Vengeance for Dummies

It comes as little surprise that the early reviews for Steven Spielberg's Munich have been, for the most part, glowing. His films that tackle controversial subjects (slavery, the Holocaust, WWII) have always been critical darlings, and this one is no exception, thanks to its air of self-importance, and its arrival in the midst of a holiday season filled with mostly escapist fare. Still, what is surprising is that, as of this writing, the only truly negative reviews have come from the neocons, who are outraged that Spielberg humanizes the terrorists, and puts them on the same ethical plane as Mossad. It's a shame that the polarization is strictly political, for the film's faults have little to do with Spielberg's so-called liberal viewpoint. Munich is a dumbed-down, condescending, wishy-washy take on a serious subject that is more about Spielberg's moral egotism than anything else. Violence begets more violence, which begets even more violence. This is what the film teaches us, repeatedly, for two and a half hours. Munich tells of the Israeli response to the massacre of eleven athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics. A super-secret hit squad is formed, ensuring that there are no official ties to Mossad or the Israeli government. The group, led by Avner (Eric Bana), is sent to Europe to assassinate all who were responsible for the attack. The team ranges ideologically from the bloodthirsty "kill every Palestinian" Steve (Daniel Craig), to Matthieu Kassovitz's reluctant bomber with a conscience, while Ciarán Hinds and Hanns Zischler function as the older, wiser counterparts to those two. Screenwriter Eric (Forrest Gump) Roth uses this ready-made conflict to create a series of inane moral diatribes between the team members that serve as little more than a device to ensure the audience fully understands what they are meant to think about the violent scene that preceded it. (It's possible that Tony Kushner, co-screenwriter of the film, wrote these scenes, but his contributions appear to be limited to several lengthy monologues that are decidedly different than these overly simplistic, insulting sequences.) Must we be spoon-fed our morality lessons? Is it that we are incapable of drawing our own conclusions, or is Spielberg worried that those conclusions might not match his own? This type of condescension, so typical of Spielberg films, is cranked up to eleven here -- there's no room for even a hint of interpretation. Case in point [mild spoilers] -- three team members travel to Amsterdam to assassinate a young woman who killed one of the other members. This is not part of their charge, but a premeditated act of vengeance. It's a powerful, unsettling scene made even more disturbing by the fact that the woman winds up sprawled out nude with three holes in her chest. Avner covers her with her robe, but one of the others stops him, and insists on leaving her exposed. That brief moment tells us plenty about the two men, and of the moral ambiguity of the scene. Yet not five minutes later (in the mandatory post-mortem discussion scene) the same character says, "I wish I had let you close her robe." What function does this serve? To show that even a hired assassin can feel regret? Or is it rather a reminder that Avner is the righteous one of the group? (As if a token of decency somehow justifies a revenge killing anyway.) Of course, Munich wouldn't be complete without the director incorporating his signature device -- the child-in-peril sequence. Though shot in slow-motion to increase the suspense, there's never a doubt about the outcome -- this is a Steven Spielberg film after all. Spielberg must think that audiences are cold, unfeeling, desensitized beings, and that only by threatening us with the death of an innocent child can we muster up an iota of emotional response. Why else would he have to resort to this tactic? If, as Armond White claims, it is to hold us in a "moral, negotiating vice" [sic] why fabricate a scene to do so? If Avner is meant to be our moral surrogate, why not recreate their assassination of an innocent Moroccan man in Norway -- an event that actually occurred? Of course that might make it difficult for some of us to side with Avner, and Spielberg will have none of that. This is the real problem with the film. Spielberg wants us to identify with Avner, but never judge him. He may question his own actions and suffer from doubt, but never for a moment are we to feel he's anything but the hero of the story. He never makes mistakes -- poor judgment, perhaps, but never wrong. Every action is laid forth in front of us, and explained, rationalized, etc. To show Avner killing an innocent man would have added a level of depth to our relationship with the character, and Spielberg goes out of his way to avoid that. Neither complex nor ambiguous, Avner is the typical one-dimensional Spielbergian hero, daddy issues and all. (Filmbrain joked about this a few weeks ago -- never really imagined it would be in this film as well.) Spielberg does do a decent job of portraying the Palestinian terrorists as human, though they don't have a lot to do in the film other than smile, offer a cigarette or two, and blow up. In one extremely contrived sequence, Avner and his team find themselves sharing a house in Greece with a group of PLO members. While the scene does include a somewhat interesting (albeit simplistic) ideological conversation, it's ruined by a radio showdown that ends with the two groups learning about the healing power of Al Green. As the body count increases, so does Avner's doubt and paranoia. Fleeing to Brooklyn (where his wife and baby daughter live) he exorcises his Munich demons by imagining the execution of the athletes while he has aggressive sex with his wife. With buckets of sweat flying off his body (in slow motion, naturally), his orgasmic thrusts are perfectly synchronized with the murders. To call the scene ham-fisted would be an understatement, though Spielberg saves his most offensive, most manipulative shot for the very end, where he clobbers you over the head just in case you didn't get it for the last two and half hours. Invoking 9/11 to make a point is an even cheaper tactic than threatening to blow up a little Arab girl. Munich is neither fish nor flesh. It has the makings of an interesting political thriller, but instead of giving us a Z or Day of the Jackal, Spielberg felt he could both entertain and bring peace to the Middle East. As a meditation on vengeance, the problems of terrorism/counter-terrorism, and the Israel-Palestine situation, it is substantially lacking in original ideas, and its moral/ethical discussions never rise above the painfully obvious. Its attempt at even-handedness, to not reduce matters to black and white issues, is ultimately its downfall, for what we are left with is a dull grey. Had Spielberg been brave enough to actually take a position, we might have wound up with something a bit meatier than this obvious bit of Oscar-bait. Art will never solve the world's political problems, and neither will Steven Spielberg's ego., ,

