U-571

Ladies and gentlemen, "U-571" is a kick-ass film. It is not a great film, mainly because it lacks plausible characters, its plot is absolutely ludicrous, and its dialogue could not possibly be any more hackneyed. But "U-571" does not tell a story that requires any of those things to be perfect. Rather, "U-571" celebrates manly men, yelling at each other in a manly manner, commanding enormous ships of war which are attempting to destroy or avoid destruction by other enormous ships of war. And it tells this story spectacularly well, bringing a full load of entertainment with it. It is easily the most successful movie of this type since "Armageddon," back in 1998. In other words, "U-571" does not achieve greatness. But it sure does kick ass.

First of all, you gotta love the plot. It's the middle of World War II. Americans want the German code machine Enigma so that they can understand German radio transmissions. They decide that the best way to do this is to have an American crew man a captured German vessel and pose as a supply submarine to an incapacitated German vessel. They'll simply drive up, pretend to be German, beat all the Nazis up and take the code machine. "A straight Trojan horse operation," one operative calls it, apparently without irony. Obviously, possible complications abound here, and getting out of various troubles when those possibilities become realities is what this movie is all about.

Johnathan Mostow's directorial style carries the day here. He wastes not a second on unnecessary exposition, preferring to throw us right into the blinding pace and incomprehensible jargon of submarine operations and make the audience catch up. There is just enough explanation of submarine operations, eventually, that we do not feel left out of the fun, but not so much as to detract from the all-powerful momentum of this movie. His camera moves constantly during times of great activity, giving us the feeling that we're right in the submarine with the crew. Besides upping the tension, the peripatetic camera work makes the times when Mostow anchors the camera in place and allows dread to creep into the motionless silences much more effective. Mostow's camera also caresses the submarine, showing it from every possible angle, giving us a real feel for its mass, how it moves through the water, how unexpectedly fragile it can be when it is subjected to repeated gigantic explosions at close range. Mostow has a real feel for the pulse of a rip-roaring action film, expertly slowing down and speeding up and spacing violent incidents to alternate hope, dread, tension and triumph.

Attention must be also paid to the work of the sound crew, Gregg Landaker, Steve Maslow and Ivan Sharrock. Normally, sound crews labor in obscurity, but this one shouldn't. These talented men have created a soundscape that is both believable and spectacular. They have mastered both the subtle creak of a pipe in the distance and the death's bass drum of a series of depth charges detonating steadily closer to a submarine. And finally, your reviewer must confess that he does not actually know what a torpedo blowing up thousands of tons of warship sounds like, but he is convinced that if it doesn't actually sound like a low, low bell tolling for the end of the world, as it does in this movie, it damn well should.

Acting is not real important when you have a sound like that in your movie, but a couple of the thespians who donated their talents deserve mention. Matthew McConaughey is the putative main character, the executive officer who must assume command when the captain is killed. He successfully avoids being annoying and looks good in the uniform, which is all that is asked of him. Harvey Keitel as a senior officer is his usual craggy, wise self. The rest of the characters are pretty much forgettable, although it is nice to see an action movie that does not obsess about the fact that its token black character is black, but simply has him do his job with efficiency and skill.

"U-571" achieves a very rare feat for an action film. It so captures your attention, raises your blood pressure, engages every visual and aural nerve in your body, and catapults you from emotion to emotion by use of spectacle that when you leave the theater, you completely forget about the various slings and arrows of outrageous fortune common to everyday life. In fact, you can't think about anything at all, except perhaps how you're going to walk out of the theater after your body has been tense for 90 minutes. As college students, we could all probably use a film like that. "U-571" is not an intelligent movie, but it is a damn good time.

STORY OF MY REVIEWING LIFE

As the lights came up on this one, and I started rearranging my body because I thought I might have to stand up soon, I heard a voice. I could immediately identify it as a film critic, because it came out of a fat white man and oozed condescension. "Well, that was much worse than I expected," he said. His companion said something to him, and he replied, "Well, it's rare that you see a film that badly directed." I wanted to lean over and grab him by his collar and shake some sense into him. "What the hell are you talking about?" I would have said."This film is freaking awesome! I don't care what your bourgeois sensibility thinks about it, this film is the [expletive]!"

Anyway, so it was that I composed the first paragraph of this review as I walked back to the Friendship Heights metro from General Cinema Butt Heaven. I wish I could attach an MP3 of me reading it in my usual clarion tones and with my usual measured pace, cause it do sound good. But unfortunately, I cannot.

Well, I could do that now, but the passion for it has passed.

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