The Hurt Locker opens with words by Chris Hedges: “The rush of battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for war is a drug.” The quote slowly fades, but “war is a drug” remains in its spot. The film then cuts to the opening shot, but the disappeared words stay with the viewer. They linger until the very end of the film and for days after that.
The Hurt Locker was recently named the winner of the 2009 Academy Award for Best Picture, and its director, Kathryn Bigelow, became the first woman to win the Best Director award.  Well deserved, I say.  Incredible performances, well-earned suspense, perfect camera work, and exhilarating action all contribute to one of the greatest war pictures to date.

When US Army Sergeant First Class Will James takes over a highly trained bomb disposal team amidst violent conflict, he surprises his two subordinates, Sergeant JT Sanborn and Specialist Owen Eldridge, by recklessly plunging them into a deadly game of urban combat. The thrill of the dismantlement seems to be James’ ultimate goal regardless of the safety of his fellow team members, others on the scene, or himself.  For him, war is a drug.  But Sanborn and Eldridge are just trying to survive their last few days of duty and get home. As the men struggle to control their wild new leader, the city explodes into chaos, and James’ true character reveals itself in a way that will change each man forever.

An intense portrayal of elite soldiers who have the dangerous jobs of disarming bombs in the heat of combat, the film’s narrative drive hangs on the amount of time left in their rotation in Iraq, but the script hangs on a series of set pieces that illustrate the emotional give and take between the men as they go out every day and hope to live until nightfall. The most refreshing aspect of the film is in Bigelow’s ability to capture and make her audience feel exactly what an American soldier experiences in the center of danger. 

The Hurt Locker dares to go where not many other suspense-driven films have gone. There are no cheap suspense shots—nothing jumps out at the audience, no increasingly high-pitched music plays during a bomb defusing. Instead the best and thickest suspense occurs simply through showing what is going on.  Some of the most edge-of-your-seat moments are not of the actual bomb defusing, but of the shots of the townspeople looking on. Instead of focusing on James and the bomb that could detonate at any moment, the camera will shift back and forth between the gazes of these locals, Sanborn and Eldridge, who know that one of these people could, in fact, be the bomb detonator. Are they enemies?  Are they friendly? It is difficult to tell. That, my friends, is suspense at its finest. The audience doesn’t need dozens of buildings blowing up to identify with the dangers involved. James disarming a bomb while the viewer watches in silent desperation is enough action to propel the film to a level of gasping-for-air tension.

Although The Hurt Locker features well-known names and Oscar nominated talent such as Ralph Fiennes, Guy Pearce, and David Morse, their roles are limited, each receiving only a few minutes of screen time. The film relies on three relatively unknown actors, and not one falls short of an incredible performance.

James is played by Jeremy Renner, who has had minor roles in films such as North Country, 28 Weeks Later, and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Renner  becomes his character, revealing both inside and out.  He doesn’t say much, but through his actions and mannerisms, the drive behind his need to defuse bombs is clear: it is a thrill ride that consumes him. Sanford could be screaming at him through a walkie-talkie, or Eldridge could be cowering in a corner, consumed by fear, but James will ignore all of it. He is in an oblivious state when he is with a bomb, one of intense focus and exhilaration. Renner brilliantly portrays James as a tortured man anguished by what he has become, but unable and unwilling to change.

The “hurt locker” of the title can refer to a number of different aspects of the plot and of war itself.  In Iraq, it is soldier vernacular to speak of explosions as sending one to “the hurt locker.”  The title could also refer to James’ collection of detonators from bombs he’s taken apart, fragments of wire, and paraphernalia. “This box is full of stuff that almost killed me,” James says to his team in one of the more memorable scenes.  James keeps the collection under his bed like a good luck charm, but also because he knows he can’t live without the memories it contains.

Sanborn, a wonderfully moving character, is played flawlessly by Anthony Mackie of Notorious. His contrast to James is one of a classic battle between one who does it by the books and one who says, “to hell with the rules, I’m doing it my way because my way is better.” Sanborn radiates intelligence as he argues and pleads against James’s bravado. Mackie’s ice-cold delivery elevates his character above the clichéd “I hate you but respect you” sentiment. Sanborn acts as the hero in the film, the character whom the audience can identify with, and Mackie wonderfully portrays him as a man who has simply had enough.

Eldridge, who represents the young minds who simply shouldn’t be fighting in a war, is played by Brian Geraghty, who manages another inspiring performance. Eldridge is reliable, but does not handle himself very well under the intense fear involved in his deadly job. The journey of his character is perhaps the most intriguing. His character is perfectly unstable. When Eldridge tells James, “fuck you,” he clearly means it, and Geraghty delivers the line with such brutally honest conviction that the viewer senses an unrivaled emotional pain behind his words.

The Hurt Locker is extraordinary filmmaking from pensive beginning to tragic end, and it is worthy of the awards it received.  It is compelling, a visually and emotionally stunning film, one fated to echo in audiences’ minds for years to come. Rent, buy, borrow- do whatever you have to do to see this film.

by Amanda Whitaker ‘12