Comments

[Todd]

Oh man, I'm glad I read this review, because Edelstein's in Slate today almost got me thinking that I should go see it. That "sex with wife/cut with killings" things is just the kkind of thing that enrages me in films.

[Filmbrain]

Well, I'm clearly in the minority here. Many esteemed critics have loved the film, so don't take my word for it. I really hate being pandered to, but obviously others don't. I prefer films that are challenging, with multi-faceted characters. Armond White would call me an arrogant snob for this (in fact, he did) so....maybe I am?

The sex/killing scene really makes little sense. First off, Avner wasn't present at the killings, so is this meant to be his imagination of how it went down? Also, what does the scene really mean? Cinephiliac and I discussed it at length and came up empty handed.

[dvd]

That sounds like those nauseating bookends to Saving Private Ryan, setting up the film as memory which the character doing the reminiscing shouldn't have been privy to. Intense manipulation at the expense of formal credibility.

[burritoboy]

"His films that tackle controversial subjects "

Actually, these subjects are NOT controversial - very few people believe slavery was good, or that Holocaust was a positive event, or that WWII didn't need to be fought. And Spielberg has absolutely conventional ideas about all of these subjects - in fact, his WWII movie has a more conventional and absolutely blah moral than almost any of the great WWII movies made DURING that war. The world of Casablanca (not nearly in even the top class of WWII movies) is infintely more complex than anything Spielberg can imagine.

"inane moral diatribes between the team members that serve as little more than a device to ensure the audience fully understands what they are meant to think about the violent scene that preceded it"

Spielberg, morally, is a primitive. Filmically, that shows - filmmakers with real moral understandings can show you complexity without words - example: Bob (in Melville's Bob le Flambeur) enters his apartment after Paolo and Anne have left. Bob's beloved slot machine has been broken into and the change is all over the floor. He knows everything and we know everything - the inherent nobility of Bob, how the old ways are vanishing, both the excitement and inherent futility of the Baby Boomers and so much more - without a word of dialogue.

As Samuel Fuller teaches us in Shock Corridor, the guys with the moral diatribes are freakin' insane.

[Sleeper]

Not to be a dick or nuthin, but "penultimate" actually means "next-to-last" and as such doesn't make sense in the fifth paragraph there. And no, even though my 2 comments on this blog to date have been about grammatical errors and HARMFUL INSECT, I am not secretly Mike D'Angelo.

[Filmbrain]

Hey Not Mike --

It's a fair cop. I misused a word.

I guess I've always misunderstood the title of that Philip K. Dick book then.

Been meaning to thank you for the Harmful Insect post. After reading some interesting reviews, I ordered the Japanese DVD but haven't found the time to watch it yet.

[Jurgen]

"Its attempt at even-handedness, to not reduce matters to black and white issues, is ultimately its downfall, for what we are left with is a dull grey. Had Spielberg been brave enough to actually take a position, we might have wound up with something a bit meatier"

I can't help feeling you're critiquing Spielberg simultaneously for making a message film but then for not giving us a message, as if anything would be forgiven if he'd articulated a five point plan for Israel-Palestinian peace. I'm not at all religious, but "thou shall not kill" seems like a pretty good message to me. Especially in the context of a politcal thriller.

