Lions For Lambs

I completely DISagree with the rather hollow review above. First, the reviewer states that it is the fourth of many “war on Iraq”-type films to come, and from there carries his/her annoyance of the subject manner to the end of the so-called review.

I was fortunate enough to catch a sneak-preview of it, and from the moment it began, I was captivated. Each of the main characters played a vital role in the movie, as they each represented an important perspective. Tom Cruise’s character (Politician) strategically fought to win over Meryll Streep’s (journalist) stance against the war. She struggled to deal with her own understanding of the truth in conjunction with the choices she’s made in her own life.

Redford (Professor) completely connects to your soul with every word that comes out of his mouth as he attempts to win over his slacking student’s battle from apathy.

The soldier section of the story just fires up the action with life and death and is well played out.

This movie does not need fancy sets and explosions, because it is well-written, followed through with top-notch acting. Believe me, I am a tough critic.
The three stories transition smoothly back and forth from each other with intelligent, original dialogue and before you know it the movies done and it feels like thirty minutes (It’s 1 hour 28 min). If you possess both a brain and a heart this movie will move and shake you into action. As it does present you with the argument, it does leave it up to the viewer to make the decision, and eventually the action.

This movie is charged, assertive, inspiring and fuses a sense of purpose into our currently hazy, blind society.

Watch this movie. Get inspired. Do something.

A-

mullah cimoc say ameriki need google: mighty wurltizer +cia

then to asking why usa control media try to suppress attendance of anti war movie. A: so the other creator persons not to make the anti war movie too.

this all part of mighty wurlitzer operation. now so sad to see ameriki, him woman the lesbian hate the man, him daughter the slut take the LBT (low back tattoo)and him son the gay homosexual of aid sick.

Who are you exactly to criticize our intro paragraphs? Theme and plot should be summarized in the next couple of paragraphs after the intro. The intro should grab the readers and let them know your general opinion. That way, they can stop reading if they don’t want to read the whole review.

this is insultable

Nate: My point is that it doesn’t matter who I am, or who Robert Redford is, or what anybody thinks of anybody or their work… what matters is what is in the film, or the review, and what you can say about it.

And, you are certainly right that almost every intro proceeds exactly as yours, just as you have described it. .. it must be some sort of flocking phenomenon.

But, at the risk of sending too much text in this comment, I’ve included my review of the review of Derek Elley from Variety. He does the same thing you and Kevin do: spouts his opinions … which I don’t care to know … and fails to say anything that will increase my understanding or appreciation of the film. He doesn’t have to say things I agree with, just something significant about the film.

(I’ve pasted Elley’s review below my comment here: )

“Talky, back-bendingly liberal but also deeply patriotic, “Lions for Lambs” plays like…”

How about if I start out my review of your review with something like this:

“Wordy, fascistic and outrageously traitorous, Derek Elley reveals…”

You’ve said nothing about the film. Why not talk about the film? Why not say something about the substance, and not your opinion on your perception of where the film might fit into the political landscape? Why not talk about the film? I don’t need your opinion on whether there is too little or too much dialogue in the film. Why not say something about the content of the dialog?

“…it becomes increasingly evident that each yarn exists in its own, very specific frame of reference, with no real human drama to buttress the moral-political conflict.”

OK, that’s better. But it is difficult to imagine how a person could make an observation so patently wrong and so unsubstantiated. Did you really watch the film? Each “yarn” in its own frame of reference? No real human drama? How about this for disproving your claim that there is no connection between the frames:

The senator, seeking to save his country from disgraceful and dangerous defeat is “selling” a new strategy in the Afghan war to a journalist who is passionately trying to prevent another politically motivated military screw-up from destroying the lives of more American youth. In the next frame we get to meet two such young Americans, and we watch, almost before the words are out the senator’s lips, as they pay with their lives for flaws in the plan. No connection between the frames?

But this isn’t just a bumper sticker for “War is Unhealthy for Children & Other Living Things”. New frame: prestigious California college. We get to see what these students are made of. They are not victims, they have chosen to fight in the war when they could easily have avoided it. What motivated their decision? In the dialog between Professor Malley and student Hayes, our eyes are opened to the the circumstances and the motivations of the students. No connection between the frames?

On the mountain top the students, now soldiers, stand up and take full responsibility … and pay the ultimate price… for their decisions, while the U.S. military scrambles desperately to recover from its tactical mistake, and fails by seconds. No human drama?

Finally, why have all the critics failed to notice that there are not three strands in this movie, but four. The journalist is shaken by the persuasiveness of the senator’s pitch, which clearly touched her deeply with his claim that the media must share the blame for past failure: she practically confesses that she knew the moment in her own career when she sold out to the corporation. But she returns to the offices of the corporate media and decides not to buy it, to mount a major media “counter-offensive” to the senator’s plan, only to discover that her boss won’t support her, and that she may be risking the loss of her career of 40 years if she intends to stick to her guns. Could her plan fail? Is she willing to accept the responsibility for that decision? No connection between the frames? No human drama?

