That bin Laden Manhunt Movie

So much ink (and whatever the Web equivalent of ink is) has been spilled over Zero Dark Thirty that I don't have a whole lot to add. (My own views, more favorable than not toward the film, align most closely with those of Glenn Kenny, Mark Bowden, Manohla Dargis, and Tom Carson.) Nevertheless, I offer here, in passing, a few random observations. For what they're worth. Just to get them off my chest.

Although I think Zero Dark Thirty is easily the better film, Argo (this year's Best Picture Oscar winner) did do something I wish ZDT had done. At the start, Argo offers a brief history lesson on the ignominious rein of the Shah and the U.S. role in bringing him to power in Iran, thus providing crucial context for the events it depicts, a little-known rescue operation that came amid the 1979–81 hostage crisis. I wish that ZDT had managed some similar acknowledgment of why so many in the Arab world were—and are—so mad at us. (This would be not to justify what happened on 9/11, by any means, but to suggest  a bit more of the complex historical forces at work.)

A number of writers and critics I admire, including Chris Hayes and Stuart Klawans, have raised thoughtful objections to the film and what they perceive as its position on torture—i.e., that it endorses torture's efficacy in the finding of bin Laden. I happen to disagree, but whatever one's view, I think it's undeniable that the film has helped reopen a vigorous and healthy debate on the subject that seemed to have tapered off pretty quickly after President Obama announced that he preferred to "look forward" rather than backward when it came to the "enhanced interrogation" program authorized by his predecessor. For bringing up the issue again, ZDT deserves a little credit.

Finally, amid all the back and forth in the media about the movie's early torture scenes, not enough has been said (IMHO) about its ending. Following the raid on bin Laden's Abbotabad compound—brilliantly staged, as one would expect, by director Kathryn Bigelow—the film doesn't register the easy note of triumphalism that another filmmaker might have included. One of the Navy SEALs lets out a whoop upon arrival back at the U.S. air base in Afghanistan amid some "job well done" chatter, but that's about as far as the self-congratulation goes. Bigelow quickly cuts to her protagonist, Jessica Chastain's dogged CIA analyst Maya, hovering anxiously nearby. Maya, whose life has been utterly consumed for eight years by the manhunt, quietly identifies the body with a nod of her head and little betrayal of emotion. We last see her boarding a transport plane as its sole passenger. "Where do you want to go?" a crew member asks. Saying nothing, she sits down, framed in medium close-up, and she begins to sob. End of film. It's a perfect moment of ambiguity. Bin Laden is dead, but what has been accomplished, beyond a symbolic victory and simple revenge? His organization, as we all know, will continue. What is Maya thinking? Hard to say; Bigelow keeps the same cool distance at this significant moment that she has maintained throughout the film. Has it all been worth it, for Maya and for us? You decide.