Michael Cimino’s war drama earns its emotional force through the friendships it takes time to establish. Robert De Niro and Christopher Walken are compelling, though the length and occasional heavy-handedness ask more patience than the film always repays.
The Deer Hunter is a powerful, deeply affecting war drama, with performances that make most of its 183 minutes worth the time. Michael Cimino gives the men’s friendships room to develop, asking us to care about their ordinary lives before the Vietnam War puts those bonds under pressure. He is particularly good at showing how much importance men place on one another without knowing quite how to express it. The patience can be wearing, but there is a reason for it.
The extended wedding sequence is where that patience pays off. Cimino lets a working-class celebration occupy more space than its immediate importance to the plot would seem to warrant, and gradually the length begins to make sense. We were moved by the wedding because the time spent together makes these people feel close to us. By refusing to hurry towards the fighting, he gives us something to care about beyond the question of who can survive it.
Robert De Niro’s Michael and Christopher Walken’s Nick make the men’s closeness persuasive without tidying it into an easily explained friendship. De Niro brings a firmness that can look reassuring and then stubborn; Walken is harder to read, and our attention keeps returning to him. Their performances make the weight placed on this bond feel justified, even when the writing leans towards romantic melodrama. They convince us that these men matter enormously to each other.
Meryl Streep’s Linda supplies a quieter sort of feeling. Streep is direct and restrained, and she holds our attention without competing with the more forceful performances around her. We wanted more room for her, partly because Cimino’s concentration on male endurance can leave the people surrounding the men at the edge of the film. She is a reason to stay attentive even when the film slows.
Vilmos Zsigmond’s cinematography establishes a sharp contrast between the beauty of everyday life and the horror of combat. That contrast helps explain why the film spends so long away from the fighting, rather than making the civilian passages seem like preliminary business. Peter Zinner’s editing gives the wedding time to develop, but the wider rhythm is uneven, with passages that continue after their emotional purpose is clear. We felt the length most when the film kept pressing a feeling it had already made us understand.
Stanley Myers’s music is most effective when it supports the tenderness of the performances. Its gentleness is welcome in a film that can work so hard to distress us. Deric Washburn’s screenplay sometimes arranges suffering too insistently, and the attempt to give these men’s experiences such enormous importance can make the drama feel manipulated. The actors usually persuade us to accept it, but the quieter scenes are convincing without needing that extra pressure.
As a war film, The Deer Hunter succeeds because civilian life receives such serious attention. The combat matters more once the people caught in it have been allowed to exist outside it, with friendships that mean something to us. Cimino earns enough of the film’s anguish for us to recommend it despite the overlength and occasional bullying of our emotions. Choose an evening when you can give it your full attention, and do not expect an easy night’s viewing.
