‘American Sniper’: We Can Kill It for You Wholesale

This cowboy motif is no accident, as it connects this film to the old John Ford Westerns and the nostalgia some folks feel about John Wayne flicks and the mythology of good white cowboys fighting off savage Indians who were keeping good white settlers from utilizing this “wilderness” that would become the U.S.A. Dehumanizing non-whites is the foundation for creating this nation. It’s the glue that holds apple pies and hot dogs together.

American Sniper poster. Starring Bradley Cooper.
American Sniper poster. Starring Bradley Cooper.

 

On Sept. 11, 2001, I was on the West Coast, living in the mountains of Southern Cali and preparing to go to work. A co-worker came running into our office screaming that the Twin Towers had fallen. Mind you, we were on West Coast time, and by the time I saw the attacks on television, the networks were on replay mode and editing footage deemed too gruesome for viewers.

Gathered around the one tiny TV in another office, my co-workers and I stared in disbelief, and the one thing I said out loud was something I remembered Malcolm X saying about chickens coming home to roost. “This is payback for something folks,” I said to them. While my co-workers were the flag-waving Patriotic types, I was already shaping this assault on American soil as retaliation for the untold dirt our military and government had done for years to countries who didn’t uphold our global agenda. This caused some ruffled feathers between me and some of my colleagues. It was a surreal moment. Our Pearl Harbor for the new millennia.

Looking back at the Sept. 11 attacks, it shouldn’t surprise me why American Sniper was such a big hit with the patriotic ‘muricah crowd.  It is the military chicken soup of the soul cinema experience. It is propaganda of the highest order for viewers who need the Matrix blue pill to live with the lie of America’s War on Terror.

Men are war.
Men are war.

 

What makes American Sniper a disappointing viewing experience is not the ahistorical nature of the film, but quite frankly its generic storytelling. It’s downright boring. I may not agree with the politics of a film in order to enjoy it, but dammit, I have to be engaged with the content and its characters. The only time American Sniper really held my total interest was the appearance of a villainous character named Mustafa (played by Sammy Sheik), another sniper from Syria who we learn was a medal winning sharpshooter in the Olympics. He is for all intents and purposes Chris Kyle’s Arab counterpart. Sammy Sheik is riveting to watch in the brief moments we see him, although he never speaks. (Sidenote: every Arab character is a bad guy in this movie. There are no grays or complexity at all. Men, women, and children are all portrayed as evil, conniving, and dangerous. The idea that they could be defending their country from the cowboy antics of American soldiers is never even hinted at.)

Sammy Sheik as "Mustafa" and the only compelling character to hold my interest.
Sammy Sheik as “Mustafa” and the only compelling character to hold my interest.

 

Bradley Cooper’s portrayal of Chris Kyle as a good ole boy going off to defend American citizens from the new Boogie-Men-of-the-Moment is pretty cut and dry. Usually Cooper is quite engaging to watch with his big baby blues and mega-watt smile. But here he’s not captivating at all, despite his eagerness to be serious and Oscar-worthy. His Kyle comes off as a big dumb reactionary bloke trying to find his manhood through “masculine” pursuits like bronco busting in rodeos and later a trumped up war (lest we forget, the excuse for bludgeoning Iraq was because U.S. intel claimed there was proof of W.M.D.’s—Weapons of Mass Destruction. There were no W.M.D.’s, and the 9/11 hijackers were from Saudi Arabia, but I digress). This cowboy motif is no accident, as it connects this film to the old John Ford Westerns and the nostalgia some folks feel about John Wayne flicks and the mythology of good white cowboys fighting off savage Indians who were keeping good white settlers from utilizing this “wilderness” that would become the U.S.A. Dehumanizing non-whites is the foundation for creating this nation. It’s the glue that holds apple pies and hot dogs together.

The original "Savages" that Cowboys fought. Actually Native people defending their land and liberty.
The original “Savages” that Cowboys fought. Actually Native people defending their land and liberty.

 

The new Wild West of the east. Actually American weapons of mass destruction.
The new Wild West of the east. Actually American weapons of mass destruction.