I'm really looking forward to "Munic". While I'm not a fan of "Saving Private Ryan" and "Amistad", and there's a lot wrong with "Schindler's List", I think he's undergone a resurgence starting with "A.I.". I think he's become (dare I say it) a nuanced filmmaker. I loved how he played with revenge-film conventions in "Minority Report", a clever film that explores the difference between justice and vengeance. Given how quickly America was convinced to go to war (and how uncritical 99% of Hollywood films are of vengeance as modus operandi) I'm impressed that Spielberg seems dedicated to applying his considerable viseral talents to making thrillers where you come to hope his heros ultimately don't extract a pound of flesh.

Then again I don't think Armond White is the anti-Christ.

But then again maybe I won't like the movie. It's not like Spielberg hasn't fucked up before. I'm just willing to give him the benefit of the doubt until I see it myself.

[Matt]

"He may question his own actions and suffer from doubt, but never for a moment are we to feel he's anything but the hero of the story."

Coincidentally, this is how I felt about King Kong. Almost every character in the film, with the exception of Naomi Watts and Jack Black, misunderstands the monkey, but the viewer is always completely aware of this fact: "never for a moment are we to feel he's anything but the hero of the story."

But this is perhaps way off topic!

[Filmbrain]

Jurgen --

"Thou shalt not kill" is a fine message -- just look at what Kieslowski did with it.

But with Munich Spielberg just sits on the fence. Israelis kill, Palestinians kill, repeat. Does Spielberg think that by merely showing us the cycle of violence he's going to change anybody's mind (let alone the world), or teach us anything we haven't known since we were children?

If we, the audience, were actually challenged -- if Avner was complex enough that it made it difficult for us to decide how we feel about him (and his charge) then Munich might have been a successful film. Instead, we are left as simple spectators to Spielberg's moral egotism.

As a New Yorker, I was deeply offended by the last shot -- especially in the context in which it was used.

I don't think Armond is the devil. However, his blind devotion to Spielberg does make his reviews a bit suspect.

[Darren]

I'm eager to see Munich but only because I'm curious to experience the aesthetic dissonance of Spielberg and Kushner working together.

"But with Munich he just sits on the fence. Israelis kill, Palestinians kill, repeat. Does Spielberg think that by just showing it he's going to change anybody's mind (let alone the world), or teach us anything we haven't known since we were children?"

I posted this a day or two ago on my site, but I really love the last few lines of Matt Roth's review of Welcome to Sarajevo:

"Even more than the Western literary tradition, steeped in Conrad, Milton, Dante, and the Bible, the ideology of filmmaking is what ultimately explains Winterbottom's portrayal of Sarajevo as simply a place of the damned, a position that lets us off the hook entirely. Narratives that take the human-interest approach and center on individuals always valorize personal, direct, unself-conscious action -- and always implicitly derogate indirect, bureaucratic action. As it turns out, however, the opportunities for most of us to take pure, direct action -- to look into the eyes of a child and determine to save her -- are extremely limited.

Even if someone did drop everything to go to Bosnia tomorrow to, I don't know, nurse war casualties, no one can be in all of the world's trouble spots at once. So it's either take highly indirect action through vast, impersonal bureaucracies or take no action at all. Our unromantic reliance on such vast bureaucracies is what makes democracy important -- and rigorous policy debates, much more than teary-eyed tales of individual heroics, vital. By advocating an unrealistic course of action, Welcome to Sarajevo ultimately reconciles us to doing nothing at all."

Can the same critique be made of Spielberg's sentimentality or fence-sitting?

[Filmbrain]

According to the LA Times interview with Spielberg, Kushner turned in a 300 page script. I'd be really curious to know how much of that actually wound up in the final film.

[Adam]

I haven't seen MUNICH yet, and will probably check it out at the 2nd runs out here in SF. But since this is an exploration of 'vegeance', what I'm curious to hear, Filmbrain, is how Park Chan-wook's explorations work for you whereas this one doesn't. David Edelstein at NPR talks positively of MUNICH because of he sees it as an needed corrective to recent less reflective revenge films. (He doesn't mention which films he's comparing MUNICH to, but to his credit, he also acknowledges how 'to (desire) revenge is human' so he's not slamming these other films per se, just expressing some discomfort w/ their takes on vengeance.) So why do Park's films work for you and MUNICH doesn't. I'm itching for a little compare and contrast, one that was unnecessary in your review, just something I'm curious about.

