(narrator) The War on Terror is the longest running, most costly military campaign
in American history.
Fallout from the series of wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan has radiated throughout the globe
in a truly international affair.
(George W. Bush) “We are supported by the collective will of the world.”
(narrator) But if the War on Terror is a defining political event and cinema is a major artistic medium,
then we would probably expect that several important films of the last decade
would center around it.
This leaves us wondering, “Why aren’t there any good War on Terror movies?”
(music playing)
As long as there have been feature films, there have been war movies.
D.W. Griffith’s groundbreaking, racist 1915 spectacle The Birth of a Nation, not only established
many of the rules and conventions of modern filmmaking, it also laid the groundwork for
one of cinema’s most established genres: the war film.
Over the last century, several war pictures have stood out as some of cinema’s finest,
but the tradition seems to have stalled with America’s current conflict.
Unlike the Vietnam War or WWII, the War on Terror has little to show in way of canonical films
Maybe the problem with modern war is how undefined it is.
The 9/11 attack on the Twin Towers, like Pearl Harbor, fosters a narrative of American resilience
and ability to overcome.
But unlike our WWII engagements in response to Pearl Harbor, it’s not so obvious who
are the saviors in the War on Terror.
In WWII, Americans freed insurgents in France.
Now they fight them in Iraq.
To understand the importance of confusion surrounding America’s role in the war on
terror, it’s worth bringing up theories of social narratives and how they impact the arts.
In 1979, French Philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard expounded his theory of
grand or meta-narratives.
The Greek prefix “meta” means about or beyond.
Metanarratives are narratives about narratives, or narratives beyond narratives.
This might at first sound confusing, but the concept of metanarratives
isn’t all that complicated.
At its simplest, a metanarrative is an overarching story or narrative we use to describe events,
particularly historical ones.
For instance, a metanarrative told about the history of the United States is usually one
of increasing freedoms for its citizens.
When children learn American history, they are presented with a story of human progress
as democracy spread across the continent.
The American revolution--
Manifest Destiny,
Emancipation
Women’s Suffrage
--these are generally highlighted points of the American narrative, and they are usually strung together
to paint a portrait of democratic progress.
Lyotard’s greater point was that metanarratives were disingenuous, and that when one takes
an honest look at the greater course of human history, they see more chaos and localized
events that contradict the metanarratives we use to describe them.
Whether or not metanarratives are an appropriate summary of human events, there’s no denying
their impact on how we look back at history.
And they are particularly present when we review major wars.
(reporter) “Treachery and incompetence have doomed the nation.”
(narrator) Every war in American history has a metanarrative describing the events of the war, the rationale,
and the results.
These metanarratives play a critical role in the cinema behind those wars, where
corresponding war films embody the metanarrative of that conflict.
Let’s take a look at America’s major wars, their metanarratives, and the classic films
centered around them.
After reviewing these films, we can take a closer look at the War on Terror and why the
conflict is problematic for cinema.
(music playing)
The metanarrative of the Civil War is an interesting one,
because though Emancipation is a critical point, the narrative usually focuses more
on the loss of the South than any victory by the North.
Take the two most notable Civil War pictures, Gone With the Wind and The Birth of a Nation.
Both focus on the tragedy and destruction of the South.
The Civil War marks America’s transition to a more inclusive nation,
(Lincoln) “That government of the people, by the people, for the people.”
(narrator) but when reevaluated, it’s the drama of brother vs brother or the images of burning
Atlanta that stick in our collective imaginations.
(music playing)
Whereas the Civil War at least had the abolition
of slavery to show for the tremendous loss of life, WWI was a conflict dozens of times
more devastating and almost no lasting positive impact.
The metanarrative of the first World War centers on the senseless waste of war.
Both sides of the conflict are generally equalized.
There are no good guys or bad guys.
(Paul Bäumer) “I tell you, I didn’t want to kill you.
I tried to keep you alive.”
(narrator) The good is humanity.
The bad is war.
Most WWI films are country agnostic.
All Quiet on Western Front takes place on the German side, while Wings, a film few years
earlier, involves an American pilot.
Neither film seeks to demonize the other side.
The true evil is war.
(music playing)
In stark contrast to the ambivalence of WWI,
the second World War is a conflict of clear differences.
