Enormously interesting tale of struggle; isolation; rejection and new found identity as a director burrows his way into the past exploring old wounds and new leases.

Rating: 8/10 (24 July 2010)

Oliver Stone's 1989 depiction of the life of true-to-life figure Ron Kovic, right up to his first mass address to a watching audience on an array of topics, arrives in the form of Born on the Fourth of July and is a superb depiction of the man's life from childhood right the way through to what he's become by way of some grotty existences and harsh realities. The thrill is in Stone's pacing of the film, the rapidness and short lived childhood in New York before the branching out into a tour of Vietnam during the war and finally slowing the entire piece down as the injuries sustained on that tour take their physical and mental toll on our lead; a toll born out of a certain president's foreign policies and their encouragement of the youth of the day to engage in activities that'll, supposedly, make a difference. I suppose the film is a part of Stone's 'rage' cannon of the late 1980s, early 1990s which saw a flurry of films released little more than twelve months or so apart from one another that attacked all manner of things America stood for; the centre piece here resembling something like John F. Kennedy's speech of it not being a case of "what your country can do for you", but something resembling vice-versa and the ill affects if that.
Kovic was drawn into the world of the U.S. Marines by way of Kennedy's speech as well as a band of recruitment officers whom visited his school campus. Fittingly, by the time another former U.S. president has arrived onto our screens, it is in the form of Nixon and by this time, we feel Kovic has found his voice in amongst all the hardships after having Kennedy essentially lead him in. Kovic's childhood is constructed as this eerily picturesque existence which comes chock full of utopian iconography representing; the winning shot in a baseball match as parents watch on is balanced with a very American celebration of Americanism and patriotism in the form of Independence day marching complete with bands and the honouring of war heroes of past. His gaze is captured as he sits atop his father's shoulders looking on at these Second World War veterans, a degree of morbid fascination perhaps filling his mind as he watches the adulation these people receive but perhaps failing to spot both the results of war some of them sport. Additionally, a war game in the opening scene descends into chaos amongst kids creating a sensation that it certainly felt like a good idea at the time, but bickering and bad form take over. As Kovic's childhood moves into adolescence, the man develops into this odd conventional figure of blind patriotism combined with Christian values and the sort whom rushes to one's school ending prom, in the rain, just in time to have this perversely romanticised dance with a childhood sweetheart.
Tom Cruise plays the role of Kovic from around this age and upward, his rough and ready look years on from his teenage years consisting of enlisting and so forth displaying a real sense of maturity in the man's acting at such an early age way back when. The innocence, or stupidity, of youth is captured when Kovic and his pals discuss military enrolment and confuse the action with links to masculinity, labelling being able to fight with other men and hold rifles as 'manly' things as the one voice whom rejects such a proposal belonging to Steve (Levine) talks of his wishes to stay behind and engage in activity of a more culinary nature, specifically: the running of a diner; actions perhaps more associated with the female of the species, if looking through the narrow slats possessed by the majority of these boys. Stone shoots most of these early exchanges colourfully and lovingly, sprinkling Kovic's life with the odd come-down in the form of a defeat to a rival school in a mat wrestling match after so much training and graft; foreshadowing the let down or frustration born out of believing in something so much to a point, with his post-Vietnam life resembling a greater extension of these thoughts and feelings.
Our first look in at a kind of post Vietnam existence is a grimy and colourless Bronx set hospital for the veterans, a systematic look at how veterans of said war are both treated and how many of them struggle from the off in their dealing with this new found scenario. Twinned with this is the guilt Kovic himself carries with him following an accidental shooting of a friendly marine out in Vietnam in the aftermath of a firefight. Where Kovic finds solace in this new existence, after the establishing of how he must now lead his life following paralysis from the waist down, is political rallying and making things known to those ill-informed on events in the war. This is a result of a domestic disagreement with a family member as well as with Steve, who has since gone on to carve a decent enough life out of staying behind, like he said he would, to work at a diner. Stone directs the piece masterfully, changing gears in tempo and pace to suit the ease and toughness in which life travels by; shooting parts of Mexico the Vietnam veterans descend to in order to drown out life's newfound problems with this very warm, very welcoming feel; of which the segment begins with a deliberately appealing establishing shot of a good looking beach before we head on in and get more involved with what sordid activity is going on. A veteran of said war himself, and here emotionally bringing to life the experiences of another, Born on the Fourth of July is a weighty and involving film of impressive magnitude from Stone.