Grade: B/C
In light of White House adviser Karl Rove’s recent meeting with studio heads to discuss ways in which the entertainment industry can help boost American morale, “Behind Enemy Lines” offers an interesting glimpse of the future — films that wear their hearts on their sleeves, right next to a giant patch of the American flag.
Monomaniacal, unconscionably uncouth, yet strangely watchable, “Behind Enemy Lines” is at the same time rousing and upsetting in its jingoist tunnel-vision.
The film’s premise is based on the story of downed-USAF pilot Scott O’Grady, but like so many middling Stallone/Schwarzenegger vehicles, it mainly serves to pit an ?ber-American protagonist against an interchangeable horde of ethnic stereotypes.
But there’s a catch here. In place of a sneering drawl or rippling pectorals, our hero instead has a crooked nose and wry smile. Instead of being emotionally impenetrable and morbidly gung-ho, the good guy is scared for his life and vulnerable.
After his plane is shot down over a remote Bosnian province while on a photo-recon mission, Navy pilot Chris Barnett (played by the oft-underrated Owen Wilson, “Zoolander”) is told to “evade and survive” until his fellow troopers can pick him up. Adm. Leslie Riegart (Gene Hackman, “Unforgiven”) would like nothing more than to send in reinforcements to bring his boy home, but in doing so would cause an unneeded skirmish and disruption of peace processes.
The ensuing hour-long climax crosscuts between Barnett literally running for his life from menacing eastern European baddies, and Riegart spouting pseudo-Aaron Sorkin-style military jargon as he attempts to maneuver for authority.
Regardless of how horribly miscast he was, its hard not to root for Wilson in this role. An infamous improviser and smart-ass, his problem stems from the fact that he’s got no one with whom to exchange verbal jabs and quips. He’s able to bring out a heretofore unseen intensity, but even great actors like Wilson and Hackman can only do so much with a paper-thin script and incompetent directing.
It certainly doesn’t help that the camera never remains on its two capable leads long enough for either of them to save the film. Greenhorn John Moore directs with a kinetic brashness, making it seem like he fears losing his membership in the MTV fan-club if he holds the camera stable for more than a split-second.
The film entertains for a bit, but then devolves into 80s-style machismo when Wilson becomes the invincible action-movie-everyman. The enemy is, of course, portrayed as calculating and heartless, a collective of cigarette-smoking clich?s too clueless to send its full forces after Barnett and too inept to hit him with automatic weapons from close range.
The road will most likely only get bumpier for war movies. With people like Bruckheimer/Bay no doubt licking their chops for the chance to exploit America’s heightened emotional state, “Behind Enemy Lines” provides another unfortunate sign that the worst is yet to come.
