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War is a beautiful death Waltz

By Vaman Muppala

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Published: Friday, December 12, 2008

Updated: Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Even the best war movies often struggle to escape the trappings of their genre. Visuals ripe with excessive gore and bombastic explosions are largely the only way filmmakers express the horrors of combat. In an age of embedded reporters and IED blasts on 24/7 cable news networks, however, this technique becomes increasingly devoid of impact and effectiveness.

Waltz with Bashir - a largely autobiographical dream of a film by Israeli director Ari Folman (Made in Israel) - conquers this shortcoming by abandoning conventional reality altogether.

"It always planned to be an animated film," Folman said in an interview with The Diamondback. "If you look at everything that is in the film ... going from realities to dreams to subconscious to hallucinations to war, which is probably the most surreal thing on Earth. So animation is the perfect way to do it."

Opening with Folman's friend Boaz's recurring war nightmares, Bashir quickly establishes that it is no mere cartoon. The film's 26 salivating dogs - seemingly straight from the underworld - will decimate any memories of Lady and the Tramp.

As Folman narrates one of the few memories he retains from war, the movie begins its near-hypnotic trance. Perfectly constructed images of three naked soldiers (Folman and two others) emerging from the water against a sky burnt yellow by warfare, combined with his rueful voiceover and somber strings, quickly establish an atmosphere of regret and fear that carries on throughout the film.

Soon after, when he meets with a therapist, Folman realizes that his mind has repressed large portions of his memories from Israel's invasion of Lebanon in 1982.

"I realized that it was the first ever for me to hear my story," Folman explained. "Then came the dream with my friend, and things started to roll."

Thus begins the central conflict of Bashir: Folman's quest to fill in the gaps in his recollections and construct a narrative of what exactly happened during the war that was traumatic enough for Folman to involuntarily repress it.

This journey for answers leads Folman to travel around the world to question his old friends. Although they would much rather forget their pasts, Folman's friends slowly begin putting together the puzzle, one disturbing piece at a time.

It is in the flashbacks of Folman's fellow soldiers that the visuals really shine. Though the images are surreal and at times absurdist, they speak volumes and carry an unexpected emotional weight.

There is a brilliant sequence in which Folman's friend, Shmuel Frenkel, performs a ballet of sorts while firing at Palestinian militants, lost in the delirium of war. Meanwhile, the television journalist Ron Ben-Yishai struts calmly through the gunfire, observing the carnage but invincible to it.

In a lesser film, this imagery simply would have been dismissed as ludicrous and unconvincing, yet Bashir achieves a sort of transcendence, and according to Folman, "nothing is too absurd in life."

The acting in Bashir is conducted by way of subtle illustration and the haunted tones of the characters' narration. Although the faces are not extremely detailed, the simply drawn lines of weariness and stubble on Folman and his friends' faces contrasted with the nubile, hopeful visages of their younger selves speaks volumes about their psychological development.

Similarly, the dialogue is sparse but very effective. Owing largely to the documentary format of the film, there are no ornaments or artifice to the speech of the characters. Nobody engages in monologues or shoots for overstated eloquence; each character simply and honestly relates what happened.

As a result, the characters act as a conduit for the emotional potency of the events themselves, rather than serving as obstructions.

Amid these individual surreal scenes, the larger narrative begins to emerge. The Israeli army is extremely perturbed by the Palestinian insurgents, and, is in a general state of confusion. In fact, Folman's orders are simply to just keep shooting.

Unfortunately - as Folman learns - this panic had very dire consequences. When Israel's Lebanese ally, Bashir Gemayel, is assassinated, the Phalangist factions loyal to him begin demanding blood. Every Israeli soldier then becomes an accessory to the genocide as they acquiesce to the Phalangist demands.

Still, Folman feels that his complex surrealist masterpiece can be understood very simply.

"The whole film is just basically the words of 'Masters of War,'" Folman asserted, referring to the Bob Dylan song. "This is it. It's the only statement coming out of the film, nothing more than that."

vmain13@umd.edu

RATING: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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