Even 9/11 denier Matt Taibbi (whose articles on the Banking scams I greatly admire) can’t get around the total bullshit the latest in Hollywood history rewrite is. Here is Steve Watson pointing out how the White house can’t get their bullshit story straight about what happened in Abbottabad.
With gory details about how Osama bin Laden used his wife as a shield in pitch dark while the “Shooter” (FFS) has night vision goggles and has first his tongue lolling about which was upgraded with his brains spilling out even after the whole wife as shield myth was blown out of the water in the days after the alleged murder! Which is funny because the alleged killer of Osama bin Laden committed “suicide” not so long ago and most of the seals involved with the murder died in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan.
went to see Zero Dark Thirty this weekend with great anticipation. I’ve always loved Kathryn Bigelow’s movies – I’m a fan to an almost embarrassing degree. Like most people I liked the Busey-Keanu surf-and-bromance film Point Break, but I also loved the The Weight of Water, as well as Strange Days, The Widowmaker… Bigelow’s movies are visually engrossing, innovative and smart, and I couldn’t wait to see what she did with a real-life subject matter that had the potential to be both the greatest detective story and the greatest action-movie plot of all time.
So I went to see the movie and like most people I know who watched it, I was blown away. On a pure whodunit level, the bulk of the film was an unbelievably compelling thriller, and purely on the level of action cinematography, the final scene – with all its real-world drama and consequence, plus the unique fact the movie revealed secrets about one of the shadowiest, most highly-classified operations ever – was about as pulse-pounding and exciting as movies get.
The way Bigelow shot that last sequence in Abbotabad, constantly declining to Michael-Bay-ize the action sequences with goofball explosions and kung-fu battles, and not glossing over the brutality or the mission’s mistakes (God, what a screw-up to crash that helicopter!), it was ingenious. For however long it lasted, you felt exactly how long 14 or 15 minutes can be, with so much on the line, crowds beginning to form, Pakistani jets on the way.
And when they dragged the big prize with its blood-soaked beard back into the copter and flew off, well – the triumph the characters felt at that moment exploded into the theater, there were gasps and patriotic applause, and even I got caught up in it. The only thing I can compare it to was seeing Rocky or Star Wars in theaters as a kid, the way the crowds went wild over the ass-kicking ending.
On the way home I felt buzzed and high, like one always does after seeing a great film, but then various things that had bothered me about the movie started to float to the surface.
Apart from the queasiness from the opening “enhanced interrogation” scene (more on that in a minute), there was the letdown purely on the detective-movie fanboy level I got from the fact that the “heroes” got their key information from torture. It was like watching a fishing show where the host throws dynamite in the lake to get the bass. In all the detective films and books I grew up watching and reading, the meathead cop who uses the third degree is always the villain – or if not the bad guy exactly, the sap, the klutz, who screws things up by swinging a fist when just talking would have worked fine.