Indignation

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: James Schamus/Starring: Logan Lerman, Sarah Gadon, Tracy Letts, Ben Rosenfeld, Linda Emond, Danny Burstein and Philip Ettinger

Based on Phillip Roth's novel of the same name, Indignation marks the directorial, feature film debut of James Schamus. Roth's novels are never easy to adapt well and I can't recall a great movie that was ever made from any of his books. Bringing a Roth novel to the big screen is a daunting challenge for any director; more so for a directorial newcomer. Schamus not only handles the material with aplomb, he evinces a sure hand, crafting a powerful drama from a seemingly simple story. The film explores and dramatizes the rigid moral landscape of early 1950s' America and its impact on a young, Jewish man from New Jersey.

In the opening scenes, we see a Korean soldier stalking an American soldier through an abandoned building before the aggressor is shot, falling dead. In a different scene, we see an elderly woman sitting alone in a retirement home. What connects the respective scenes and how they serve the story becomes clear later in the film.

Logan Lerman plays Marcus Messner, a teenager from New Jersey on the verge of leaving for college. Marcus spends his days working with and for his father Max (Danny Burstein) at the family-owned butcher shop. Marcus' matriculation at an Ohio college bestows an automatic deferment from military duty in the Korean war; the grim military conflict raging overseas.

The setting quickly shifts from Jersey to a small town in Ohio named Winesburg (an allusion to Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio?). After learning the Jewish students are clustered together in their own enclave-like area of the dormitories, Marcus meets the two roommates with whom he is to share a living space; Ron (Philip Ettinger); a strapping upperclassman and Bertram (Ben Rosefield); an odd duck who is given to reciting Shakespearean passages.
Shortly after meeting his roommates, Marcus learns all students are required to attend Sunday service in the campus chapel; regardless of faith or denomination. The non-negotiable requirement is an unreasonable curricular imperative but Marcus finds it is necessary for graduation.

In his first days at school, Marcus is also approached by two members of the Jewish campus fraternity, who soft sell him on the idea of joining. Marcus declines, feeling no need to join an any organization. The scene is significant, for it gives us a sense of Marcus' independent spirit and introduces the audience to two men who will later play a key role in his school experience.

As a pre-law major, Marcus excels in the classroom; particularly during history, where his inquisitive mind attracts the notice of his professor. A pretty, blonde girl, Olivia Hutton (Sarah Gadon) in his history class catches his eye and after spending evenings standing outside her dorm room window, he asks her out on a date. The two hit it off though Olivia's dark secret reveals itself during their first date. Though it escapes Marcus' immediate attention, Olivia's wrist bears the unmistakable scar of a suicide attempt. Marcus learns soon after that Olivia made an attempt on her own life during a drunken episode, which stemmed from her unhappy home life and her troubled relationship with her father.

Though it's never an issue between them, the stark social contrast between Marcus' humble background and Olivia's upbringing of wealth and privilege is but one of the glaring differences between them.

A key moment in their first date occurs after dinner. While parked in a dark, secluded area, Olivia surprises Marcus by fellating him. The date ends awkwardly and in days thereafter, Marcus avoids Olivia while trying to fathom the sexual experience in the car. Perplexed by her boldness, Marcus reaches out to his roommate Ron in hopes of gleaning some understanding. Ron listens but soon becomes annoyed with Marcus' monotonous discussion.

A period of mutual alienation follows until Marcus seeks her out, only to be rebuffed. A series of letters are exchanged, one of which is taken from Marcus' hands by his prying roommate Bertram. After Marcus reacts violently to Bertram's theft, Ron intervenes, only to enrage Marcus who takes a swing at his bigger, stronger roommate. Ron decks him, which prompts Marcus' exit from the room. Shortly after, Marcus applies for and is granted a room transfer to the dingiest and least coveted living dorm on campus.

In the scene that follows, Marcus is summoned to the college dean's office, who inquires about the room transfer. In the film's most tension-filled, riveting scene, the dean (an excellent Tracy Letts) grills Marcus on a variety of issues and poses thinly-veiled, anti-Semitic questions to him about his father's butcher shop and his Jewish background. But the most contentious and most significant subject is Marcus' atheism. Caudwell's distaste for Marcus' candid comments about his inability to practice one religion over another leads to an impassioned debate. Marcus draws upon Bertrand Russell's Why I'm Not a Christian to support his lack of belief in a Biblical god. When Dean Caudwell cites Russell's morally shaky private life, Marcus counters with a comment about the philosopher/mathematician's Nobel Prize. The Dean's hopeless determination to win the impromptu debate persists, in spite of Marcus' forceful defense of his beliefs. The scene occupies a substantial chunk of screen-time but the acting and the terrific dialogue left me spellbound.

