The rape of an innocent Iraqi teenager and its aftermath as seen from different perspectives.

CRITIQUE

Redacted: verb – to make ready for publication, edit or revise.

I imagine that Brian De Palma secretly chuckled to himself when putting a title to his latest movie, because the essence of mainstream cinema is also defined by the word. But the laugh is on De Palma because most of his films are not ready for publication; at least not in a serious venue for which he hopes to be remembered.

Much like his venerated hero Alfred Hitchcock, De Palma is a creative technician whose obsession with style of substance will forever prevent him from making the rank that includes Kubrick, Welles, Goddard, Fellini (etc.) as filmmakers with extraordinary insight into human behavior in addition to adroit visuals. Even on a lowest common denominator-level the difference between Hitch and De Palma is pretty wide, but it all comes down to a refined sense of good taste. With Redacted, De Palma is like a gorilla attending a high society dinner party. You can dress a gorilla in a tuxedo but it’s still a gorilla.

Redacted’s central premise is sound enough — as well it should be; considering the fact that it was initiated in 1951 with Rashomon. For those unfamiliar with the classic Japanese film it’s about a savage rape; as seen through different eyes of the participants, victim, and “objective” observer. When transplanted to contemporary Iraq the idea remains the same but the details change: we see the actions via a soldier's video diary, American and Al-Qaeda web videos, a grieving wife's video blog, and a French documentary crew. Aside from the latter (which De Palma mocks via repetitious abuse of Handel’s funereal Sarabande) the ersatz videos are created straightforwardly. If only the content were as insincere.

Ostensibly Redacted is based on a real event. Is Redacted truthful? Does it even need to tell the truth? The answer is no and no. Literally everything about filmmaking is manufactured, so the notion of it being based on real events is just as distant to reality as a story that gestated entirely in a writer’s imagination. It needn’t tell the truth, but it has to be convincing to make its point. Try as he might — and I do think De Palma was toiling away here — the guy never comes to much of a point except, perhaps, that under the right circumstances people are capable of anything. I’m pretty sure that theme has been covered before.

The soldiers who participate in the rape of an innocent Iraqi teenager are drawn with extremely broad strokes: a pathological cracker and his hulking idiot pal who actually do the deed; a conscientious objector branded “pussy,” and a filmmaker wannabe whose camera always seems to be videotaping the most dramatic moments of their parched Middle Eastern tour.

There’s also a Sergeant who sounds crustier than Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket but inside, is really a pussycat. Naturally, he’s the first to trip over a land mine and get his limbs blown off. Not so coincidentally, when the filmmaker/soldier’s dropped camera hits the ground, Sarge’s severed arm flies into frame and plants itself in front of the lens. War is hell, kids — and pretentious cinematic aspirations are hellish, too! (I’m tempted to reveal a spoiler which makes the “video coincidence” point even more obvious, but I’ll lose my head if I go on.)

It’s not that broad strokes or even surreal/cartoonish strokes make for bad wartime characters: look at Apocalypse Now or Full Metal Jacket. Neither film resembles reality yet they manage to come far closer to the truth than De Palma will ever be able to locate with a compass and a light meter. Remember, this is the guy who at his full-out best, makes entertaining popcorn genre flicks (Scarface, The Untouchables, Carrie, Blow Out) and at his worst delves into the incomprehensible (Snake Eyes, The Black Dahlia and especially Femme Fatale).

For the sake of a meager evening’s DVD enjoyment I once again put up with De Palma’s wholesale theft of technique (this time Kurosawa instead of Hitchcock) and a lot of obvious performances. As much as I tried to like it — after all, I'm opposed to the Iraq war, too — Redacted gets so in your face with its agenda that forgiveness can only stretch so far. (And by agenda I mean “give me an Oscar!”)

By Redacted’s coda (chapter: "Collateral," in which all the stills are supposed to be 100% authentic wartime pictures) De Palma mixes in shots of his "dead" actress. I became livid at the filmmaker’s arrogant, naked hubris, which is almost as obscene as that of the Bush Administration. Strangely, I also felt thankful for the mental stimulation. Redacted asks some hard questions, and though it fails to address them well at least it keeps the debate alive.

THE VIDEO

Redacted is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen. Chalky, dusty palette of Iraq captured on film; web blogs and video diary appear to be mixed media. Overall, the picture is clean, with grain being part of the artistic plan rather than a mistake.

THE AUDIO

Redacted is presented in English 5.1 Dolby Digital Surround. As a personal drama… no plot requirements for major battle set-pieces, therefore the “whiz-bang” effect of flying bullets and shrapnel is very limited. What exists doesn’t sound too gimmicky. Alternate languages include Arabic, English, French, and German. Optional Spanish subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

Refugee interviews are exactly that.

A Behind the Scenes featurette goes into the making of Redacted.

Also included is a photo gallery.

FINAL THOUGHT

De Palma may not be a deep thinker but at least his brain is active. More often than not there’s something of value to be found in his efforts.