Clint couldn't care less about entertainment, gloss, and aesthetic flattery. He makes a purely political film, yet grounded in the normal lives of its protagonists, filled with details almost repugnant in a cinematic sense. More than cinema, we are in the realm of journalistic documentary, characterized by an obvious interpretative key already present in earlier films. Eastwood speaks of the necessity of heroism in everyday life, about that endless array of ordinary heroes who, in two minutes, can choose to save hundreds of lives or hide under a seat and wait for the worst.
Compared to American Sniper and Sully, he does an even more bare and linear job, almost frivolous (but only in appearance) in following the experiences of the protagonists. But those trivial details are necessary to provide a picture that is actually exquisitely political. The three young men are not excellent soldiers, they are not men obsessed only with war. They are also "fools" who take selfies and get drunk at the club. But they have one extra thing: they have the skills and the technical knowledge to intervene in an emergency. Those three Americans save a train full of Europeans who would otherwise have witnessed their demise helplessly.
They are not better than others; they are not perfect. On the contrary, they are essentially sidelined by the rigid parameters of the system. They are not model Americans like Chris Kyle, an infallible sniper, or Sully, an extraordinary pilot. They are half-failures, but when it comes down to risking their lives to save the "homeland," they have no doubts about the necessity to intervene and are materially capable of doing so. Each of us can and must be a hero when life’s circumstances lead to moments of particular gravity.
The "Ideal Republic" of Clint Eastwood asks that every citizen be a bit of a soldier too—not out of a warmongering obsession but for public utility, for the need to stem what is defined as "evil." The correctness of that very clear vision is not debated here; we talk about the real necessity of knowing how to defend oneself. And it is no coincidence that it is three Americans who intervene. Even a mediocre soldier can save hundreds of lives, but without that minimal preparation, they would probably only sacrifice themselves like a lamb. There’s also a matter of chance and luck, but there is, above all, a consciousness of the necessity to intervene to save others, and a minimal preparation to do so.
Translating all this into geopolitical terms, it's easy to read the criticism of a Europe that spends little for its own defense and repudiates war as if they could offer themselves like cattle to butchers, hoping everything goes well, that threats are thwarted before they become real. Obviously, the discourse is more complex, but surely the reading has its foundation and is consistent with the path started in previous works.
A cinema without embellishments, without too much emphasis (except for Hollande's final speech), essential, which sets out broad premises to be well considered, then makes them explode in a few intense minutes. The idea of providence and predestination should not be taken literally: I do not believe it’s a religious vision of the director, but a necessary suggestion to feel fundamental for the common good. It is a Creed, a sense of responsibility that prompts one to act without hesitation when circumstances require it. And it is a push opposed to the lax individualism that progresses. It is needed so that people feel crucial for the lives of others and avoid thinking that it’s always and only the State that can and should save them. The State is made up of individuals, and they are the ones who must act firsthand. Therefore, it’s not a discourse of love for weapons, it's not a war obsession, it’s the clear assessment of the necessity of checks and balances to preserve Western civilization from external threats. And this goes far beyond the stars and stripes view; it is a discourse of simple and inflexible rationality. And precisely because the protagonists are not extraordinary figures, Eastwood's general socio-political message stands out even more clearly. The perfect, and real, story to represent his ideal Republic. Which also contemplates hyper-consumerist laxity, while mocking it, but continues to consider certain preparation and a sense of duty essential when facing the worst. As the Latins used to say, "Si vis pacem, para bellum."
(Honestly, cinema much more uncomfortable and "with balls" than the cauldron of pre-packaged controversies of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing)
7/10
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