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PAGE TITLE: http://www.breakpoint.org/bp-home
ARTICLE
TITLE:
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
'American
Sniper' Challenges Our Easy Answers about War and Warriors
DATE: January 21, 2015
AUTHOR: G. Shane Morris
AUTHOR
INFORMATION: G.
Shane Morris is assistant editor at BreakPoint, a program of the Colson Center
for Christian Worldview, where he writes for radio and Web on culture,
theology, and politics. He’s also written for Summit Ministries and The
Christian Post. Shane holds a bachelor’s degree in humanities from Thomas
Edison State College, and lives with his wife and two children in Leesburg,
Virginia.
(Note:
This article contains major spoilers.)
Everyone is describing the same scene: The theater is completely silent. No applause, no talking. Moviegoers file out quietly and respectfully as the credits roll and images from the 2013 funeral of U.S. Navy SEAL Chris Kyle flash across the screen.
I shared this experience last weekend after seeing Clint Eastwood's “American Sniper.” At the time I had little idea it would break so many records for a January release, racking up over $90 million in the space of three days and garnering six Academy Award nominations. What was clear to me as I exited the theater, surrounded by a quietly shuffling crowd, was that this film does more than tell the story of the deadliest sniper in U.S. military history. It prompts questions about the nature of war and its cost for those on the front lines and on the home front. And perhaps more importantly, it prompts conservatives, especially those who claim the name of Jesus, to come to grips with some of our fantasies about the military, America, and the God in whom we trust.
Chris
Kyle, the main character (ably played by Bradley Cooper) needs no introduction.
Widely known as “the Legend” in the field, Kyle was credited by the Navy with
160 kills—more than any other sniper in American history. And during his four
tours of duty, he inspired sorely needed morale for those risking their lives
in our nation's most controversial engagement since Vietnam.
He
became just as much of a legend stateside. Hulking and bearded, intoning his
few words with a Texas drawl, and scarcely ever photographed without a flag or
his rifle, he was the quintessential American hero. And his loving wife and two
children no doubt agreed, though they understandably hated his absence.
Eastwood's
portrayal of Kyle's life fits well with what the SEAL reveals about himself in
his autobiography. A Texan whose father taught him how to shoot and hunt no
sooner than he'd learned to ride a bike, Kyle grew up believing that only three
sorts of people exist: sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. And he knew from an early
age which he was. His deep protectiveness and unflinching confidence in the
justice of his cause serve Kyle well later in Eastwood's film, when the sniper
assures a Veterans Affairs counselor, “I will answer to God for every shot I
took.”
Throughout
the film, of course, looms the ending we already know. Not long after
overcoming his own survivor's guilt, Kyle is shot and killed by a fellow
veteran and post-traumatic stress sufferer—a man whom he had been trying to
help.
Having
survived countless hours of combat with a price on his head on some of the Iraq
war's hottest fronts, it was cruelly ironic that the Legend met his end in
civilian clothes. And amid the shock of Kyle's murder, that irony got the
better of former Texas Rep. Ron Paul, who sparked outrage when he tweeted
Jesus' words from Matthew 26:53: “He who lives by the sword dies by the sword.”
Kyle
would no doubt have resented Representative Paul implying he caused his own
death. But he probably wouldn't have minded being compared with Simon Peter,
Jesus' overprotective disciple who lopped off ears at the first sign of
trouble. By his own account, Kyle did much the same, claiming a personal kill
tally nearly twice what the Navy confirms. At least once he was investigated
for shooting Iraqi motorists he deemed suspicious. He makes no bones about
having gunned down women and children to prevent suicide attacks. And in his
autobiography he
tells far-fetched tales of brawling with celebrities at bars and taking his
rifle to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina to pick off looters from the
Superdome.
Whether
true or not, these stories illustrate how comfortable Kyle was with his
reputation as a steady-handed killer—even a vigilante. He and his platoon actually
adopted the skull symbol of “The Punisher,” a vengeful Marvel character who
makes his own justice, as their unofficial insignia. But his self-image as the
incorruptible good-guy was rooted in more than comic books.
“When
God confronts me with my sins,” writes Kyle in his autobiography, “I do not
believe any of the kills I had during the war will be among them. Everyone I
shot was evil. I had good cause on every shot. They all deserved to die.”
The
SEAL regularly carried a Bible with him into combat, though he admitted he
rarely read it. “God, country, family—in that order,” he says in the film. And
in every respect Cooper's character and the real Kyle embody the conception
many Americans—especially conservatives—have of goodness.
Country
singer Toby Keith helpfully summed up this flavor of Americanism in his
chart-topper “Courtesy of
the Red, White and Blue,” a response to the 9/11 terrorist attacks: “We'll
put a boot in your a**, it's the American way!” he sings, summing up how many
in the United States feel not only about Al Qaeda, but about the Muslim world
in general. “Just nuke 'em all” is an all-too-common refrain after beers have
loosened patriotic tongues. “Put the fear of God in 'em,” says one character in
the film. And this pseudo-Christian attitude shows up in the real Legend's
autobiography:
“I
hated the damn savages I’d been fighting,” Kyle writes. “I never once fought
for the Iraqis. I could give a flying f**k about them.”
But
in Eastwood's retelling, the unopened Bible Kyle carries like a talisman does
little to ward off the effects of combat. He's haunted by insurgents'
atrocities (in one scene a young boy is murdered with an electric drill, and in
another U.S. troops discover a torture chamber filled with body parts). He's
also dogged by the faces of marines and fellow SEALs he couldn't save, all of
whom he considered brothers. Despite his “taking out” some opponents from over
2,000 yards away, the grisly realities of the battlefield take their toll on
Kyle, leaving him jumpy and distant at home and increasingly reckless on duty.
His
nemesis, a former Syrian Olympian and sniper with skill to rival his own, takes
advantage of any weakness he senses, shooting at Kyle and felling his friends
and platoon-mates at every chance. Between tours, Kyle's wife, Taya (Sienna
Miller), anguishes over the changes she sees in her husband, begging him to
pass his duty to someone else.
“You
can only circle the flame for so long,” she warns, and even questions why
American soldiers must spend their blood in Iraq.
In
the end, these questions about war and honest portrayals of the cost of
military service are what make Eastwood's film so potent. And despite gripping
performances from every cast member, white-knuckle pacing, and seamless
on-location effects, it's the true-to-life picture of a warrior's and nation's
struggle with right and wrong that make it a masterpiece. Clint Eastwood may
have holstered his acting career, but he's shooting straighter than ever from
the director's chair. And ultimately his refusal to settle for easy answers did
more justice to Chris Kyle and our men and women in uniform than any tidy,
patriotic war hero movie would.
“American
Sniper” is rated R for a steady drumbeat of f-bombs, for intense, graphic
violence, and
for sending Michael Moore into a hissy fit. It's an outstanding,
respectful, deeply challenging film that shatters the simplistic way many
Americans—even Christians—look at war. It's not an easy watch. It's the sort of
thing that hits you right between the eyes. But we need one of those films
every so often to shoot down our easy answers and leave us shuffling out
silently.
Image copyright Warner Bros. Pictures.
G. Shane Morris is assistant editor for BreakPoint
Radio.
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