Hacksaw Ridge

HACKSAW RIDGE

Written by Robert Schenkann & Andrew Knight

Directed by Mel Gibson

Starring Andrew Garfield, Vince Vaughn, Sam Worthington

Hacksaw Ridge tells the very true story of a man who simultaneously acted as a conscientious objector and a genuine war hero, and therein lies its inherent contradiction: as a film, it both glorifies and condemns, pushing forward for the genre while remaining entrenched in its more unpalatable conventions.

Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield) is the son of a Great War veteran (Hugo Weaving) and your typical country boy Yankee. When the fight against the Japanese calls America to action, Doss accepts the call on one condition: he will never carry a gun.

Mel Gibson’s fifth feature is his first war film since 1995’s Braveheart, yet we don’t arrive on the shores of Okinawa (and thus into combat proper) until more than an hour in. Time is first spent establishing Doss and his particular anti-violence bent, as well as his relationships with his father, soon-to-be sweetheart Dorothy (Teresa Palmer) and his military unit led by Sergeant Howell (the weirdly cast Vince Vaughn).

Doss is an utterly spotless character, almost too pure and naive to be real. Garfield’s awkward rendition of him strangely works, even if it strays a little close to Forrest Gump territory at times. This autobiography paints Doss in the colours of a contemporary Christ, often conspicuously – no surprise given the director’s previous work (The Passion Of The Christ) or Doss’ own faith. There’s no debate: as both a pacifist and a man who saved the lives of 75 Americans and tended to Japanese wounded, he is an unequivocal goddamn hero.

But in establishing so unassailable a protagonist, an ugly ‘us versus them’ mentality prevails. At first it is merely an obstacle to be overcome: Doss battles the prejudices of a corps spiteful of conscientious objectors, who they see as cowards. Sam Worthington makes for a convincing square-jawed captain, though Private Smitty (Luke Bracey) approaches parody with his steeliness.

In Okinawa, it becomes dogma. American soldiers die rapidly in scenes lashed with horror and tragedy; Japanese deaths are glorious, victories for the allies. The enemy are a merciless, screaming horde, relentless and inhuman. 80 years on, why does this impression linger? Why has our love of glory and spite for enemies long since our allies not yielded to time?

Gibson is confident with the battlefield, capturing fear, devastation and the exultation of victory, but he dives into slow-motion, giving as much attention to those who mow down enemies with chainguns as he does to Doss’ selflessness, and it creates a serious cognitive dissonance that undermines the film.

Hacksaw Ridge’s protagonist is one of the most inspiring men in the history of armed conflict – but had Doss lived to see it, would he, too, revel in the grandeur of war?

★★★

Post originally printed in The BRAG; available at http://thebrag.com/arts/hacksaw-ridge