Paul Greengrass’ true life films
have always been better than his fictional ones, if only because the raw
immediacy and documentary-style camerawork that has become his trademark seems
more significant attached to non-fiction rather than Bourne spy stories. Bloody
Sunday and United 93 (and Omagh, which he produced) are
important films, and all the more engrossing for impacting and commenting upon
the real world – in both cases, these films are about human suffering and
extreme, high pressure situations. Captain Phillips is a welcome return
to non-fiction, a powerful, suspenseful thriller that is all the more riveting
for having something to say about a real world problem.
Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks, in a
game changing role) and his crew of twenty people are sailing around the Horn
of Africa, into dangerous waters full of Somali pirates, in a huge cargo ship.
On 8 April 2009, four Somali pirates boarded his ship and held the crew
hostage. The film shows what happened next during the five-day ordeal.
Captain Phillips is, in
some ways, an inversion of the classic underdog story. Though fraught with
tension, the sequence in which Muse (Barkhad Abdi) and his fellow pirates
(Barkhad Abdirahman, Faysal Ahmed and Mahat M. Ali) successfully board a ship
much bigger than the little speedboat they pursued it in is hard to watch
without feeling slightly impressed. Similarly, the film is not entirely
concerned with Captain Phillips’ experiences alone. Where Zero Dark Thirty uses
cinematic language in a rather fascist way, allowing the perspective to be
limited to Americans alone, Greengrass’ is much more democratic. Early scenes
are frequently mirrored, showing that both Phillips and Muse are under pressure
from their bosses. As the pressure builds, we often see the tough decisions
weighing on Muse as well as Phillips. In the end, the film offers sympathy to
both sides of a difficult situation, increasingly drawing parallels between
Phillips and Muse to suggest a wider problem that neither is responsible for.
Western overfishing and the
resultant lack of opportunity in Somalia are briefly mentioned, demonstrating
that Somali pirates are far from black-and-white villains and that the West,
and globalisation in general, is culpable. These shades of grey are important
to note, giving an ironic slant to the film’s many images of American military
power. The film shows that American military might is immense, with warships,
drones, helicopters and the Navy SEALS all making an appearance. What could
appear as a Zero Dark Thirty-style celebration of American power, or a
PR campaign to justify America’s policing of the world, is instead presented
critically. The film sympathises with the plight of the pirates, showing them
as just as trapped as Phillips, if not more so. By the end of the film, without
giving too much away if you don’t know the outcome to the real world story,
they are so overmatched that there is no way for them to escape. The American
military response seems so overbearing and so one-sided that it is difficult to
see them as simply peacekeepers or rescuers – indeed, their capabilities and
actions are rather frightening. The film is essentially a tragic story in which
the American military does not so much as save the day as bring even more pain
to an already desperate victim of the West. The pirates are ultimately the
underdogs in the story, but it is not a heart-warming one.
However, this is not to say that
the Americans are unsympathetic – Greengrass’ cinema is not as simplistic as
that. The film is called Captain Phillips after all and Hanks turns in a
brilliant performance as everyman Phillips, trapped in a terrible situation and
improvising as best he can. The tense showdown between him and Muse on board
the MV Maersk Alabama (Phillips’ ship) is fascinating, with Phillips testing
how far he can go to protect his ship and his men before the pirates start
getting violent. At the end of the film, when it is all over, Greengrass slows
down the pace to focus on the human suffering caused, a powerful, brilliant
scene that reveals that all along Captain Phillips was an essentially
humanist film beneath all the thriller screw-tightening. Like Bloody Sunday and
United 93 before it, Captain Phillips is a powerful and
respectful film concerned with discovering the human experience in some of the
worst situations imaginable. Rather than judging, his films try to understand.
Captain Phillips is,
hence, a brilliantly constructed and suspenseful thriller but also an
emotionally devastating insight into a real world problem. It avoids taking
sides or celebrating in the West’s power, instead showing the humanity and
desperation that any black-and-white dichotomy would have to ignore. In other
words, Greengrass makes thrillers in which you care about every character and
in which the violent resolution is far from triumphant, only tragic, leaving
behind only a detritus of human suffering on both sides. It is emotionally
powerful because it does not guide us towards easy answers and happy endings,
and its effect – as thriller and as a plea against simplistic readings of such
crises - is extremely difficult to shrug off.
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