In journalism, the source is god. Good journalism — the stuff that gets closer to "real" journalism (as I brand it, at least) and away from just fly-on-the-wall meeting reporting — is built on a foundation of understanding context and research, but much faith is inevitably placed in the source. If the source says something and the author quotes it, the reader assumes (and the author hopes) this information to be fact. But, there may not be a whiz-bang team of veteran fact-checkers making sure the source isn't spouting nonsense. This unfiltered information may be true, or the only thing true about the quote may be that the source said it. The reader may forget, in many instances, what they're reading on the page is just a game of telephone.
This might only seem relevant to those brave, financially reckless souls currently pursuing a journalism degree, but it's also at the heart of one of the biggest (and mostly unnecessary) controversies about Zero Dark Thirty: Does the movie imply that without torture, U.S. soldiers and operatives would never have been able to locate and kill the most wanted man in the world?
Go ahead and Google Zero Dark Thirty if you've somehow missed the parade of congressmen and click-hungry bloggers shaking their fingers at director Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker, Point Break) and writer Mark Boal for how inaccurate or dangerous this idea is — an idea they see as being perpetuated by ZDT. (Though, it should be noted, in the movie the useful bits of info gained from interrogations come when agents are using the carrot rather than the stick, even if they've used the stick before.) There have also been some pieces written about how, disturbing or not, this may very well be accurate — that Americans on the front lines may have committed war crimes in their quest to track down Osama bin Laden.
But the thing that both sides of this debate seem to overlook is that it doesn't matter in the case of ZDT. And not because "it's just a movie."
This might only seem relevant to those brave, financially reckless souls currently pursuing a journalism degree, but it's also at the heart of one of the biggest (and mostly unnecessary) controversies about Zero Dark Thirty: Does the movie imply that without torture, U.S. soldiers and operatives would never have been able to locate and kill the most wanted man in the world?
Go ahead and Google Zero Dark Thirty if you've somehow missed the parade of congressmen and click-hungry bloggers shaking their fingers at director Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker, Point Break) and writer Mark Boal for how inaccurate or dangerous this idea is — an idea they see as being perpetuated by ZDT. (Though, it should be noted, in the movie the useful bits of info gained from interrogations come when agents are using the carrot rather than the stick, even if they've used the stick before.) There have also been some pieces written about how, disturbing or not, this may very well be accurate — that Americans on the front lines may have committed war crimes in their quest to track down Osama bin Laden.
But the thing that both sides of this debate seem to overlook is that it doesn't matter in the case of ZDT. And not because "it's just a movie."
The movie opens with the words "based on first-hand accounts of actual events," and here our game of telephone begins. We're not watching what happend. We're watching an account of what someone said happened. It just happens to be in the form of a Hollywood film instead of a book or an article.
But, accurate or no, how does it stand as a film? It's taut and intense in a way few "war" movies are. Though it comes in at just under three hours, things move fast, and the fact that you probably know how this story ends won't keep you from the edge of the seat.
It's broken down into several chapters that make up the three major parts. We open with intelligence gathering, a tug of war between interrogators and imprisoned radicals. Men are brutalized and abused as agents attempt to bring them to a breaking point. Eventually this leads to a name — the name of a man who may have direct access to bin Laden. Next, we move into what is basically The Wire set in Pakistan as the manhunt heats up and a small group of operatives see if a name and a phone number is enough to lead them to bin Laden's hideout.
The final act is a SEAL team raid. This is the part that could have easily been the worst (thanks to the too-soon-ness of it all), but it shines as one of the most realistic-feeling military scenes I've ever witnessed. There's no triumphant fanfare as the SEAL team surrounds and enters the compound. The hush is only broken up with pops of silenced gun fire, detonating breach charges and the cries of women and children. The darkness, as thick as it can be while still keeping the action visible, is broken up by first-person shots from Navy SEALs' night-vision goggles. This is not Django Unchained violence, but it also doesn't feel preachy or political.
Zero Dark Thirty is not a documentary, an article in the New York Times or a history lesson. (And, even if it was, the viewer would be wise to remember that, at best, he or she would only be hearing a semi-accurate representation of what other people said. It's a game of telephone, and it's one of the reasons sources of documentaries or articles rarely seem happy with the final cut and why me-first online journalism often leads to such sloppy results.)
There may never be a clear answer about what really did or did not lead the U.S. to bin Laden. In an instance like this where many of the details are likely classified, could there really be? It may always be the word of unnamed sources against the word of politicians. What Zero Dark Thirty is, at least to this viewer, is an account of what happened. This account is no doubt without its flaws, but it is an entertaining film and, possibly, a peak behind the red, white and blue curtain at a decade-long manhunt.
--Eric Pulsifer
But, accurate or no, how does it stand as a film? It's taut and intense in a way few "war" movies are. Though it comes in at just under three hours, things move fast, and the fact that you probably know how this story ends won't keep you from the edge of the seat.
It's broken down into several chapters that make up the three major parts. We open with intelligence gathering, a tug of war between interrogators and imprisoned radicals. Men are brutalized and abused as agents attempt to bring them to a breaking point. Eventually this leads to a name — the name of a man who may have direct access to bin Laden. Next, we move into what is basically The Wire set in Pakistan as the manhunt heats up and a small group of operatives see if a name and a phone number is enough to lead them to bin Laden's hideout.
The final act is a SEAL team raid. This is the part that could have easily been the worst (thanks to the too-soon-ness of it all), but it shines as one of the most realistic-feeling military scenes I've ever witnessed. There's no triumphant fanfare as the SEAL team surrounds and enters the compound. The hush is only broken up with pops of silenced gun fire, detonating breach charges and the cries of women and children. The darkness, as thick as it can be while still keeping the action visible, is broken up by first-person shots from Navy SEALs' night-vision goggles. This is not Django Unchained violence, but it also doesn't feel preachy or political.
Zero Dark Thirty is not a documentary, an article in the New York Times or a history lesson. (And, even if it was, the viewer would be wise to remember that, at best, he or she would only be hearing a semi-accurate representation of what other people said. It's a game of telephone, and it's one of the reasons sources of documentaries or articles rarely seem happy with the final cut and why me-first online journalism often leads to such sloppy results.)
There may never be a clear answer about what really did or did not lead the U.S. to bin Laden. In an instance like this where many of the details are likely classified, could there really be? It may always be the word of unnamed sources against the word of politicians. What Zero Dark Thirty is, at least to this viewer, is an account of what happened. This account is no doubt without its flaws, but it is an entertaining film and, possibly, a peak behind the red, white and blue curtain at a decade-long manhunt.
--Eric Pulsifer
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