Kathryn Bigelow makes bomb disposal frighteningly clear, with Jeremy Renner giving the danger a troubling appeal. We recommend this tense, forceful war thriller, though its supporting soldiers deserve more of the attention given to their work.
Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker is an unusually persuasive war thriller, and we recommend it with one reservation: some of its soldiers deserve more attention. Staff Sergeant William James, played by Jeremy Renner, disposes of bombs in Iraq and finds something in the danger that he wants to repeat. Mark Boal’s screenplay makes that appetite central to the film. The difficult question is how much we come to share it.
Bigelow takes the practical business of bomb disposal seriously enough to let it occupy the film, without hurrying towards the next explosion. Barry Ackroyd’s handheld cinematography keeps us close to the work without making the action unreadable. Editors Bob Murawski and Chris Innis preserve a clear sense of where people are and what they are doing, so the tension survives each change of shot. We can follow the task and still have no confidence that it will be completed safely.
We were frightened by the bomb-disposal sequences because understanding the men’s actions gives us so much time to worry about them. Confusion would make it easier to disengage, but Bigelow keeps the task legible and the outcome uncertain. The men’s judgement matters, and the film gives us time to think about what might follow a mistake. At 131 minutes, it demands sustained concentration, which these passages amply repay.
Renner is the reason the film can make this exhausting work look desirable. His James enjoys danger, and Renner does not play that enjoyment as an invitation to diagnose him. We can see the attraction of his company even as his judgement gives us reasons to worry. Anthony Mackie, as Sergeant JT Sanborn, and Brian Geraghty, as Specialist Owen Eldridge, keep the team from becoming merely an audience for its most conspicuous member. Their performances make us consider what it costs to work alongside him.
Paul Joyal and Karl Júlíusson’s production design gives the work a credible, unwelcoming setting. The surroundings never seem conveniently arranged to make the soldiers’ tasks easier to follow; that is the camera and editing doing their jobs. Marco Beltrami and Buck Sanders’s music adds unease without making James sound like a man we should applaud. It is effective support for suspense that already has plenty to work with in the men’s behaviour.
Boal is less successful at giving the supporting soldiers the same interest he gives their predicament. They register as people under pressure, but the screenplay does not always take us much further than that. The narrow attention to the American unit also means that this account of war in Iraq offers little sense of life beyond the soldiers’ immediate concerns. That limit is worth accepting, though the film’s confidence can make its view of the conflict seem more complete than it is.
War thrillers often invite admiration for people who can keep going under pressure. Bigelow complicates that response by asking what happens when the pressure itself becomes desirable. Her interest in James survives the underwritten supporting parts, and Renner makes him worth sustained attention even when he is difficult company. Choose an evening when being put at ease is not the point.