 

Clint Eastwood, a veteran of old school cowboy flicks and the poster boy for conservative old boy politics, paints American Sniper as another addition to that long line of wild west nostalgia in contemporary war cinema. Unfortunately the script tells us nothing new or insightful about the American psyche in relation to war today. As it stands, the simplistic plot of American Sniper tells us what we already know. Men are war, and American men thrive on it under the guise of Democracy and helping other countries liberate themselves from tyranny–by ironically (maybe intentionally) becoming the new tyranny in places we are supposed to be helping. Every generation, America creates new evil henchmen: Native Americans on the frontier, The Yellow Peril, Red Scare Russians, Black people and Civil Rights, Communist Cuba, and renegade North Korea. Since the 90s and our first trumped-up invasion of Iraq, the Arab world is the new thing that goes bump in the night. Our penchant for war only teaches us that xenophobia and colonialism never went away. We just dress them up with new language like insurgents and failing diplomacy.

Kyle’s indoctrination into war comes when he sees the bombing of the U.S. embassy in Kenya on television, and he only feels bad when he learns some Americans were killed. When the Twin Towers drop, he is gung ho to go to war. Not to protect people, but really, just to have something to do. Before the war, Kyle appears aimless, searching for a purpose. War gives him purpose. He gets married because that seems to be what he is supposed to do. He goes through life following a script pre-written for him. There are obligatory flashback scenes to show his stern father and the simplistic philosophy he was raised to believe in. That there is evil in the world at all times. That there are three types of people in the world: Wolves, sheep, and sheepdogs. And of course, a real man uses a gun and beats the crap out of people. Kyle internalizes these ideals, and carries them with him throughout the rest of his life.

New marriage, but already thinking of battle. Chris and Taya get married. (Bradley Cooper and Sienna Miller)
New marriage, but already thinking of battle. Chris and Taya get married. (Bradley Cooper and Sienna Miller)

 

The introduction of his wife, Taya (Sienna Miller), adds no meat to the story. She is regulated to being the good wife, the baby maker, the nagging spouse crying on the phone with an infant swinging off her breasts. (Let me say that the fake animatronic baby was creepy as hell and so distracting.) Although it probably wasn’t intended in the writing, you get the impression that Kyle preferred to be away from home not because he wanted to be a war hero, but because being a husband/father was a real drag for him.

Kill shot. Marc (Luke Grimes) and Chris Kyle (Bradley Cooper)
Kill shot. Marc (Luke Grimes) and Chris Kyle (Bradley Cooper)

 

We are taken through Kyle’s four tour of duties, and each tour builds Kyle up as the sniper with the most kills. There are two scenes, one in the very beginning of the movie, and one later on, where Kyle is faced with the task of killing a child or not. These scenes are meant to show a moral dilemma, but they rang false to me because if someone is the deadliest sniper in American military history, they didn’t get that high body count by worrying about shooting children. There are no children in the Arab world according to this story. Just little insurgents ready to make war.

The "bad guys" in the sniper crosshairs. In America they would be considered Patriots for fighting back.
The “bad guys” in the sniper crosshairs. In America they would be considered Patriots for fighting back.

 

In the theater that I watched the film, a rotund older white gentleman (probably retired military by his crew cut) was actually rooting for Kyle to shoot a child. Because all the Arabs in the movie were considered “savages,” I have no doubt that Kyle never questioned or worried about assassinating children. They weren’t Americans, and therefore not human. (In real life, Chris Kyle bragged about shooting 30 Black people right after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. He bragged about killing fellow American citizens who I’m sure he didn’t view as human. His Katrina shootings were said to be a lie he made up, but his lies spoke volumes about his character. So his fictional quandary regarding Arab children rang false to me because we are never shown a man who questions anything ever. He’s just an unthinking workhorse used by the military.)