[burritoboy]

"thou shall not kill" seems like a pretty good message to me. Especially in the context of a politcal thriller."

It can either be a nuanced and substantive message, or it can be pap. Spielberg here (as usual) chooses pap.

[Filmbrain]

Adam -

Believe me when I tell you I knew you were going to post something like this.

To fully answer your question could easily turn into a separate post, but I will provide you with some thoughts I have on the subject. I'm going to limit my discussion to Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance for I feel it is the most serious meditation in the trilogy of the subject of vengeance.

As soon as the lights came up after Munich, my first thought was, Park Chan-wook did it much better. However, it's hard to really compare the two films. Avner's trail of vengeance stems from a sense of duty to his country and personal outrage about the Munich massacre. Ryu, on the other hand, is the everyman. He is both socially and politically insignificant -- so much, in fact, that he's not even given a voice. (Though many critics failed to see it, SFMV is an incredibly political film.) His path begins with a selfless (though unwise) act to save his sister's life. This of course leads to an unfortunate chain of events that results in multiple acts of vengeance sought, each with it's own unique motive. The actions (and reactions) of all the characters is never questioned -- nobody stops and thinks about what they are about to do, and there's no reflection either. That's not to say they don't suffer -- they do, visibly at times, but unlike Munich Park doesn't manipulate or lead our hand. This creates a very real tension, one that forces the viewer to find his or her place amongst a sea of characters who are flawed, but human, all too human. There's no hero of the film, and our own sympathy for Mr. vengeance may lessen given our own personal feeling about what is just or justifiable.

Park's tale can be seen as a morality play, but unlike Spielberg with his finger-wagging, Park isn't trying to teach us a lesson, nor is he condescending in any way. I was drained after SFMV. With Munich I felt as if I was back in grade school.

[Adam]

Filmbrain, are you saying I'm getting predictable? Gotta change my MO to remain the ellusive, slippery entity I strive to be.

But, yes, I was disappointed w/ how some reviewers received/read SFMV, because I saw so much there. Kyu Hyun Kim's chapter in NEW KOREAN CINEMA really pegs much of the power of SFMV, such as you demonstrated with your thoughts.

[Aaron]

First of all, I'd just like to throw out there: Filmbrain, does this mean that Munich only gets one "kicked in the sternum"? Or none? Obviously, SFMV, draining you and all, must have received four kicks. (or is it a five point scale? Hillis -- where's that graphic?!)

Now, I haven't seen Munich yet either, and while I don't love Spielberg as much as Armond White, I also don't believe Armond is the anti-Christ. I'm Jewish -- we don't have an anti-Christ. Hamen? Sure. Sorry I digress.

But just to get into the Spielberg discussion: my problem recently with him hasn't been finger-wagging. I personally love Schindler's List (yeah, blotch of red and all). It's his disturbing pattern of forgetting how to tell a story that's been pissing me off back since Jurassic Park 2. He keeps making movies with a minimum of two endings, and Jurgen (I think it was) saying that his resurgence came during A.I.. Ugh ... he ruined A.I. a magnificent film until the lack of credits when it was over. Private Ryan was similar in its annoying bookends from an impossible perspective (as "dvd" mentioned).

I think so much of the "finger-wagging" obviously is tied to how close one might be to the perspective of a film ... or something. I mean, I felt Syriana was one of the most condescending and annoyingly preachy films I've seen in a long time (and really poorly directed, for that matter), yet all sorts of critics seem to get off on its "complexity" -- which I believe is just code for people thinking they understand something lowly normal folk don't, but whatever.

Uhm ... what was I saying? Oh ... I should probably just go see Munich or something.

Meanwhile, Filmbrain, I thought SFLadyV was your favorite of the trilogy!

[Filmbrain]

Aaron --

I would give this one kick -- for that disturbing scene with the woman alone.

Syriana certainly did have a political agenda -- and how! But again, I don't need a convoluted thriller to tell me that oil companies are evil. Still, it was a fun thriller that kept me entertained. Thing is, I never think of it. It was gone about two hours after seeing it.

SFLadyV might be my favorite, but I think the first film is the most serious of the trilogy.

Can't wait to read about your Xmas movie marathon, and I'm really looking forward to your thoughts on Munich which I think you might actually like.

