Missing
in Action 2
The Beginning
A lot of weight
goes into the prologue, a brief bit of film stamping each GI with the title rubric.
This serves as a distancing sort of résumé for the grand shocks that follow.
The commandant revokes the Geneva Convention, his prisoners are criminals.
“Your ambassadors of evil,” he tells them, “are being killed
all over the world.” Col. Braddock, the senior American officer, is
ordered to sign a confession of war crimes, and is tortured.
The second level
of harshness is the realization that no confession will serve, because the
commandant merely wishes subjugation of his prisoners. The third is that
American weapons are housed in the camp supply hut, with which Col. Braddock
not only makes his escape and frees his remaining men, but destroys the camp
and its commandant as well.
The mechanism of
all this is certainly most entertaining. Col. Braddock is hung by his feet with
his hands tied, a sack containing a rat is placed over
his head. Blood appears on it as he shakes his head violently, then hangs motionless. In a gag perhaps derived from
Chaplin’s famous heaving shoulders that hide a calmly shaken martini, the
bag is removed to show a dead rat clutched in Col. Braddock’s unconscious
jaws.
An Australian
journalist discovers the camp (now years after the war), and tries to bluff the
commandant into surrender. He is dispatched, but first points the way of
escape.
Following the
demise of earthly hope in the commandant’s “pardon”, Col.
Braddock hangs himself, it’s a ruse, and makes his way to the weapons
cache.
There is a
curious echo of Apocalypse Now in the commandant’s French partner,
a civilian who deals in opium and girls, transported by helicopter. One of the
GI’s is a turncoat-trusty, who enjoys the favor of the regime.
The sufferings of
the prisoners are adequately conveyed, down to the point of their mildewed
rags. “I’m glad you finally understand the extent of your
guilt,” says the commandant, after forcing Col. Braddock to sign by
threatening the life of another GI, whom he then murders most viciously.
This is an
absolute, unequivocal position, conditioned exclusively by the
commandant’s one desire to prove or know who is
“the better man.” The straightforward surrealism of it is
marked by its concentrated vision, in Napoleon’s sense, there being no
resolution possible but an effacement of dramatic terms, so that this is a
solidly remarkable film, skillfully realized and a pleasure to watch, for all
its horrors, because they are so edifying in the long run, the main stylistic
thrust being to express all this realistically within the context of the
Vietnam War and its aftermath.
It produces an
odd dislocation of the historical sense, in a way, so as to give a pure sense
of the action. The performances are ideal, and in particular there is Soon
Teck-Oh’s inspired acuity as the commandant, which carries him through
even the karate fight in the last scene, part of which is filmed in
slow-motion. Norris is, of course, thoroughly imbued with his part, and there
is Christopher Cary, a brutal Cockney thug on The Rockford Files, as the
Australian.