But before Marcus leaves the Dean's office, he collapses and in the subsequent scene in a hospital room, we learn Marcus' physical attack was an appendicitis.
The fact that the appendicitis occurred after Marcus' heated exchange means the collapse could (and should) be interpreted as something more abstract than literal. Any number of interpretations might apply. Given the reactionary spirit of the school and the times, Marcus' ailment could be seen as the progressive's revulsion with the reactionary ideas of 1950s America.

When Olivia surprises Marcus with a hospital visit, her presence on the bed leads to an act which carries the threat of expulsion. Fortunately for both, the fallout is nil.
But Marcus' distaste for the chapel services leads to a course of action with appalling consequences. What follows after powerfully connects the main story to the enigmatic opening scenes.

Schamus' script and story seems so simple in retrospect but nothing in a Roth novel is ever so. Though the compulsory conformity that characterized 1950s' America is represented well in the story, so is the small-minded bigotry and priggish attitudes about sex. The scar on Olivia's wrist is a powerful symbol of the oppressive sexism that left women few life choices and viable options in the era. One can see that both Marcus and Olivia as victims of an intolerant and unenlightened period. Both bear the brunt of 1950s' intolerance: he for being a Jew and Olivia for being a woman; particularly one that is sexually daring.

One of the film's great strengths is also one viewers might find suspect: the lack of marquee cast names. Brilliant performances make any and all qualms irrelevant. Particularly good is Logan Lerman, whose role may be something of a breakthrough. Letts plays the Dean with superb, subtle menace. The aggression seething behind his intolerant, self-righteous face is powerful, which Letts makes almost unbearable without going over the top. Gadon's exceptional performance can't be overlooked, nor can Linda Emond's. The scene where she issues an ultimatum to Marcus about Olivia is one fine moment among many in the film.

Schamus shows a Roth novel can be adapted well, which is no mean feat. With a story so character-driven, camera work tends to be subdued, which means the director must draw exceptional performances from his cast. Schamus does so with a veteran's skill.

Indignation comes as something of summer surprise, which is a good thing; considering my incessant gripes about the multiplex. With super heroes and ghostbusting gals hogging the screens, it's refreshing to see a story about someone more heroic than the costume-clad clowns with super powers. Marcus Messner does it; not by lifting heavy objects or wielding super weapons, but by simply opposing the status quo.

Fury

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: David Ayer/Starring: Brad Pitt, Shia LaBeouf, Logan Lerman, Michael Pena and John Bernthal

David Ayer, the helmsman behind the gritty 2012 cop drama End of Watch, brings a grittier film to theaters with the World War II story Fury. If you thought Saving Private Ryan was a bloody, violent affair, you might find Ayer's film more so. I don't know that I've seen a grimier, filthier, more brutal depiction of war. But the visuals aren't the only element that overpowers, the sound was also fairly extraordinary. Every explosion from ordnance and every discharge from a tank barrel rattled my seat. Fury leaves almost no sense unstimulated. Ayer makes certain the audience knows war is frightening, ugly business, and he succeeds exceptionally well in that regard. There is hardly a moment where one feels the characters are far removed from the savagery of battle. Ayer maintains a heightened sense of fear; allowing the audience to feel the soldier's anxieties and dread.

But the movie also borrows too heavily from many other war films. We're left with a technically and visually arresting film whose story succumbs often to cliche.

Titles before the film inform us that American tanks were outgunned and lacked the heavy armor of their German counterparts. The implicit message in this factoid is that American tank crews were very brave but the information also helps create an atmosphere of anxiety.

Brad Pitt plays Sargent Don "Wardaddy" Collier, a battle-hardened tank commander whose tank crew has seen action in every major American/British offensive; North Africa, D-Day and now the push into Germany.

His crew has just fought a ferocious battle where bodies and carnage litter the landscape. In the collection of wreckage, Collier emerges from his possum-playing tank to stab a German officer in the eye, who happens to be wandering among the smoldering, ruined tanks. We gather from Collier's gruesome act that the depictions of battle will be unsparingly grisly.

Collier's tank crew has just lost a gunner and has arrived at a camp to take on a new recruit; a former clerk/typist named Norman (Logan Lerman), whose appalling lack of experience disgusts the entire unit. Collier and his crew are dirty, tired and ragged and have the look of soldiers who have seen too much war. The crew is also gruff, edgy, war-weary and bear a ferocious hatred of anyone in a German uniform.