[burritoboy]

Syriana is simply a failed version of Lone Star (then, of course, so many of John Sayles' other movies are also failed versions of Lone Star). Replace "racism" with "oil" and there you go - except that Lone Star is good and Syriana mediocre.

Admittedly, it's probably Chris Cooper who's reminding me of John Sayles - damn, isn't Cooper such a great actor? Not in Syriana, though (flipside, doesn't everyone hate Amanda Peet? I was wishing Matt Damon would punch her monster giant teeth out the entire length of the movie).

[Jurgen]

Aaron:

I happen to really like the coda in "A.I.". I think it captures what I like best about Spielberg's resurgence (yes, I'll keep using that word). Spielberg's inability to not over-indentify with the David the robot's longing makes the film infinitely richer than had Kubrick made it. Kubrick's framework transforms what in many ways is a standard Spielbergian melodrama about an orphan in peril into an examination into the workings of melodrama itself. The coda is essential to pushing the film beyond the realm of melodrama or fable. When those aliens from "Close Encounters" (or whatever they are) save David from his underwater prison, the whole emotional basis of the film is called into question since nothing is "real". David's not a real boy. The aliens aren't a real family. Everything's become a surrogate for someting else. Yet Spielberg is provocative by continuing to insist that these new stand-ins are worthy of our (and David's) emotional investment. And there's something much more humane, and much more unsettling, about this discovery than had the film cynically ended with David staring at the Blue Fairy.

When I first saw "A.I." I was afraid I was reading too much into it, but with subsequent films it's becoming clearer that this much-maligned "second ending syndrome" is part of a larger goal to foil genre conventions, to keep following the story after the plot has has stopped. It encapsulates what I love (and others hate) about "Minority Report" and "Catch Me If You Can". I love that Spielberg, the most kinetic of filmmakers, is somehow making movies that deal with how that style and form impacts how we read movies and, and just as importantly, how we read real-life.

Needless to say, I have so much invested in this theory that I almost need "Munich" to be great.

filmbrain:

Naturally, I was thinking of Kieslowski.

As for Park, I hope you turn your thoughts into a longer post. I really do need to see "Mr. Vengeance", although I was quite disappointed with the last chapter in the trilogy and makes me think I gave "Oldboy" (a film I love) far too much benefit of the doubt.

[fission mailed!!!!!]

filmbrain wrote

-QUOTE-

Adam -

Believe me when I tell you I knew you were going to post something like this.

To fully answer your question could easily turn into a separate post, but I will provide you with some thoughts I have on the subject. I'm going to limit my discussion to Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance for I feel it is the most serious meditation in the trilogy of the subject of vengeance.

As soon as the lights came up after Munich, my first thought was, Park Chan-wook did it much better. However, it's hard to really compare the two films. Avner's trail of vengeance stems from a sense of duty to his country and personal outrage about the Munich massacre. Ryu, on the other hand, is the everyman. He is both socially and politically insignificant -- so much, in fact, that he's not even given a voice. (Though many critics failed to see it, SFMV is an incredibly political film.) His path begins with a selfless (though unwise) act to save his sister's life. This of course leads to an unfortunate chain of events that results in multiple acts of vengeance sought, each with it's own unique motive. The actions (and reactions) of all the characters is never questioned -- nobody stops and thinks about what they are about to do, and there's no reflection either. That's not to say they don't suffer -- they do, visibly at times, but unlike Munich Park doesn't manipulate or lead our hand. This creates a very real tension, one that forces the viewer to find his or her place amongst a sea of characters who are flawed, but human, all too human. There's no hero of the film, and our own sympathy for Mr. vengeance may lessen given our own personal feeling about what is just or justifiable.

Park's tale can be seen as a morality play, but unlike Spielberg with his finger-wagging, Park isn't trying to teach us a lesson, nor is he condescending in any way. I was drained after SFMV. With Munich I felt as if I was back in grade school.

-END QUOTE-

That is, more welcome straight-shooting insight into his numerous issues, *in this single post* (to say nothing of the blog review), with Munich than Mike D'Angelo managed in two far longer, differently-worded, but equally tightrope-walking reviews. Kudos, filmbrain.

Yes, War of the Worlds was empty-headed trash and Chan-wook excels at revenge (just keep him away from snore-inducing material like JSA in the future, and dude´s all set).

Before he forgets, fission mailed is not out to spark a flame war over blog, merely waxing like filmbrain has done here. That is all.