“All three avenues[sic], however, lead nowhere in particular. The first moves from the gung-ho through military bungling to personal, useless sacrifice; the second through point-by-point confrontation to ultimate resignation; and the third ends vaguely, with only a glimmer of hope.”

The only way I can understand this comment is to assume that you had taken a seat in the wrong theater and were watching “Silence of the Lambs” rather than “Lions for Lambs”. An understandable mistake, perhaps.

“The first moves from the gung-ho through military bungling to personal, useless sacrifice…”

“Gung-ho” to describe the eloquent statement of the “solution” by the senator? If political spin is your only objective, perhaps. “Military bungling” to describe a tactical failure in a single mission, which came within seconds of success? Same thing. But “personal, useless sacrifice” to describe the courage, strength and faith of the American soldiers, after we have just witnessed the whole story of their lives, their commitment, and their belief in their ability to build a better world? I’d call that treasonous, but that would be melodramatic, so I’ll just say, perhaps you should try to connect the frames. You might just see a glimmer of human drama there.

“the second through point-by-point confrontation to ultimate resignation…”

I confess I’ll have to make wild guesses here as to what you meant by “ultimate resignation”. I don’t think you meant that the loss of the two American soldiers would mean defeat for the senator or the U.S. military. Did you mean the journalist was resigned to accept the senator’s plan? But the journalist clearly was not resigned to accept the senator’s plan, for she intended to spin it exactly opposite to the senator’s intention. Did you mean that she would have to resign her position, and thereby lose her livelihood for her principles? Perhaps, but that was part of the genius of the film, because that decision was not depicted on screen, and frankly, I don’t think the film even suggested which way that would go. It was more like a question to the audience: What would you do? (Or would you do nothing… maybe just go watch a different film.)

“…and the third ends vaguely, with only a glimmer of hope.”

For someone who sees the frames of reference as connected, the point might not be to see a clear cut resolution of all uncertainty in each frame, but to allow each frame to illuminate the other frames, and thereby raise our understanding of — and respect for — the entire situation. The dialog between the professor and the student takes us away from the military tactics and the rhetoric of politics and media (who’s liberal? who’s conservative? who’s a traitor? who’s a hero?), but serves to fill out those frames with real human choices, real human potential, aspirations, and consequences. In short, real human drama, which might not always end in win or lose, A or F, rich or poor, life or death.

As for the hope, I think once again this is a measure of the genius of the film, because instead of telling the audience how things will turn out, the film simply enhances the grandeur of all the choices involved, and then leaves it up to the audience to rise to the occasion and take responsibility for the great decisions… or walk away with hardly a glimmer of hope.

Personally, I think this film should receive the Academy Award for Best Picture of 2007. And so I humbly suggest that you should return to the theater, and this time, find the film: “Lions For Lambs”.

Frank Lee Goodwins
oloren1@fastmail.fm

Posted: Mon., Oct. 22, 2007, 6:23pm PTLondon
Lions for Lambs
By DEREK ELLEYAn MGM release of a United Artists presentation of a Wildwood Enterprises, Brat Na Pont Prods., Andell Entertainment production. Produced by Robert Redford, Matthew Michael Carnahan, Andrew Hauptman, Tracy Falco. Executive producer, Daniel Lupi. Directed by Robert Redford. Screenplay, Matthew Michael Carnahan.

Dr. Stephen Malley - Robert Redford
Janine Roth - Meryl Streep
Sen. Jasper Irving - Tom Cruise
Ernest Rodriguez - Michael Pena
Todd Hayes - Andrew Garfield
Wirey Pink - Peter Berg
Howard - Kevin Dunn
Arian Finch - Derek Luke

Talky, back-bendingly liberal but also deeply patriotic, “Lions for Lambs” plays like all the serious footnotes scripter du jour Matthew Michael Carnahan left out of “The Kingdom.” Robert Redford’s first helming chore in seven years, and his most directly political pic yet, amounts to a giant cry of “Americans, get engaged!” wrapped in a star-heavy discourse that uses a lot of words to say nothing new. Apart from the curio value of Redford, Meryl Streep and Tom Cruise headlining the movie equivalent of an Off Broadway play, this first outing by newly resurgent UA doesn’t look likely to roar its way to significant B.O. gains.
Schematic idea sounds bold on paper: three separate events, played out roughly in real screen time across three separate timezones, with each potentially cross-fertilizing the others. Problem is, as the cross-cutting proceeds, it becomes increasingly evident that each yarn exists in its own, very specific frame of reference, with no real human drama to buttress the moral-political conflict.

