Tense and thoughtful.

Rating: 7/10 (2 January 2011)

The "hurt locker" of the title refers presumably both to the painful memories the men will carry around with them for the rest of their lives and to the plastic crate that the first sergeant (Renner) keeps under his bunk, filled with souvenirs of explosive devices he's disarmed over he year's tour of duty in Iraq.
Renner is proud of them. He's disarmed more than 700 IEDs. One of his prize items is a little snap button that blows up the man who pushes it. That takes will power.
The other two men of Bravo Company we get to know are the sergeant next in command of the detail (Mackie) who detests Renner's enthusiasm and bravery as a matter of errant impulse and who has thoughts about killing him. The third member is a grunt (Geraghty) who only wants to stay out of trouble.
The taut script is by Mark Boal and it's quite good. It avoids most of the war-movie clichés. Or, when it uses them, as during a friendly drunken punch out contest between Renner and Mackie, the laughter and grab ass gradually turn purposeful because, after all, Mackie dislikes Renner's reckless spiritedness.
There are few shots of home life. After his tour is finished, Renner goes home to his lovely wife and baby and chops carrots for dinner. Bored, he volunteers for another tour. But nobody dreams of home or talks about it. As far as Sergeant Mackie is concerned, after a piece of shrapnel has missed his neck by an inch, he remarks that "if I die out here nobody will give a **** except my mother and father but that don't count." Nobody dies slowly, gasping out a few last words, "Tell Prudence it was her all the time, ya big lug."
You know the impression of battle you take away from this film? Not that of soldiers at war, but of police officers in an extremely hostile neighborhood. A soldier is in the center of an empty public square working on a dangerous IED. He's covered by half a dozen men at a distance of about fifty yard, on the streets and on rooftops. But this is the middle of a city. The apartment houses and the tower of a mosque overlook the scene. And, after a few moments of quiet, curious civilians slowly appear on the roofs and balconies. Not many. And not threatening. Or are they? One man is pointing or aiming an object at a soldier. It looks like a video camera and probably is. But then why are the three men on the mosque tower signaling to the camera man, or are they only waving to a friend? Shouldn't you shoot them? Clearly there are enemies. Somebody planted the IEDs. But how do you tell the enemies from the innocent civilians who are waving to friends?
Even outside the city, in the middle of an arid nowhere, the detail exchanges fire at a distance with only four or five insurgents -- or "hajes", as the soldiers call them. The pitched battle is small and inconclusive. The only way of telling who "won" is by how many men walked away from it.
Nice script. Kathryn Bigelow's direction has some neat touches as well, as when a dust devil casually insinuates itself into a pause in the battle.
But I had a problem with her direction too, and it's getting to be a big one, at least for me. The camera wobbles. It skims and pans and zooms in and out pointlessly. The action is usually confusing enough. For what reason should it be compounded? But Bigelow, while no artist, has an eye for what sells and, the drunken camera work aside, she does a good job. The lens practically caresses the jumbo .50 caliber sniper's rifle. And she lingers over the clumsy task of cleaning bullets of blood from the magazine to prevent jamming.
I don't know if I'd call it a gripping movie. For all the time spent with the three principals, we don't really get to know them except for their cardinal traits. Yet it's a decently done film, and instructive as well. It deserves to be seen.