[rating=5.00]
Michael Bay remains something of an enigma to my mind. Somewhere along the way, he went from talented music video director to promising filmmaker to purveyor of billion dollar cash cows designed and marketed towards fifteen year old boys and the lowest common denominator (same thing, really). He’s universally derided, and yet has two films included in the Criterion Collection alongside the likes of Akira Kurosawa, Ang Lee, and Ingmar Bergman. I’ve often wondered what Bay and his trademarked penchant for bombastic set pieces and over the top thrill rides might look like if he stepped out of his wheelhouse to make a movie whose maturity matched the scope of his ambition. While I’m not convinced he’s yet reached such a point, I do believe we may have caught the closest glimpse yet of what he might be capable of with his latest film, 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi.
Which isn’t to say that 13 Hours is a particularly good movie. It’s not, really. But neither is it particularly bad. Like Bay himself, his latest work is enigmatic and oddly compelling without ever managing to cross the line into worthwhile or even memorable. It could’ve been worse; taken as a subjective judgment of a film by a filmmaker of Bay’s reputation, that might almost be construed as high praise, and I think I might mean it as such. Confused? Yeah, I was too.
On the surface, 13 Hours had every opportunity to be god awful—it’s the true story of the infamous attacks on a U.S. embassy and covert C.I.A. base in Benghazi, Libya on September 11, 2012 (an event you’ve probably heard about), starring two former cast members of The Office (John Krasinski and David Denman), released in the midst of a divisively contentious political season which will see at least one candidate taking fire over the attacks, and it’s directed by Michael fucking Bay. Terrible seemed almost a foregone conclusion, but instead it’s simply not great. Which makes it Bay’s best movie since 2005’s The Island (which, in turn, was his best movie since 1996’s The Rock).
Most of this is probably due to Chuck Hogan’s (The Town, The Strain) script, which was adapted from the book by Mitchell Zuckoff. Hogan does his best to resist any attempts at politicization of the Benghazi attacks, choosing instead to focus on the men who fought and died to protect their base. It’s a simple A to B to C recounting of events, with a few moments of humanization thrown in to make sure we really feel the impact of their struggles and sacrifices. Despite being a bit heavy handed and emotionally browbeating at times, it works well enough and it at least attempts to contextualize events that everyone has opinions about without really knowing the story.
13 Hours is blessedly apolitical in its aims. Anyone hoping for a crucifixion of our former Secretary of State will be sorely disappointed as the words “Hillary” and “Clinton” are nowhere to be found. Nor are they even alluded to. Rather, the attacks and subsequent loss of life and limb are presented as a series of missteps brought about by an equal mix of diplomatic hubris, willful misreading of the writing on the wall, and bureaucratic entanglements. Any vilification or vindication of any politician that you take away from the movie was most likely the same as what you brought into it. Thank god for that. By keeping the focus off politics, Hogan and Bay are able to zero in on the people involved, which is where the story should be centered.
For the most part, Bay mirrors Hogan’s restraint by opting for a low key, guerilla-esque approach to the filmmaking style. The typical gloss and sheen that punctuates most of Bay’s work is toned down or, in some cases, absent completely. He seems to have learned his lesson from the abysmal Pearl Harbor—sometimes smaller scales allow you to tell larger tales. The handheld camera work allows for a sense of being down in the nitty gritty, and Bay’s usual stylistic flourishes are largely absent. This gives 13 Hours an almost intimate feeling that is kind of hard not to get drawn into.
Of course, this is still a war movie, and if Bay has done nothing else over the course of his career, he’s shown us he’s more or less capable of presenting well-choreographed action with high paced intensity. Even here, however, Bay for the most part restrains himself. I mean this, of course, in comparison to his previous works. This is a filmmaker who has no problem throwing giant robots, asteroids, city buses, and even ocean freighters from the sky any chance he gets. Comparatively, the action in 13 Hours is remarkably tame, even when bullets are flying and limbs are hanging on by threads. The difference here is that Bay is reaching for an adult audience, and the results are enough to pique some curiosity over what he might accomplish if he continues moving away from adolescent fantasies.
Its main drawback is its length. Clocking in at nearly two and a half hours, 13 Hours could have spent a little more time in the editing room. As much as I wanted, despite myself, to get drawn into the story completely, there were scenes that were both unnecessary and that dragged too long. I couldn’t help but think that at two hours we would have had a tighter, and ultimately better, narrative.
Still, it’s not unwatchable. In fact it’s almost kind of good. Its lack of political ambition might be a turn off for some—I expect some backlash from the right wing blogosphere, especially after the months long touting of 13 Hours as the final nail in Clinton’s coffin—but Benghazi was never a political tragedy. Rather, it was a tragedy that got politicized. In the end, it’s a completely respectful and accurate recounting of the events of that fateful day that isn’t out to convince you of anything other than the bravery of the men who staved off the enemy as best they could in terrible circumstances. That’s probably the best we could’ve hoped for from a movie about Benghazi, regardless of its director.
13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi is now playing in theaters everywhere.
