Platoon

Gen-X'ers (like me) grew up with the shadows of two very different wars over their lives. Many of our grandparents lived through or served in World War II. It was spoken about with pride and accomplishment. It had hard and defined lines of good and evil. Fighting in it was not just a duty; it was almost an honor to defend the world against fascism and tyranny and the inhumanity of the Axis powers. Holidays are built around the end of the two fronts of the war. Vietnam was the polar opposite of that. It was a psychological open wound, a reminder that the United States was not an invincible entity. There is no celebration of the day we left Vietnam, because we left with our tails between our legs. Our soldiers didn't come home triumphant, conquering heroes; they came back emotionally broken and disillusioned with the government that made them fight in the mud and the rain for nothing. War movies made about World War II always end on some victorious note; an enemy vanquished, a mission successful. You don't see that in Vietnam movies, because there were never any victories to note. Just pointless death and psychological scarring. Platoon -- inspired by events witnessed and experienced first-hand by director Oliver Stone, who served in Vietnam -- is all about that pointlessness and misery and death. It has no intentions of presenting the war or the armed forces fighting it as anything other than what it was; a group of people fighting a war none of them could quite justify or rationalize, and how each of them handle it. There are no successful missions in Platoon, no rah-rah speeches or homecoming parades. The final scene -- of our main character, Taylor, being flown away from the battlefield due to injuries sustained in battle -- is as triumphant as it gets, because he's getting away, once and for all, and all he had to do was witness horrors beyond comprehension, humanity at its worst, and get shot. That is as joyful as it gets, that escaping with deep mental anguish and physical trauma are the best case scenario. Taylor (played by Charlie Sheen in easily his best role) is young and idealistic. He comes from affluence, but believes that he should do no less than the average person and volunteers for the war. He thinks he's coming in as a rescuing angel, that there is nobility, and he discovers how wrong he is literally the moment he steps off the chopper and sees body bags. This won't be a John Wayne movie, for him or for us. In the platoon Taylor is a part of are two very magnetic and opposing forces; Elias (Willem Dafoe), rational, calm, almost beatific. He's been there too long and perhaps gotten a little reckless, but he also knows the reality of what they're doing, that it is hopeless and going to end in failure. But, in contrast to Barnes (Tom Berenger), he still has his humanity. Barnes has succumbed to the madness and the misery. He is fatalistic to a fault; he knows he's going to Hell, and he's devoted himself to making sure everyone comes with him. Everyone that doesn't agree with him 100% is against him, which means any Vietnamese person at all is a potential enemy, women and children included. He has no trace of humanity left; just survival instinct at all costs. It is between these two poles Taylor is stuck and is constantly pulled, tearing at his sanity day by day. There is no overarching story to Platoon. There is not much character development either save for Taylor's growing disillusionment, but that's not to Platoon's disadvantage. There couldn't be character growth in such a place, and it would be realistic to force some kind of hero's journey or quest for a higher truth into what Platoon is doing. This movie is meant to be the window that was discussed in hushed, sorrowful whispers by those who survived, and assumed by those who protested. This is Oliver Stone saying for every veteran who came back -- no matter what their condition, alive, dead, or worse -- "I see you, I see your truth, I know it well, and I will put in the faces of the world who don't". Platoon is meant to do one thing: expose the ugliness of Vietnam to those who doubted. Oliver Stone's direction is impeccable here; he earned his Oscar by giving the viewer a battlefield that is confusing and gross and horrendous. You lose track of the bodies and the bullets just as the soldiers do. There's a sequence where the platoon happens upon a small village; they find guns and tunnels and huge stores of rice, but no men of fighting age, just women, children, the old, and the infirm. The residents are questions and say the NVA uses the town as a way station of sorts, storing provisions there, whether they like it or not. It is a flashpoint in the movie's progression; some see it as just what the villagers say it is, and some think the residents are lying and are loyalists to the NVA. What happens informs the rest of the movie, but the point of the scene is also to illustrate to the viewer that these are the choices the soldiers had to make. Do they take the chance the villagers are telling the truth and risk leaving stores of munitions and food? Do they destroy the lives of innocent people on a "just in case"? There is no good answer. Someone will suffer either way, and really, everyone will, in their own way. That is what Stone's direction brings; it never flinches away from anything. It never hesitates to take us to the edge and then push us over it; if Taylor and Barnes and Elias and the rest are going over the edge, so are the viewers. You want to see war? You want to see the "glory" of war? This is it, as honest as it can be. The acting of this movie is next-level. Berenger does such an astounding job making Barnes three-dimensional. He is a reprehensible monster, absolutely, but he's also pitiable. We don't know if he was drafted or volunteered, but we know that the pressures he's faced have cracked him. He didn't ask to become a man who would shoot civilians just in case, and it is terrible that he's not only fallen so far from the light, but that he can't even conceive of seeing light ever again. Dafoe's Elias is equally sad; he is wounded and hopeless. All he can do is move forward. He has retained his sense of humanity, but he knows that in a sense it's a liability. He doesn't think they're winning the war, and he doesn't think he's making it home. And then there's Sheen, whose character goes from wide-eyed and naive to disillusioned in such a tragic and harrowing arc. The supporting cast is also fantastic -- Keith David, John C. McGinley, Corey Glover, and so many more. Every element of this movie hits the notes they're supposed to to make the viewer feel uncomfortable and squeamish. If there is one thing to caution potential viewers about is that it is not a movie you watch to be entertained. You will feel no joy watching this. It is magnificently made and acted, but it is not fun. But then again, it isn't trying to be any of that. This doesn't want to be some Audie Murphy and the Light Brigade yay MURICA kind of movie. This is an ugly movie about ugliness, and that's what it's trying to be. It's like Kids; it doesn't revel in the darkness, but it never hides from it or gilds it for easy viewing. Platoon is something all Americans should watch, to remind them what war really is. It's easy to sit in a rocking chair and be "for" or "against" war, but for the people on the front lines, it's a whole different world. Watching Platoon should wound you in your soul. Your heart should come out of this movie heavier than it went in. It should shame you for ever believing the ridiculous idea that war is noble and right and that when the good guys win, everybody goes home and everything is good and all is right with the world. The truth is every war is ugly, even when the guns fall silent and the boys come home. For those who got to come home, Platoon is here to remind you that in their minds and their hearts, the war never ends.