HAMBURGER HILL Movie Review
1987 John Irvin
With the commercial success of such idiosyncratic depictions of the war as Apocalypse Now, Platoon, and Full Metal Jacket, a more conventional response was inevitable. This strangely flawed, old-fashioned picture is the result. While the film has been praised by some for its historical accuracy, the soldiers are played by the prettiest ensemble of young actors ever gathered for a Vietnam film. They strip down at the first possible moment to show off their abs and pecs. Then once the action begins, they turn into a bunch of right-wing crybabies who complain that their girlfriends don't understand them because they believe the liberal media vultures, the peaceniks, and even the Kennedys.
The jingoistic lapse is bad enough on its own, but the filmmakers choose to spend several minutes in separate scenes repeating and elaborating on the idea. They acknowledge the much more immediate and serious problem of American soldiers killed by friendly fire from helicopters in one brief, passing moment and then forget it. Their claims of historical accuracy, then, must be taken with a grain of salt. A foreword states “On 10 May 1969, troops of the 101st Airborne Division engaged the enemy at the base of Hill 937 in the Ashau Valley. Ten days and 11 bloody assaults later, the Troops who fought there called it Hamburger Hill.”
Before these cinematic grunts arrive at the battlefield, though, they spend the first 30 minutes or so bickering with each other, visiting the local bordello, and taking off their shirts for any number of reasons. Though they lack strong personalities, the most important members of the group are Sgt. Frantz (Dylan McDermott), who typically wears his helmet at a jaunty angle, Sgt. Worcester (Steven Weber), Motown (Michael Boatman), and Doc (Courtney B. Vance), the medic. Their dialogue is filled with beaucoup dinky-dou di di mow cliches, and, as a group, their acting style explores the more emotive ends of the spectrum.
The combat scenes are well paced and unusually graphic, with exploding heads, shredded organs, and severed limbs created by in-your-face special effects. They are appropriately loud and chaotic, too, but never particularly moving because the characters are so thin. And the clean, clear, sharply focused images created by director John Irvin and cinematographer Peter Macdonald actually work against an atmosphere of urgent authenticity. Viewers expect those scenes to be blurred, grainy, and shaky. Though Irvin's grunts get down in the mud, his camera never does. In the same vein, the explosions of phosphorous bombs recall the beauty of chrysanthemum fireworks—more impressive than destructive.
As the title suggests, Irvin and writer James Carabatsos take Lewis Milestone's Korean War film Pork Chop Hill as a model. But where Milestone uses the battle to comment on the peace negotiations and, by extension, the war as a whole, this film cannot claim any larger significance. The real engagement between North Vietnamese regulars and American soldiers was an isolated occurrence. Carabatsos has said that the film is autobiographical. Irvin made a documentary in Vietnam, so he, too, can claim first-hand experience. Even so, they cannot add much that's original to the cinematic literature of Vietnam.
Cast: Michael Dolan (Murphy), Daniel O'Shea (Gaigin), Dylan McDermott (Frantz), Tommy Swerdlow (Bienstock), Courtney B. Vance (Doc Johnson), Anthony Barille (Languilli), Michael Boatman (Motown), Don Cheadle (Washburn), Tim Quill (Beletsky), Don James (McDaniel), Michael A. Nickles (Galvan), Harry O'Reilly (Duffy), Steven Weber (Sgt. Worcester), Tegan West (Lt. Eden), Kieu Chinh (Mama San), Doug Goodman (Lagunas), J.C. Palmore (Healy); Written by: Jim Carabatsos; Cinematography by: Peter Macdonald; Music by: Philip Glass; Technical Advisor: Kieu Chinh. Producer: Marcia Nasatir, James Carabatsos. Boxoffice: 13.8M. MPAA Rating: R. Running Time: 104 minutes. Format: VHS, Beta, LV.