of
the ground as a satire, taking its story, quite loosely, from the
Michael Hastings book, "The Operators". Utilizing narration from
Scoot McNairy (Batman v Superman),
who shows up a good way into the film as Sean Cullen, a journalist
working for Rolling Stone magazine (a fictional stand-in Michael
Hastings), mostly to keep the story together, though, to a large
degree, it is rather an unnecessary device given the scope stays
fairly simple, sticking mostly with McMahon's interactions with his
lackeys and advisors (a veritable who's who of stars from 1980s films,
like Anthony Michael Hall (Foxcatcher),
Meg Tilly (Agnes of God),
Griffin Dunne (Dallas Buyers Club),
and Alan Ruck (Ghost Town)).
We watch him get annoyed, primarily at President Obama for not only
mentioning that they plan to pull out within 18 months, which McMahon
feels will demoralize his troops into believing they can't win, but also
wants to do what they say can't, or shouldn't, be done, in capturing
Taliban strongholds that don't really give them any military advantage to
secure.
Of course, we all know that the war would not end in 2010, as it still
rages on to the time of this writing, sixteen years and running, and
shows no signs of ceasing any time soon. Perhaps the reasons why
that is would be more interesting to delve into than the subject
matter of McMahon's beginnings, but that's not the film we have here
from Australian writer-director David Michod (The
Rover, Animal Kingdom). The writing and direction from
Michod are fine from a technical standpoint, but the tone is uneven
and the film never generates the tension necessary to make for a good
wartime yarn. As such, it's an experience that offers a few
interesting, amusing, pithy, or poignant scenes, but not enough of
them flow together to make the otherwise dull and goofy War
Machine a satisfying whole for those looking for the next great
absurdist war parody.
Qwipster's rating:
©2017 Vince Leo
