Wrapping up the 2001 year at the movies, Squibbles, Yvette and I took in Black Hawk Down, a film chronicling a US special forces mission in Somalia in 1993. Originally scheduled for release in March of this year, the studio decided to try and capitalize on the recent peak of patriotism in the States and moved it to January.
They also did something else unusual for a war movie, and opened it in LA and New York for Oscar consideration. Having seen the movie now, I believe it truly raises the question “What makes a great movie, rather than just a great genre movie?”
There is no doubt that Black Hawk Down is a great war movie. Hell, with Ridley Scott directing (Blade Runner, Gladiator) and Jerry Bruckheimer producing (Top Gun, The Rock, Pearl Harbor), you were almost guaranteed a great war movie. After a brief 20-minute introduction to the situation in Somalia and the mission assigned to the soldiers, you are thrown right into the middle of war. Not as a spectator, but as a participant.
For the next two hours, your senses are assaulted by a barrage of automatic weapon fire, explosions, helicopters crashing and people dying, and you are right there along with them. This is no small feat of directing. Even Saving Private Ryan, which opens with one of the most incredible battle scenes ever put to film, never managed to draw you right into the fight — there was always that feeling of being a horrified observer.
Nor do you feel overwhelmed by flag-waving patriotism. The film certainly chronicles some moments of true bravery and heroism, but the entire mission was a disaster, and the movie pulls no punches there either. The efforts to retrieve two top henchmen of a Somali warlord quickly turns ugly when one of their Black Hawk helicopters gets shot down. This small group of soldiers was grossly outnumbered and seriously got their asses kicked all over the screen.
Filmed in Morocco, in and around a US military base, the movie maintains its’ gritty third-world feel, and I’m certain Bruckheimer used *every* last ounce of pull he had to get the US government to lend four real Black Hawk helicopters to the production, and I’m certain that much of the cool technology we see on display was also straight from Uncle Sam’s storehouses.
Yet despite all the attention to detail, despite creating an incredibly intense movie-going experience, I still can’t bring myself to call it a great movie. A truly great movie would have done everything above, and still managed to teach me about the conflict in Somalia. A truly great movie would have made me care about at least a few of the men who risked, and lost, their lives, rather than assuming I would empathize with them just because they are soldiers. Quite simply, the movie lacked the heart it needed to be elevated to the next level of greatness.
Then again, with the level of mediocrity in Hollywood these days, just being a great type of movie is still an impressive accomplishment.
Rating: Front-row seats at a Def Leppard concert, 7/10