The concept of showing a man who just goes along with the war machine could be enhanced dramatically by having side characters who offer a different viewpoint. Unfortunately, we never spend too much time with side characters.  The one character who does begin to question the meaning of this war, Marc ( Luke Grimes—who needs to be in more movies), barely registers a blip on Kyle’s radar of understanding. The plot drags on for over two hours until there’s a stand-off between Kyle and Mustafa. By then, when he’s about to get his ass handed to him by death, Kyle calls his wife and says he finally wants to come home. Not because war has changed his consciousness or philosophy, but because he’s losing a skirmish that he created by not following orders. He went rogue, it backfired, and now he wants out. That was the realest moment in the entire film. Not heroic, just honest human self-preservation.

Snipers in Ferguson, Missouri, their crosshairs on American citizens .
Snipers in Ferguson, Missouri, their crosshairs on American citizens.

 

This is U.S. terrorism. Snipers against Americans.
This is U.S. terrorism. Snipers against Americans.

 

Watching an audience root for snipers to kill humans defending their right to exist on their own land reminded me of images of American snipers here in the states pointing guns at Black American citizens  and their supporters protesting murders by cops in the United States. This same audience that cheered the heroics of Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle probably cheered the actions of police forces on American streets aiming gun sights on folks with extra melanin. Cognitive dissonance is entrenched in the Patriotic American psyche. It allows Americans to rally around American Sniper, turning it into a blockbuster, while ignoring the home grown terrorism white Americans perpetuated against Black Americans that was depicted in the film Selma. I saw Americans of all colors streaming in to view Selma. American Sniper was vanilla heavy. Not a big surprise to me. Because, history.

Director Clint Eastwood claims he made an anti-war film. He didn't.
Director Clint Eastwood claims he made an anti-war film. He didn’t.

 

Clint Eastwood made spurious claims that American Sniper is an anti-war film. This disingenuous claim falls flat given the simplistic story-line, and the film’s ending dripping with flag waving from real-life  footage of Kyle’s funeral. Had Eastwood really wanted to impress upon an audience the agonies of war, then he would be better off showing actual wounded veterans recovering from the various body traumas they come home with. A lot of flag-waving might become less vigorous when we see war up close and personal. Americans don’t know war. Not really. We watch it on TV like video games. We don’t sleep, eat, go to work, or go to school worrying about unmanned drones and bombs falling out of the sky from some hopped up dudebro with a military computer joystick thousands of miles away.

Unlike the rest of the world, Americans are spared from these continuous horrors and daily PTSD. We are coddled like babies, and this coddling has made us immature children in regards to war. So we deserve a movie like American Sniper. The only message it gives us (like it did Chris Kyle in real life), is that the war you perpetuate abroad will come back to haunt you in another form. Chickens coming home to roost indeed.

No one likes seeing the bodies coming home in movies or in real life.
No one likes seeing the bodies coming home in movies or in real life.

 

 

Creating the Mythology of Beatrix Kiddo Through Music

Tarantino’s vast knowledge of music is clear from the very beginning with ‘Reservoir Dogs.’ However, it isn’t until the ‘Kill Bill’ series when his soundtracks begin to drift away from pop and instead embrace more orchestral sounds like that of Ennio Morricone. Viewers need no knowledge of the genre to instantly recognize that spaghetti western feel. It’s that famous mix of Spanish guitar, orchestra, whistles, cracking whips, trumpet, flute and sometimes chorus that recalls images of Clint Eastwood clad in a green poncho and cowboy hat as the iconic Man with No Name.

The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo (Uma Thurman) in Kill Bill Vol. 1 and The Man with No Name (Clint Eastwood) in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo (Uma Thurman) in Kill Bill Vol. 1 and The Man with No Name (Clint Eastwood) in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

 

This guest post by Rhianna Shaheen appears as part of our theme week on Movie Soundtracks. 

I was obsessed with Kill Bill  in high school. While other kids from school went to see John Tucker Must Die (not that there’s anything wrong with that) I stayed home jamming out to the “Malagueña Salerosa” from the Vol. 2 soundtrack.  I legitimately thought I was Beatrix Kiddo.

Music is a hugely important aspect of Tarantino’s directorial style. In interviews, he often describes his creative process, which largely consists of writing scenes with a specific song in mind. It is how he defines the mood and rhythm of a film. He makes a song feel so organic to a scene that we forget its original source. I honestly can’t hear Nancy Sinatra’s “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” without associating it with Kill Bill.

