Monday, January 25, 2010

Born on the Fourth of July (1989)


Directed by Oliver Stone
Written by Ron Kovic and Oliver Stone

Rated R for war violence, sexual themes and nudity

"Born on the Fourth of July" is based on the true story of the man who wrote it: Ron Kovic, a disabled Vietnam veteran. Oliver Stone, a Vietnam veteran himself, helped Kovic adapt his story into an epic movie that won two Academy Awards (Best Director, Editing) and redefined the term "war film".

Now I've been watching a lot of Mr. Stone's films lately. By 1989, he had already made one of the ultimate Vietnam war films: "Platoon". While "Platoon" focused on the hell our boys faced in 'Nam itself, most of the runtime of "Born on the Fourth of July" deals with a more holistic Vietnam experience, including the environmental and social pressures that pushed Kovic to enlist in the first place.

The film's pre-war segment is filled with images of American pride: boys playing war in the woods near their house, little league and wrestling meets, 4th of July parades and Prom dates. I was a little concerned that this was going to be a pro-war movie when it started, but Stone injects enough foreboding into the patriotic scenes to keep them believable. For instance, in one scene young Ronnie is at a 4th of July parade with his family, watching the disabled veterans march (or roll, as many of them are in wheelchairs) in the parade. As Ronnie watches, he notices that one of the disabled vets flinches agitatedly at the sound of childrens' fireworks.

The theme of war supporters denying the undeniable pervades the first half of the film. Ronnie's motto for much of the film is "Love it or leave it." As a member of a southern society that values the military as one of the nation's defining institutions, Ronnie and the people around him have bought the Vietnam lie (that Vietnam was even a remote threat to the safety of US citizens) hook line and sinker. Ronnie receives a "hot tip" in high school that indicates that Vietnam will be resolved quickly, and decides to join up so he doesn't "miss it".

When Ronnie enlists, his black and white world of Kennedy-esque family values versus evil communist oppression becomes cloudy and gray. In the heat of the battle, Ronnie ultimately becomes responsible for the deaths of Vietnamese women and children, as well as one of his own platoon-mates. When Ronnie tries to take responsibility for the friendly fire, his commanding officer insists that he's mistaken, that he didn't kill one of his own men. Confused and unsettled, Ronnie "stands down" like a good soldier.

Four years later, the war supporters in the film still insist "We're gonna win that war." The shift from "this war" to "that war" indicates that people who had supported the war are gradually beginning to distance themselves from it. After thousands of young mens' lives had been lost without gaining any tangible advantage over an unseen enemy, Vietnam was beginning to seem like a very bad investment for the US.

But Ronnie remains proud of the war efforts, even to the point of alienating his own younger brother for criticizing the war. Ronnie hangs on to his pro-war attitude so fiercely (even after being paralyzed in battle) in part because of his deep love for his country. Unfortunately, Ronnie grew up in a time (much like the recent Bush's presidency) when being anti-war was considered being anti-American. While his love for his country never falters, Ronnie slowly begins to see that Vietnam was a mistake, and that he can hate his country's policies without sacrificing his love for the good things that America represents. 

The bright, crisp, clean imagery of the first half of the film stands in stark contrast to the gritty, organic aesthetics of Ronnie's post-war experience. After two hellish tours of duty abroad, Ronnie returns home to veteran's hospitals that have been nearly bankrupted by the war efforts. Ronnie receives care from people who don't care about the war or appreciate Ronnie's sacrifice. He faces the indignity of catheters, dialysis, and diaper changes in a hospital with too many rats and not enough funding.

Ronnie is told he will never walk again. More importantly (at least to Ron) he will never again be sexually functional. The loss of the use of his penis is extremely symbolic. He joined the marines because it was his understanding that this was a necessary step to becoming a man. Ironically, his time in the military cost him his manhood. He now must rely on assistance for even the smallest and most personal tasks. The indignity of going from a pretty-boy up-and-coming war hero to being a paralyzed, marginalized veteran of an increasingly unpopular war cuts Ron deep. He becomes depressed, alcoholic and self-destructive. At one point Ronnie declares that he would abandon all of his values if he could only be whole again.

When he finally gets discharged from the hospital, he returns to his hometown. At first Ron tries to ignore his paralysis, insisting that he's the same Ron he's always been. It's only after seeing the concerned faces of his old friends and family that he realizes things will never be normal again. His mother can barely look at him without crying. His old friends try to comfort Ronnie, but it's clear that they are hurt and angered by the sight of Ronnie in a wheelchair.

After a fall-out with his family, Ron moves to Mexico, where he meets another wheelchair-bound vet (Willem Dafoe) who helps him drown his sorrows in liquor and sex. Of course, neither men can feel their penises, making for some bittersweet sex. One of the most emotionally-charged moments features Tom Cruise crying like a baby while a Mexican prostitute services him sexually.


Upon his return to the states, Ron hooks up with an old girlfriend, who is now an anti-war protester. Needing to feel needed, Ronnie joins up to help the anti-war cause. As a wheelchair-bound vet, Ronnie has a strong voice with which to speak out against war. He has finally faced his demons and uses his experience to keep other young men from being urged into similar fates. The film climaxes with a riot at the National Republican's Convention between anti-war protesters and police. Stone's powerful cinematography suggests a strong parallel between this riot scene and Kovic's war experience, as if to say "This is the new war, and America is the new battleground".

The film's music is generally good. John Williams does a typical John Williams-esque score (which sounds to me a little like Leia's theme from Star Wars), but it is far from his best work. Luckily, the soundtrack also incorporates 50's and 60's radio hits like "Brown-Eyed Girl", "American Pie", "My Girl", "Born on the Bayou" and "Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall". The sound design really helped sell the film as well. Most notably, the sound of helicopters and a crying baby become symbolic of Kovic's fatal mistakes in 'Nam, and return to haunt him throughout his physical and emotional recovery.

The film's visuals were the best I've seen from Oliver Stone since "Natural Born Killers". The cinematography is gripping and intense, and simply must be seen to be fully appreciated.

The biggest success of the film is that Stone actually elicited a great performance from Tom Cruise. This pre-Scientology Cruise demonstrates more acting range and ability than we have seen from him before or since. He goes from charming and attractive to pathetic and disgusting to renewed and enlightened in a realistic and empathetic manner.

I give "Born on the Fourth of July" a 10/10. It's biggest faults were its length (at 2h 20m, I feel this film could have been edited down a bit without losing much character development) and the inappropriate intrusion of John William's cheesy love-theme during the riot scene. I am willing to overlook these faults because this is overall one of the best war films I've ever seen, and even more poignant for being based on true events.















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