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Sam Mendes'
Jarhead, based on Anthony Swofford's Marine memoir of the Gulf War, hits all the key points. The desert lamentations of the bored grunts as the flyboys get all the action, the antiwar films that ironically stoke bloodlust, the equation of the irrational impulse to kill with sexual frustration, and—of course—the futile destructiveness of war. The acting is strong: Jake Gyllenhaal anchors the cast as too-smart-for-his-own-good Swofford, and Jamie Foxx, Peter Sarsgaard, and Chris Cooper all make strong impressions. The story is predicated on maddening boredom, but there's a surprising amount of tension and dry, absurdist humor. Unfortunately,
Jarhead adds up to something slightly less than the sum of its parts. The elements are here to make
Jarhead the Gulf War
Catch-22, but satire closes before Oscar night, so to speak, and Mendes hedges his bets by sinking more effort and moody heft into striking visuals rather than refining William Broyles Jr.'s episodic adaptation.
Jarhead's best accomplishment is its clear-eyed assessment of lost boys eager for the thrill of sexy war action.