Tarantino’s vast knowledge of music is clear from the very beginning with Reservoir Dogs. However, it isn’t until the Kill Bill series when his soundtracks begin to drift away from pop and instead embrace more orchestral sounds like that of Ennio Morricone. Viewers need no knowledge of the genre to instantly recognize that spaghetti western feel. It’s that famous mix of Spanish guitar, orchestra, whistles, cracking whips, trumpet, flute and sometimes chorus that recalls images of Clint Eastwood clad in a green poncho and cowboy hat as the iconic Man with No Name.

Tarantino enjoys honoring his film inspirations and obsessions by making countless references to them. However, his use of spaghetti western music is much more deliberate and masterful than just calling attention to older work. Through music he creates a mythology surrounding his heroine.

Bill: “I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite superhero, Superman. […] The mythology is not only great, it’s unique. […] Superman didn’t become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red “S”, that’s the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears – the glasses, the business suit – that’s the costume. Sorta like Beatrix Kiddo and Mrs. Tommy Plympton. […] You would’ve worn the costume of Arlene Plympton. But you were born Beatrix Kiddo. And every morning when you woke up, you’d still be Beatrix Kiddo.” (Kill Bill Vol. 2)

In the above quote, Bill argues that Kiddo is a “natural born killer,” making her no better than the clean slate she strives to achieve for herself and her daughter.  Whether or not she indeed fits the anti-hero role in this story is arguable. Yes, the means to her ends are violent and ruthless, but the film does not exactly take place in the real world. It’s an ultra-violent world of revenge and vengeance where Beatrix Kiddo is the hero. She could have fled her assassins after waking from that coma but instead she decides to go on a “roaring rampage of revenge” for the sake of her daughter.

In Vol. 2, music becomes the climactic expression of Beatrix Kiddo’s heroism.

Where Vol. 1 is driven by action-packed fight scenes, Vol. 2 is driven by emotion and reflection. Through music the film delves much deeper into the transformation of Beatrix Kiddo from passive victim to active avenger. For me, this is really what makes it the stronger half of the story.

During her quest, Beatrix tracks down Bud, Bill’s brother and former assassin. She arrives at his trailer ready to ambush him when he thwarts her attack and shoots her in the chest with rock salt. He was expecting her all along. As an act of his own revenge, Bud seals her in a coffin and buries her alive for “breaking [his] brother’s heart.” This seems to be the end of the road for Beatrix Kiddo.

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After a flashback to her master’s training, we return to her present state six feet underground. She lays there in complete darkness awaiting her Texas funeral when Ennio Morricone’s “L’arena” chimes in. The track was originally used in a duel scene from Il Mercenario (1968).  Here it is repurposed to a similar effect. As the music swells and Beatrix slams her fist into that pine wooden box the scene becomes a showdown of epic proportions. The guitar and snare drum charge on and we think she has a chance. This song exemplifies Morricone’s “heroic style” that carries our character through the action. This scene is not action-packed with a ton of kung fu moves but the music makes this scene just as gripping if not more. It encourages us to spur on our heroine.

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The Burial scene is a defining moment for our character in which we as audience witness her willpower and perseverance even on the verge of death.

After her escape, there is a short sequence of The Bride, worn and sand-ridden as she treks across the vast desert. She has come a long way on her journey. While this bit is not necessary to our understanding of the plot it is stylistically significant to our understanding of the character. A sun flare introduces the track “Sunny Road to Salina” from La route de Salina (1970) as a blurry haze of Beatrix emerges. The music is epic and grand, telling us that nothing will stand in her way in the final stages of her quest. This use of this soundtrack and this shot mirrors a similar long walking scene in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (1966) in which the Man With No Name is dragged and tortured across the desert by his adversary. Similarly, this is seen in the final scene of A Fistful of Dollars (1964) as the Man with no Name returns to confront the bad guys in the final battle.

