Munich is political. It can't help but
be, given it's origins. Spielberg gets us off to a running start with
a jarring blast of actual and filmed footage of the 1972 hostage
taking at the Munich Olympic games.
Two Israelies were killed, nine
more held under the gun by the Palestinian militant group, Black
September. Their release depended on what seems a familiar quid pro quo
by today's standards: you let our guys go, we give you yours.
But after
a botched rescue attempt, the remaining nine were killed as well.
Munich breezes through these events in the opening minutes of the film.
The rest is inspired by what is known of the history that followed. A
re-creation? A dramatisation? Unsure. Somewhere between birth and
American Idol 3, I've felt uneasy about calling anything on the big or
small screen real.
Nevertheless, it's a starting point for Spielberg's
newest war of the worlds, though in this one Cruise couldn't even turn
a victory.
Anyone with a five o'clock news working knowledge of the world
should be able to follow Munich without much chin rubbing. Location
names, military acronyms and political bigwigs whose names you've heard
more times than 'Twist and Shout' but still can't seem to nail down are
here, but don't obstruct.
The film begins as a familiar cat and mouse
thriller off the cuff of Apocalypse Now. Eric Bana (Troy, The Hulk) is
Avner, Munich's Captain Willard, a relatively unknown agent of Mossad,
Israel's intelligence agency. He's brought into a hive of political and
military higher ups and offered a mission; to find and kill the 11 men
pegged as Munich's planners and sympathisers.
He's given a team, four
others useful in one way or another (watch a memorable Daniel Craig
before he goes Bond), and they set out across Europe, looking for their
own Kurtzes.
As a men-on-a-mission story, Munich is unique in that the men are
passably knowledgeable in their fields but not experts. Even Avner, who
leads the mission, lives more by his duty to god and country than a
noticeable skill set. He's less the calculating assassin than a loving
husband and father who often brings the personal to the professional.
The group is under orders to avoid peripheral casualties but when one
target's young daughter unexpectedly breaks into the killing zone,
Avner's reaction comes more from a father's heart than an assassins.
The other members follow suit, bickering, stumbling, never quite
perfecting their art, but always with a human dimension.
It carries the
film early on, but as the mission heats up, all but Avner become
unknowable to the effect that when the hunters become the hunted, you
might not so much care.
Bana is effective as Avner. But he's more
convincing as a husband, father than as a soldier eventually twisted by
his misdeeds. By the time he returns from the mission, the hollow-eyed
walking dead look doesn't hold its weight. There were moments that
could have pulled a Heart of Darkness on Avner, though they didn't
convince at the time. A disappointment. In as much as we can know about
these people, in this world, Munich gives an authentic impression
more than a personal one.
What others might see as missing though, is a payoff. In "large
Hollywood butter-sopping popcorn 10 gallon diuretic portioned soft
drink" terms, this would mean satisfying an obvious goal or
objective....killing all 11 targets for example.
You won't find it.
Spielberg begins the film as an assassination tale, and on the heels of
the Munich massacre footage, creates an undercurrent of sympathy for
the athletes, for Israel, for Avner and his squad, perhaps even for the
Jewish people. But it doesn't hold.
Initially, the supposed villains,
the targets, are unknown to us, just black and white photos slapped on
a table top, easy to point a disapproving finger at. But Spielberg
slowly undoes any assumptions of partisanship by weaving in opposing
viewpoints, giving all sides a fair say. The only question is, is what
they have to say fair?
It's this gradual transformation of appearances,
of who these players are, what they're achieving, and how they're
choosing to achieve it that makes Munich an important film. The
messages against ideologically-motivated terrorism aren't new: revenge
begets retaliation; a man is only as dead as his replacement; war for
peace is a fools dream.
But the film succeeds best in uncomplicating
the issues, peeling away race and religion, wants and grudges, until
what's left seems stunningly clear. Violence destroys lives and souls.
And then what?
