After watching Dirty Wars over in Five Points, I walked across the street from the theater to reschedule next week’s hair appointment, and as I attempted to communicate with the reception staff, I realized I was exhausted—from the film. (Okay, yes, there was a glass of wine during the film too, but this was mental exhaustion.) I felt completely spent, having watched the film and having thought deeply about its subject and having reflected on the future it hints at.
Let me first say that recognizing some heroes does not mean that I appreciate others any less (such as when I tout the hard work of civil rights attorneys who directly fight for our Constitutional rights (in addition to (not in substitution of) our military)). That said, investigative journalists, indeed, are heroes to me. (Before you attack, yes, I know sometimes their revelations risk secrets and safety, but remember too that freedom of the press is one of those rights fought for—by both the attorneys who defend their lawsuits and those who don a uniform for the broader fights.)
Dirty Wars reveals the investigations of Jeremy Scahill and his look into the US covert wars—in Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, Somalia, and beyond. It’s a hard look at things we as a country do. And the style of the film lets one feel as though you are along with Mr. Scahill at his side on his journey as he digs into hunches, leads, and stories of families decimated by secret operations.
I cannot say how I feel about the film’s subject. I cannot say because I still do not know. I can understand, to a degree, the need for certain operations. On the other hand, I wonder how often we go too far, how often humanity is forgotten, how often people stop being people and are nothing more than collateral damage and targets. Thus what I can say is that I greatly appreciate someone seeing reports and risking his own safety to find out more, to keep people honest, to provide an external system of checks lest any particular government—our own—tends to forget too much about what it means to be part of the human race.
(Oh—and no, this isn’t a “beat up on the prior administration” film. It sheds as much light on suspected events during the current administration as those past.)
In the end, as I think back on the movie, what I cannot help but juxtapose is the trailer shown before the film. Consider that trailers are chosen for the audience. And an audience seeing a documentary about covert wars would be the ideal target for another film coming soon about Indonesian death squads. (I greatly anticipate this movie (The Act of Killing) coming to Jax, although I wonder if I will be able to watch the whole film in one sitting; I never could get through the book about the Rwandan genocides.) But when does one cross that line? How close can one get to dancing near it?
Fortunately, with investigative journalists asking enough questions, I have a stronger belief in a humane angle for our future. I’m very glad I saw Dirty Wars.