Collier's crew is made up of Boyd "Bible" Swan (Shia LaBeouf), who mans the main gun and is given to quoting Bible verse; Trini "Gordo" Garcia (Michael Pena), who mans one of the machine guns and Grady "Coon-Ass" Travis (John Bernthal), the gun-loader with a heavy southern accent. The crew has seen a lot together and like Collier, have little patience for Norman's inexperience.

Collier orders Norman to clean the machine gunner's seat inside the tank, which becomes a nauseating experience after the recruit finds the chair drenched in his predecessor's blood and half his face in a stew of bodily matter. Norman exits the tank to vomit-a justifiable response. We know Norman's innocence will eventually be shattered, along with his humane disdain for violence.

Collier's crew and the unit's tank, which bears the word "Fury" on its barrel, are commanded to take part in a search and destroy mission. Joining a convoy, Collier's tank proceeds slowly on a German road until the column passes a copse of trees. Norman sees a German soldier wielding an anti-tank weapon but doesn't shoot. The German fires at the tank ahead of Collier's, incapacitating it and causing the interior to ignite. American soldiers emerge from the burning interior, bodies ablaze and in the case of one soldier, a self-inflicted gunshot to the head precludes a lurid, fiery death. Collier is naturally livid with Norman for not firing his gun and when asked for an explanation, the recruit mentions the very young age of the enemy soldiers; some of them children. We know the encounter will be one lesson among many for the young gunner.

Shortly thereafter, we come to understand just how poorly armored and outgunned the American Sherman tanks were in battle as a much-feared German Tiger tank ambushes the four-tank unit. Repeated firing from the Sherman tanks merely glance off the substantially-armored Tigers and in the harrowing encounter, one turret is blown off its main body while in another American tank, a commander is decapitated by a German tank round. In the final hair-raising encounter, as Collier's Sherman faces the German monster alone, the American tank manages to make its way around to the Tiger's vulnerable rear area before crippling it. As the German tank crew emerges from the disabled tank, Collier and his men gun down the survivors.

In yet another battle, after the American army destroys another ambush, a German captive is paraded through the American soldiers. Collier sees the situation as an opportunity for Norman to execute the the soldier, thereby testing the new recruit's resolve and mettle.
It seems no war film of the past 30 years can resist the almost obligatory enemy soldier execution scene. We see it in Full Metal Jacket, Saving Private Ryan and now Fury. It's a tired go-to plot device and a cliche the film doesn't need.

The battle scenes are dazzling. Tracer fire zips back and forth between armies like a futuristic laser battle, tank shells ping off armor, tank treads roll mercilessly over dead bodies and mud seems to coat every soldier and mechanized surface, which ably serves the film's dirt and grim aesthetic.

After a significant incident involving two German women in a captured town, Collier and his men are ordered to guard strategic crossroads. When they arrive, a tank tread strikes a landmine, rendering the tank inert and leaving the tank without means to maneuver. To make matters worse, Norman spots an approaching German convoy--300 men strong. Rather than flee, Collier chooses to stand his ground. The puzzled crew joins him reluctantly, thus setting the stage for a climactic battle.

I liked so much about Fury but it is a film that often goes wrong. The execution scene aside, some dialogue rings unnatural and false and Ayers' script has Collier indulging in some war-movie philosophizing that strikes a discordant tone. Collier says to Norman: "Ideals are peaceful, history is violent." The statement seems too detached and very out of character for someone severely scarred by war.
I also found the final stand a Saving Private Ryan, against-heavy-odds-we-stand contrivance that seems very out place in a movie that works overtime to give the audience an authentic experience. I can't imagine battle-weary soldiers would fight against such heavy odds when they would be well within their rights to run. I'm not suggesting soldiers wouldn't be brave enough to take a stand, it just seems a character like Collier, who is doggedly-determined to see his crew survive, would be more sensible in such a situation.
And you're telling me 300 German soldiers, some armed with anti-tank weapons, couldn't surround or outflank one tank?

The character of Collier was plausibly established then betrayed by war movie cliches. In spite of said flaws, Brad Pitt's performance is fairly superlative. The rest of the cast are poorly served with stock characters and in the case of actor John Bernthal; he is saddled with a very broad, southern accent for a face that screams Bronx, Brooklyn or Queens. Every-time he opened his mouth, I expected a tough, New Yorky voice but was greeted with Huckleberry Finn instead. His performance, like that of the other cast-members, is hardly bad, but I think set design, sound design, visual effects and production design trumped characterization.

I came away from Fury quite impressed but hardly satisfied. It is a terrific technical film but makes a less-than-terrific artistic statement. It has many exceptional attributes but when it stumbles, it doesn't always recover.