MOVIE REVIEW: “13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi”
Kris "Tanto" Paronto (Pablo Schreiber) is taking no prisoners in “13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi.”
Jack Silva (John Krasinski) on the move in “13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi.”
Tyrone "Rone" Woods (James Badge Dale) takes one last look in “13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi.”
Mission accomplished.
True stories can be tricky, especially in the hands of director Michael Bay. As evidence, recall his first drama based on real-life events, “Pearl Harbor” (2001).
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Now comes “13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi” (which I’ll call “13 Hours” from now on–I only have so many column inches), which is based on the book “13 Hours: The Inside Account of What Really Happened In Benghazi” by Mitchell Zuckoff and Annex Security Team, itself touted as an actual account of three former special forces contractors in the attacks in Benghazi, Libya that led to the death of U.S. Ambassador Chris Stevens, information officer Sean Smith and two fellow contractors.
As such, this book and its subsequent film adaptation include all of the goriest details of the attack up close, as well as the bits that have come under such scrutiny since then: the supposed “stand down” order, as well as a total lack of any protest due to a video.
I don’t pretend to know what happened on the ground in Libya, nor do I intend to argue the story as told by these courageous men. Much of their story corroborates with what we know to be the factual timeline, and some of it even dispels the myths about there being some vast top-down conspiracy to let Americans die. For instance, the “stand-down” appears to be little more than a single man’s decision made in haste and under massive duress, while attempting to assess just what was happening, rally local support, and follow procedure. Tough decisions to make yes, but hardly Obama’s idea.
The real question is, whose idea was it to have Bay direct? To his credit, he crafts a pretty involving flick for most of its runtime, if somewhat formulaic in its setup, with each of our main characters an action hero stereotype. The film does a commendable job navigating the morass of events that led up to the attack, but the narrative still might be cloudy for some viewers. If art really imitates life, such confusion likely mirrors how it actually was on the ground, with guys carrying guns not knowing whom to shoot until they are being shot.
REVIEW
• CRITIC RATING: Three stars
• STARRING: Starring: John Krasinski, Pablo Schreiber, James Badge Dale
• RATING: Rated R for strong combat violence throughout, bloody images and language. 144 minutes.
• BEHIND THE SCENES: Directed by Michael Bay. Written by Chuck Hogan (screenplay) and Mitchell Zuckoff (book).
• TRIVIA FROM IMDb: Toby Stephens, who plays Bub Doherty, was a good friend of the real-life Jack Da Silva. John Krasinski’s character is wearing the punisher emblem on his bullet-proof vest. Chris Kyle’s (“American Sniper”) navy seal unit also has this symbol on their clothing. Glen Doherty was good friends with Brandon Webb, who was a sniper instructor for the Navy SEALs. Webb trained both Marcus Luttrell and Chris Kyle.
Culture shock sets in immediately as we’re vicariously dropped into the fray along with bulked-up but still boyish John Krasinski as Jack Silva. He’s got a wife and kids at home in the states, but times are tough enough that he needs to take freelance contracting jobs now and again to make ends meet. The first-world needs of his family at home weigh heavily on his mind while he settles in with a ragtag team of soldiers for hire in similar straights. But don’t mistake this break-in period as slow; background tension is always evident, and it ramps to the fore quickly. Once there, it hardly ever ratchets backward, even in the downtime allotted between attacks.
Bay actually keeps himself in check for most of the film, while taking cues from other, subtler directors. Juxtaposition is everywhere, with kids gleefully playing on tanks, the privileged entertaining at fine establishments while others live in hovels, with our own soldiers and contractors referring to their barracks as “club med,” an oasis amidst utter devastation.
But the bombastic background music signals that Bay is barely at bay, and once the attack is in full swing, a riveting action film turns into a bit of a glorification of violence. The one-liners start to fly, we get POV shots of the mortars as they descend on dreadful targets, and our heroes suffer the consequences in explosive slow-mo. By the time they gather to catch their breath and mourn their dead, the cheese is flowing as surely as the blood was just 20 minutes previous.
No one can question the bravery of these men, but I question the choice of director for sure. But if Bay wanted to create an uncompromising action flick that tries to paint in black and white the complex shades of gray involved in modern warfare while glorifying the testosterone needed to survive such an exhaustive event, then mission accomplished.