Jay P. Greene's Blog

(Guest post by Jonathan Butcher)

It’s rare that I make it to the theaters to see a new release.  So, in a house sans Netflix, my wife and I work our way through the DVD rack at the library.  My browsing consists of the 1.5 seconds I get in front of the shelves to find something that’s either a) not a sequel or b) isn’t starring someone who just got out of rehab (or prison) before my 2-year-old empties the bottom shelf of foreign films onto the floor.

At the library last week, I miraculously snatched something from my “must see” list and a romantic comedy with one swipe.  Only after I got home did I realize that the romcom (Music and Lyrics) actually stars a leading man who has a mug shot and a female co-star who’s been to rehab–a twofer!

However, it’s the other film I picked up that gets a blog post: Taking Chance, starring Kevin Bacon.  The rest of the cast of this film is unremarkable, save for the brief but meaningful appearance from Tom Wopat (better known as Luke Duke from the Dukes of Hazard) and a quick spot from Matthew Morrison, star of the FOX series Glee.  Bacon is Lt. Col. Mike Strobl, a Marine escorting a fallen Marine’s body (PFC Chance Phelps) home from Iraq for burial.

What is remarkable about Chance is that the film was released in January 2009, well into the media’s apathetic phase of war coverage–even past the antagonistic phase.  Yet the film is startlingly authentic and bravely patriotic.  It holds both of these qualities without pressing for the viewer’s political stance.  The film, a made-for-TV piece produced by HBO, is possibly the most watchable 75 minutes of sincere acting and dialogue I’ve ever seen.  So much about this story could have been manipulated to be uncomfortable, awkward, or confrontational, but it did not wallow in any of these.

The sequence of events and the performance of the actors was reasonable to the point of predictable but it was not sterile.  Bacon is a caring, responsible father who has less than five minutes of total screen time with his children in the whole film–but those moments are rationed so well that nothing is wasted.  As he leaves the house for his trip, we see him scribble quick notes to both of his children on a sticky pad, press them on a package of snack cakes and tuck them in his children’s backpacks.  As he walks to his car, he picks his son’s bike up off of the lawn and stands it up by the porch (an act he repeats at the end, on his return home).  That’s it.  All of the interactions, up to the final scenes with Chance’s family, are like this–carefully scripted so that a few facial features and gestures and a precious few lines of dialogue convey precisely the correct emotion.

The airline representative who moves Strobl up to first class for his flight says, “Thank you.”  Bacon carefully looks back at her, pauses, then gives a short nod and walks away.  The gesture is appreciated and takes just long enough for the viewer to understand what has happened yet not long enough for you to writhe with awkward sympathy.  The screenplay is artfully done and doesn’t rely on pages and pages of dramatic dialogue to get its point across.

Yet dialogue is used well at the appropriate points.  In a short conversation with a veteran the night prior to Chance’s funeral service, Strobl has a moment of self-pity regarding his safe assignment behind a desk but is snapped back to reality with a few lines from the veteran.  The script is treated as a precious commodity, used sparingly and directly.

This is such a welcome change from the typical Hollywood fare that that spends an hour and a half dragging you through tired explanations of feelings and, as is becoming the trend, awkward sequences meant to make you squirm at bizarre attempts at humor.  At one point, on the final leg of the trip, as Strobl drives in a rental car behind the hearse, cars begin to pass the hearse on the left along a narrow stretch of road through the mountains.  Accustomed to drama, perhaps, or dreading an unwelcome twist meant to spice up the plot, I was ready for a car accident or a semi-trailer skidding across the road–or even for the casket to fly out of the back of the hearse.  But in a quick series of three frames, we see a line of cars turn their lights on before and behind the hearse and Strobl’s car, forming a short, spontaneous funeral procession.  And the strangers don’t suddenly become a part of the plot, following the hearse all the way to the funeral; the scenes involve a few frames with probably a dozen cars, and then the story moves on.

The plot is touching, and even if it had mediocre cinematography and an average script it would be worth seeing if for no other reason that its respectful treatment of the military, especially with Hollywood’s growing list of films with questionable (at best) portrayals of of the U.S. military.  But in addition to an excellent story, beautiful cinematography and a rational dialogue is a sense of respect for the subject and viewer.  No shots are wasted, no lines are superfluous, and no plot elements are left hanging.  The film is worth seeing both for its subject and for the care involved in the writing and editing.