FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS, based on the book of the same name by James Bradley and Ron Powers, begins with the line “Every jackass thinks he knows what war is, especially those who have never been in one.” That may or may not be a swipe at the current administration, but it is definitely the perfect keynote for what is to follow. It recounts the true story of Bradley’s father, John, and the truth surrounding the iconic photo of the flag-raising on Iwo Jima late in World War II, as well as its unexpected impact on the men who took part in it, and the war effort as a whole.
The photo stirred the imagination of a public weary of 4 ½ years of way, prompting the government to send the surviving soldiers on a tour to capitalize on that stirring and turn it into the badly need sale of war bonds to finance the war effort. Each of the men handles it in different way, Ira Hayes (Adam Beach), the Native American whose story is the tragedy of the piece, suffers survivor guilt as well as the post-traumatic stress syndrome resulting from what he saw and did during the battle. Rene Gagnon (Jesse Bradford), dubbed the Tyrone Powers of his unit, throws himself into the role of hero even though he never fired a shot, and Bradley himself, a corpsman, is just as heroic handing the nonsense asked of them, such as scaling a papier mache mountain to recreate the photos at a baseball game, as he was providing first aid during the fighting. Their flashbacks have a clinical feel, as in a firecracker prompting their sensation as well as memory of being in the midst of gunfire, as well as a more poignant reminder of both the surreal carnival atmosphere in which they have been thrust, and the reason that they are doing it. The story unfolds a la CITIZEN KANE with John, now an old man, at death’s door, prompting his son, James, (Thomas McCarthy) to research what his father had never spoken about by interviewing the people who had known his father during the war. What unfolds in an elegant back and forth between witnesses in the present, the battle of Iwo Jima itself, and the celebrity tour in which his father took part.
Cynicism and human tragedy both in the service of the greater good make for an interesting dynamic. The most heart wrenching moment, though, isn’t Hayes’ drowning his grief in a bottle, grievous as it is, it’s a mother (Judith Ivey) picking up the newspaper that, like so many others, has that photo on the front page. She looks at it, and even though there are no faces visible, she identifies her son as one of the six pictured there. She’s right, even though her family thinks she’s wrong, and unfortunately the government was haphazard in getting the names, thereby identifying her son, as someone else, who was also there and who also raised a flag, just not that one. Wanting to avoid a public relations disaster, even when the mistake is proven beyond any doubt, no official correction is forthcoming.
As for the battle itself, it’s depicted with the same gritty, monochromatic look of the D-Day landing of co-executive producer Steven Spielberg’s SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, a coincidence that may or may not be intentional, though it is just as effective here as it was in that earlier film, sticking with the chaos, the shouting, the scattered body parts and the eeriness of not seeing the enemy right away, only their perspective as they draw a bead on the American troops making their way onto land and up the beach. There is also not just the sight of blood and guts, but the subtle but awful sound of them being spilled. It makes a later banquent scene where a waiter pours strawberry sauce over an ice cream sculpture of the photograph unspeakably obscene. The scenes back home have a similar Spielbergian touch, with the hand-tinted quality of vintage photographs, distinguishing them from the scenes in the present which have the honey-tinted glow of nostalgia.
There are no real villains here, even the politician who demands the first flag raised on Iwo Jima as a trophy for himself, prompting the second flag raising and the picture that rallied the folks back home and see everything into motion for the three media-created heroes, maybe just the bartender who refuses to serve Hayes because of the rule at his establishment against serving Indians. Or maybe the public that needs hype to keep its interest piqued. It’s the right approach, but Eastwood has stripped much emotion from the film, mimicking the laconic, self-effacing heroism of the troops he seeks to honor, and his approach is not without merit, respectful without being reverent. Ultimately, though, it’s a fine piece of craftsmanship, well put together and boasting good performances, it’s just not as moving as it should be.
Click here to listen to the interview with Thomas McCarthy for THE STATION AGENT, which he wrote and directed (21:10).
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