(This is what I thought/hoped District 9 would be. Namely, as remarkable as the effusive critics were claiming. )
From the start, this movie wholly engaged my attention. I feared every bystander, worried about what was behind every corner, who was just out of frame and what were they going to do. I was struck by how intentional this had to have been -- that the audience was supposed to experience the uncertainity that the soldiers did. Is this the moment where they die? You won't know until it happens. There is no swelling soundtrack, no solitary one-dimensional bad guy against which to rail and no doe-eyed rookie who bites it thus sending our hero into an adversary-murdering fury that buoys our own blood-thirsty revenge fantasies and upon reflection should shame us for wishing other human beings were lying in a pool of their own spilled blood. Characters, who you as a movie-goer assume are now going to become part of the story, die in an instant with no fanfare, no melodramatic angst and no particular spotlight shone on what just happened. The absence of scripted response to the death leaves us as the audience to more fully engage in our own response -- whatever that may be -- for ourselves.
The movie was clear its message was that war can be a drug, and it showed soldiers' perspectives without forcing a traditional story structure onto their experiences. When they clashed, it was organic and raw. When they connected, it was just as raw and natural. Which is how the whole movie seemed to be. This is what happens. That's just the way it's going to be. This made it compelling, distressing and indescribably poignant. Verdict: First Run Theatre - Go Now
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