Three Kings (1999)

reviewed by
Ian Waldron-Mantgani


 Three Kings        ***

Rated on a 4-star scale Screening venue: Odeon (Liverpool City Centre) Released in the UK by Warner Bros on March 3, 2000; certificate 15; 115 minutes; country of origin USA; aspect ratio 2.35:1

Directed by David O. Russell; produced by Edward L. McDonnell, Charles Roven, Paul Junger Witt. Written by David O. Russell; from a story by John Ridley. Photographed by Newton Thomas Sigel; edited by Robert K. Lambert.

CAST.....
George Clooney..... Major Archie Gates
Mark Wahlberg..... Sergeant Troy Barlow
Ice Cube..... Staff Sergeant Chief Elgin
Spike Jonze..... Private Conrad Vig
Said Taghmaoui..... Captain Said
Nora Dunn..... Adriana Cruz
Mykelti Williamson..... Colonel Horn

David O. Russell's "Three Kings" is the first war movie I have seen that takes the camera into an imaginary bullet wound to show it filling up with bile. What's more, the moment seems perfectly normal in the context of the film. This is a fast-talking, cheerfully deranged depiction of army intervention in Iraq, which plays with style, structure and tone in the dangerously excited manner of a fire-eating juggler.

The story takes place in 1991, just after the end of the Gulf War. In a camp of American soldiers who are rounding up prisoners and waiting to go home, Major Archie Gates (George Clooney) discovers an "ass map" -- a treasure map, that is, found between a captive's butt cheeks. Gates orders a goofy hillbilly, Private Conrad Vig (Spike Jonze), to take it out. "Can't I have a glove, Sir?" he asks. "No," Gates replies, "That's how the chain of command works."

Gates and Vig consult two reliable young comrades, muscle-bound family man Sergeant Troy Barlow (Mark Wahlberg) and firm, shrewd staff sergeant Chief Elgin (Ice Cube). Together the quintet deduce the location of the loot to be an Iraqi army bunker near Cordoba, and guess that it will be several million dollars worth of Kuwaiti gold bullion. Their plan: To steal it. If they get caught: They'll say they were on a legitimate mission to rescue their allies' property from the enemy.

Since we never see movie characters plan heists and then follow them through without a hitch, we know this scheme will somehow go wrong. Our heroes' obstacle comes when they're about to leave the village in which the gold-filled bunker is situated. Iraqi guards are making clear they plan to harm civilians, and it would be wrong to leave them to do so.

There is a scene of agonising effectiveness here, as the action goes into slow motion to mark the cease-fire's dissolution into chaos. A mother is shot in full view of her husband and children. Soldiers resume fighting. Watching this at a delayed pace accentuates the tension, the horror, and the reality of each bullet, and all we can do is sit there, watching, feeling helpless.

Of course, that's all the American soldiers can do for most of the time. George Bush may have urged Iraqi citizens to rise up against Saddam Hussein's evil regime, but he's not letting his troops help them, because the Gulf War wasn't about liberating people, and was fought to make sure Kuwait could keep supplying oil to the Western world. Most people already realise and are resigned to that, but "Three Kings" angrily indicts Bush for it, with a second half that is dramatic and political. The film surrounds Gates, Vig, Barlow and Elgin with hypocrisy and devastation as they attempt to get back to their base, fight off hostile fire, save the lives of refugees and salvage some bullion.

That's a little anticlimactic, as the opening chapters are full of brilliantly crude slapstick satire, and at times thereafter the film becomes inappropriately slowed down when accommodating its serious stuff. Russell, who wrote and directed, should have found some way to blend the different elements in less jarring fashion. It is creative to follow an elaborate practical gag about pretending to be Saddam with realistic footage of refugee orphans, but it isn't necessarily wise, because it means the audience is still laughing when we should be settling down for sober thought.

What "Three Kings" conveys brilliantly, throughout everything light and heavy, is the utter confusion of war -- in the opening words ("Are we still shooting?"), the disorganisation of the U.S. forces' barracks, and the mad dash to safety the film spends most of its time on. We can decipher what's going on during immediate moments, but the general experience is intentionally perplexing and dizzying. Ambiguous individual point of view shots contribute to this, as does unstable, screw-loose pacing.

Newton Thomas Sigel's cinematography is the most crucial element in putting us in the middle of the unpredictability. In the tradition of a lot of recent Hollywood war dramas, it's shaky and grainy, but its underdeveloped film stock is a much more original touch, making the frame extremely sensitive to light. There are huge contrast changes all the time, and the film seems to be REACTING to situations, and SEEING images, rather than creating them.

The four main actors work subtle wonders, too, performing in ways that balance each other's efforts nicely. Clooney has authoritative star power; Jonze, who has also done good work as a director, is pleasing in what is essentially a jester role; Wahlberg is charming and boyish; Cube reassures us that there's someone sensible in this motley crew.

As of yet, the only other theatrical motion picture dealing with the Gulf War has been Edward Zwick's "Courage Under Fire", from 1996. So it's amazing, when you think about it, that Russell has so soon found the courage to make a bizarre comedic commentary on the subject. Shame on Warner Bros for marketing it as a dumb action flick, in ads that juxtapose serious-sounding lines with explosions. They're shooting themselves in the foot, as fans of that sort of thing will be put off when they learn what the movie is actually about, and most other people will the alienated by the commercials. "Three Kings" deserves better treatment -- uneven patches notwithstanding, it's original, powerful, and very unexpected.

COPYRIGHT(c) 2000 Ian Waldron-Mantgani

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