The metanarrative of WWII pits the good allied powers against the evil Axis powers.
Losses were great, but the cause was greater.
In addition to the existential battle for the fate of the world, WWII created other
minor, supplemental narratives and tropes such as homefront melodramas.
Though different in nature, these films bolstered the grand narrative of the noble men at war,
as the country rallied together at home to play their part in the cause.
(music playing)
In the span of 20 years, the narrative shifted
and no longer were Americans the redeemers.
Instead, American troops were imperialist aggressors.
The overwhelming majority of films and literature about the Vietnam era focus on the unjustified
bloodshed of the war.
Whether it’s Apocalypse Now exploring “the horror”
(Kurtz) “...the horror”
(narrator) or Platoon highlighting the senseless tragedy,
Vietnam War cinema rarely has anything positive to say about the conflict.
In fact, the most notable film presenting America’s involvement in the war positively,
the panned John Wayne vehicle The Green Berets, serves as an example of just how wrong things
can go when filmmakers are out of touch with cultural metanarratives.
(music playing)
The Cold War is a unique war.
Besides proxy conflicts, the war passed without a direct shot fired between the primary belligerents.
More than a war of militaries, the conflict was one of ideas.
The war wasn’t about bullets fired, but about a bomb that could go off at any moment.
Naturally, a unique war led to unique films.
While many focused on the horror of mutual annihilation, one film embodies the absurdity
of the conflict above all.
Dr. Strangelove is the seminal picture of the era.
Not only did it understand the narrative behind the war, it also recognized the best way to
capture that narrative was through satire.
(President Muffley) “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here!
This is the War Room!”
(music playing)
(narrator) That leaves us with the War on Terror.
For almost two decades the conflict has continued, and cinema has little to show for it.
Hurt Locker won the Academy Award for Best Picture, but it’s more a character study
than a look at the war.
Besides, no one is running to call it a classic.
There’s the Kurdish picture Turtles Can Fly.
It’s a deeply moving look at post-Saddam Iraq, but the film is hardly known and it
will likely never reach a large enough audience to make a lasting impact.
And then there’s Team America.
The now cult classic took the route of Dr. Strangelove, turning the war on terror
into a farce.
(Guard) “Ah…
...dirka, dirka, dirka.”
(narrator) But it remains to be seen whether or not the War on Terror is a conflict
to be defined by satire.
This is the core problem with cinema concerning the War on Terror.
It’s hard to know what kind of film will live on since there is no clear metanarrative.
The culture has no story to understand the conflict by.
Why?
Maybe we just need more time.
After all, the war is ongoing with no end in sight.
(George W. Bush) “Our War on Terror begins with Al-Qaeda.
But it does not end there.
It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped,
and defeated.”
(narrator) Yet, even still, every major war had a major film released well before the two decades
that have passed with the War on Terror.
Maybe it's the nature of the war.
Forming a narrative is difficult when the particulars of the story are undefined.
Who are the enemies in the War on Terror?
What are the reasons for engagement?
What is each side trying to accomplish?
There’s not even a name for the group of conflicts.
Sure, we can use War on Terror, but that fails to capture how localized the conflicts of
Afghanistan, Syria and Iraq are.
There are overlapping factions, and military engagements in one country spill over to the other.
Allies quickly become enemies.
Military objectives change as quickly as the sands of the Middle East shift.
But if ambiguity and uncertainty are defining aspects of the conflict, wouldn’t that be
enough of a base to build a narrative on?
Evading a metanarrative could be a fool’s errand.
The very attempt at not having a narrative develops a narrative about not having
a clear narrative.
Grand narratives are hard to escape.
At the end of the day, we are storytelling creatures.
From the caves to the cinema, narratives are a fundamental part of how we come to describe
our world and the events that take place in it.
This all brings us back to that question:
“Why aren’t there any good War on Terror movies?”
There’s no clear response, but whatever the answer, it likely says more about modern
cinema’s ability to capture the cultural narrative than it does the War on Terror.
(music playing)
The Korean War is one that doesn’t get a lot of mention.
At the beginning of the conflict, television was challenging cinema’s dominance and the
tides were turning.
No surprise, the hit film turned television serial, M.A.S.H.,
would best explore the metanarratives of its time.