In Washington, D.C., veteran TV journo Janine Roth (Streep) arrives for a one-on-one interview with Republican young gun Sen. Jasper Irving (Cruise), who has an exclusive to feed her for his own purposes. Meanwhile, earlier that same morning at “a California university,” Todd Hayes (Andrew Garfield), a student who’s been skipping class, gets dressed down by his professor, Dr. Stephen Malley (Redford). Concurrently, a small force of U.S. soldiers is airlifted to a strategic mountainous location in the Afghan mountains to head off the Taliban.

In the early stages, the three strands are cleverly linked. Irving tells Roth the administration has a “new plan” to resolve the deadlock in Afghanistan: sending small groups to secure advance positions ahead of the spring thaw. When Roth asks when this will be implemented, Irving replies, “Ten minutes ago.”

Two of the grunts in the first group, Ernest Rodriguez (Michael Pena) and Arian Finch (Derek Luke), are former students of Malley’s. To try to break through Hayes’ lackadaisical attitude toward his studies and life in general, Malley tells Hayes the story of Rodriguez and Finch, both of whom enlisted in the military as a way to engage in their country’s foreign problems rather than just sit back and take the high ground.

In addressing the issue of the U.S. role as both world policeman and a credible force for good, Carnahan’s screenplay thus takes three clearly defined avenues of approach: the practical (Rodriguez-Finch), the political (Irving-Roth) and the philosophical (Malley-Hayes). All three avenues, however, lead nowhere in particular. The first moves from the gung-ho through military bungling to personal, useless sacrifice; the second through point-by-point confrontation to ultimate resignation; and the third ends vaguely, with only a glimmer of hope.

Most engrossing moments are generated by the political tennis match between the young senator and the cynical reporter. Both thesps are perfectly cast and at the top of their game, with Cruise believably incarnating a Young Turk who believes America’s credibility (as “a force of righteousness”) is now at stake, while Streep’s veteran journo is more interested in digging up past mistakes and Middle Eastern history.

The to-and-fro of their political debate gives both actors a fine workout, and plays to the strengths of their screen personas. But as Carnahan’s script dutifully checks off the issues, it becomes clear the discourse is leading nowhere, and is merely a rerun of arguments already extensively aired by media around the world. Roth has no new arguments to propose, and Irving’s only solution is more positive action.

Meanwhile, back in California, the talk is turning even fuzzier. Faced with Hayes’ continuing skepticism-cum-lack of interest in his country’s politics, Malley finally rounds on him with, “Rome is burning.” “So you’re saying it’s better to try and fail than do nothing?” asks Hayes. “At least you (can say you) did something,” replies Malley. Well, yeah.

With almost no character backgrounding beyond repping various schools of thought, the actors largely get by on screen charisma. Cruise and Streep generate the most sparks; Redford brings a relaxed, slightly supercilious, elder-statesman aura to the role of the mature academic; and young Brit actor Garfield is convincing as an unengaged SoCal student, though his character remains enigmatic to the end.

Production values are fine. Philippe Rousselot’s widescreen lensing and Jan Roelfs’ production design manage distinctive looks for the three strands, from the burnished, formal interiors of Irving’s office and the sunnier, relaxed campus quarters to the grit and snow of an Afghan mountaintop. Mark Isham’s score is low-key until the muddled finale of the military strand, when it slips into unseemly (and inexplicable) patriotic bombast.

As if to underline the symbiotic link between Carnahan’s two scripts, “The Kingdom” helmer Peter Berg pops up here in a supporting role.

I would like to preface my comment by stating that I am not an American. But I am not an America-hater either (as a huge section of the world seems to have become due to its war-mongering policies). I would also like to add that I’m a great fan of Hollywood films and have marveled at the way they often manage to transform the silliest of themes into sublime movie experiences. Not always perhaps. But pretty much most of the time. Again, Hollywood has made some great movies on current political hot-potatoes of topics. And in that context I thought Lions for Lambs was a brilliant effort. It totally captivated me by exploring a difficult subject and infusing it with so much passion and intellect. Yes, perhaps it was “talky” but to dismiss it completely the way the critic has done is not just unfair but deprives many would-be interested film goers in watching a movie that is way above the average Hollywood flick. It resonates at both the emotional and intellectual levels - a feat that is commendable and all kudos to the screenwriter. As for Goodwin’s review of the “critic’s review”, that was simply riveting - just as the movie was. I think America needs to show the world through its movies that it’s not the heartless/war mongering/carpet-bombing-happy nation that it is perceived to be, but a nation of thinkers and doers. Long live Hollywood!