Beatrix makes her heroic return in Kill Bill Vol. 2
Beatrix makes her heroic return in Kill Bill Vol. 2

 

The Man With No Name returns in A Fistful of Dollars
The Man With No Name returns in A Fistful of Dollars

 

Throughout the film Tarantino makes inter-textual references to Dollars trilogy, often comparing Beatrix Kiddo with the Man With No Name. Clint Eastwood’s iconic character is the stoic good guy with a strict but unorthodox sense of justice, a trope that has been repeated countless times since. These musical references not only make The Bride’s action sound absolutely badass but they also elevate her story to an equally heroic status as that of the Man With No Name. This is not to say that her story relies on his validation. That’s certainly not the case. I would argue that she is superior. While the Man With No Name is a mysterious trope Kiddo is much more three-dimensional. She has something worth fighting for. These musical choices only reinforce the mythology that Beatrix Kiddo’s story enters.

In the film’s final confrontation Beatrix must cut herself away from Bill for good. After giving each other their last words, they fight while their daughter sleeps. To Bill’s surprise, Beatrix uses the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique, resulting in his fated death. Morricone’s “The Demise of Barbara and the Return of Joe” from Navajo Joe (1966) enters as an emotion outpour from The Bride.

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Although Beatrix’s intense resentment for Bill drives the series what it has all built up to is in fact bittersweet. This is not an act of hate. Beatrix does this as an act of love for her daughter who should never have to live in a world of bloodshed and deceit. This moment is the ultimate catharsis for Beatrix Kiddo. As Bill walks to his death the song’s vocal rings like a heartbreaking cry, perhaps it is that of The Bride. Her journey has come full circle.

 


Rhianna Shaheen is a student filmmaker and artist with hopes of writing more in the future. She recently graduated from Bryn Mawr College with a BA in Fine Arts and Minor in Film Studies and Art History. She currently spends most of her time on an epic quest for a full-time job. Check her out on twitter!

 

 

The Good, the Bad and the Perpetuation of a Hilariously Unrealistic Ideal of Masculinity and Individualism in the GOP

It’s sexy to regard subjective truth as hooey

Clint Eastwood strolled out on the stage at the Republican National Convention on August 30 amidst applause and the theme music from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. This man is the emblem of Republican masculinity. He has the squinted glare and appropriate strut of someone with a concealed weapons permit. Clint Eastwood’s personal ideology doesn’t really match the traditionally conservative perspective (he is a-ok with abortionand same-sex marriage). But, he is a swaggering symbol of the individualism that permeates every Young Republican’s wet dreams.

Eastwood was the GOP’s mystery speaker who brought out the swoon in Libertarians and Republicans alike. And, in his 12-minute, mildly coherent speech, Eastwood revealed that the conservative fantasy of manhood is just as wild and absurd as the premises of Western movies with a sharp-shooter who can save a friend from a hanging with circus-skill aim.

One of the first things Eastwood said for his speech at the RNCwas, “I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, what’s a movie tradesman doing out here?

Good question, Eastwood. And he made it clear that inviting a symbol out to make a speech at a pretty important national convention was a bad idea. Eastwood’s talking to an empty chair imploded the internet. He was onstage, a conservative fantasy of manliness, talking to the conservatives’ fantasy of a sniveling socialist Obama.

But, as delusional as Eastwood’s speech was, the platform and policies of the GOP are even worse – one moment advocating for personal freedom and the other moment insisting on restricting access to reproductive healthcare and cutting in on civil liberties for an ethnocentric sense of national security.

See, the narrative of the GOP looks a lot like the narrative of Eastwood’s early films: trumped up notions of individual-driven justice and society. Hell, there are even bootstraps in some of Eastwood’s films – real bootstraps. And yes, in these films it’s the people with bulges in their crotches who get to make decisions. Lady-folk mostly get flung around.

The fetishized stoicism of Eastwood’s Westerns and his white-man-saves-the-dayisms of some of his more recent work (Gran Torino – cough cough) play in super swell to the conservative narrative of the U.S. dream. But, when presented on a stage sans script and with an attempt at getting close to reality, it looks awesomely out of touch.