As Deeply Flawed As It Is, I'd Still Take Kubrick's 'Nam Vision Over Stone's

Rating: 9/10 (28 June 2006)

Of all the films spanning Stanley Kubrick's career, 1987's Full Metal Jacket has to be the weakest and most unorthodox of efforts, excluding his feature-length debut Fear and Desire. This was the director's penultimate work, and the one which holds testament to an artist's ability to embrace the fundamental genres of contemporary cinema. Such versatility is surely commendable; nevertheless, Kubrick unwittingly crafted what many would agree to be the worst of his career. In a decade of numerous anti-war features, produced in the aftermath of the Vietnam War, it is hard understanding why someone of Kubrick's calibre actually made this predicament of whimsical proportions. That is not to say this is not something of good intentions, but rather a work which drives its message home to such a degree that it conflicts the nature of its artist.
Released seven years following The Shining, Full Metal Jacket marked the second Kubrick picture of the '80s. Twelve years later, Eyes Wide Shut was released posthumously a few months following Kubrick's death. I say this simply to note that Kubrick fortunately avoided finishing on such a questionable feature. The project was first penned in 1980, with the director considering directing a holocaust study, but eventually he opted for something Vietnam based. Two years later, the director stumbled upon The Short-Timers; a retrospective, semi-autobiographical novel written by war veteran Gustav Hasford. Screenwriter Michael Herr (previously famed for his other Vietnam screenplay, Apocalypse Now) was asked to write an adapted screenplay and while originally reluctant to do so, he eventually agreed. The screenplay eventually earned him an Academy Award nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay.
Prior to filming, Kubrick spent many years researching the entire period of war; pouring over memoirs, documentaries, newspaper cuttings and any related information which could possibly contribute to the overall accuracy of the project. His commitment and dedication to being informed was a tradition Kubrick adopted before embarking on any film-making venture. As with Paths of Glory, it is purportedly claimed that Kubrick was not concerned in shaping a manifestation of anti-war, but instead wanted to matter-of-factly depict the nature of war, i.e. men transformed into killers.
Commencing with a montage of young army recruits having their hair shaved off (allegory for the beginnings of dehumanisation), you instantly recognise that you are watching something relatively unique. The sudden cut to the army barracks, the stillness of the blank room and the abrupt barrage of profanity directed at the troops from Sgt. Hartman is both timidly amusing and brusquely alarming. It is the first 45 minutes of Full Metal Jacket which projects a mirage of greatness, with the whole time spent depicting the metamorphosis of young men turned born-again killing machines. This first act is in complete odds with the latter act; when the troops are placed in the combat zone. The film suddenly becomes desperately obnoxious, revolving around grown men making puerile jokes at each other and running around Vietnam aimlessly, with no conscience. I personally believe that the narrative should have remained in the barracks for the duration, simply presenting the viewer with the development of the soldiers, instead of also incorporating their war experiences.
It is hard to pinpoint the exact problems with Full Metal Jacket, but I think, for the most part, it comes down to its inconsistencies. For one, very little actually occurs throughout the runtime and there is an icy lack of humanity in many of the scenes, but not in the comprehendible, Kubrickian way. Its ideologies and pathos are concealed by a desire to litter so many scenes with narcissistic humour, and so the audience looses its respect for the characters. On the other hand, the performances are, with all reason, up to scratch; particularly those performances from R. Lee Ermey as the inescapable drill-instructor and Vincent D'Onofrio's role as his pitiful victim. Beyond those two performances lies little else on the acting front, with most of the other performers' roles being compromised of heroic despondency and lashings of misunderstood cynicism. Most of all, the message of the film is entirely jumbled and to such an extent that it is in fact difficult to decipher the underlying crux of the ordeal. One thing is for certain that Kubrick perfectly demonstrates how much of a transformation regular men go through before entering war. Such is perhaps the only way man could cope with such a deathly periphery of mouldering principles.
This is very much a work of undermined greatness, a meagre example of something which could have been great, but eventually became a rambling mishap, fuelled by ill-defined notions of grandeur. Throughout the '80s there was a string of hefty and effusive Vietnam pictures, some were good and some were bad. The ironic, tight-fisted Full Metal Jacket lay in the midst of it all and many acknowledged that it contained a concept which could have been so much more.