Woody Harrelson in The Messenger. Photo from the film’s Facebook page.

I had heard tidbits about the The Messenger before I saw it. A rookie director (Israeli-military-man-turned-director Oren Overman), a generally well-reviewed actor (X-Men, Liberty Heights and 3:10 to Yuma veteran Ben Foster), and a controversial, relevant subject: war casualties.

On the surface, The Messenger is a film about two enlisted men, Montgomery (Foster) and Stone (Woody Harrelson) notifying next of kin of their sons, husbands and fathers who have died in war. Sometimes they have a body, sometimes not. Sometimes all they have is a shoebox. More deeply, however, this story is a reversal on war movie archetypes: instead of focusing on those who must receive the news of death, it focuses on those who must deliver this most horrible news.

If this movie has a weak point, it is the execution of this wonderfully original plot. The film analyzes an oft-discussed topic in a novel way, but the plot itself often feels serialized. At points, it feels as if the main characters are simply traveling from episode to episode. Each character rather transparently represents the archetypal responses to loss and the archetypal responses to war. For example: the denial, the acceptance of how one must serve one’s country. Or: the anger, the hatred of war.

Occasionally lackluster acting mars the film as well. A few of the actors who played various notified parties take themselves a bit too seriously. Although actors taking themselves awfully seriously is certainly nothing new, the harsh emotional reality of this film is ruptured by this transgression, and it is always the director’s job to keep his or her actors artistically consistent with the larger film.

The story is unified by Montgomery’s romantic interest, Olivia (English-born actress and outspoken social activist Samantha Morton). The ethical dilemma that Montgomery faces is this story’s greatest saving grace: essentially, it keeps the human element of the story alive. It assures that the military element of the movie could be removed and a cohesive, human drama could remain in its wake.

Foster’s performance in his first leading role was brilliant. Deeply disturbed yet always relatable, Montgomery’s emotional confusion validates our cultural stereotype of shell-shocked war veterans while his tenderness simultaneously defies it.

And while I’m on the subject of validating and defying a preconception, this is the scene I saw when I walked into the interview room: Oren Overman sits peacefully in his chair, arms crossed. Ben Foster wields a pair of scissors, cutting strips idly from a copy of The Onion. Both rise to greet me. Overman grips my hand with ex-Mossad agent’s strength. Foster drops his scissors and shakes my hand gently. Tattoos run all the way up his arm. A fellow reporter from DePaul follows after me, and we take turns asking questions.

What inspired you to make a film about this subject matter?

Moverman: We started with the script, and me and my co-writer talked about the idea of casualty notification. At that time, it was illegal to show images with the consequences of war. It was about strategy, it was about other things. And we decided to write a script that concentrates on the consequences the war has on other people. The residual effects. And we’ve seen stories about people who have lost someone in war, but we’ve never seen the people who do that job. And we’re always anxious to show something new.

You shot these scenes where Montgomery broke the news in really interesting ways. The camera moved around a lot, the cameraman stepped forward. How did this contribute to the meaning of this scene?

Moverman: Well, there’s the meaning of the scene and the meaning of shooting the scene. The meaning of shooting a scene like that is that you’re intruding on very private moments. And you can be milking them or you can be aware of how raw they are and be careful about what you get out of them. And we’d be able to shoot the entire notification in one take, handheld, not really knowing where the scene is gonna go. And not really caring. If everyone played their role and captured it then we’ve done our job.

Your character had to deal with something more powerful than death: the effect that death has on the loved ones of the deceased. How did you get into that mindset when you broke the news?

Foster: That’s something Oren and I have been talking about for about a year and a half. If you take the military out of this movie, the movie still exists in a relatable way. At the end of the day, you’re gonna die. And your friends are gonna die. And if they haven’t, they will. And that goes for all of us. And our family members drop off. And we’ve all gotten that call at some point, and if you haven’t, you will. That’s just the hard truth about being a human being. And we don’t want to deal with that in our culture at all, but we’re going and we’re going fast. So how do we connect with one another? It’s remembering, “Ah, yes, it’s okay. We have each other, we have this moment, to be with each other. The gift of this time.” That’s something we constantly have to keep referring to. We can’t hold it in our minds everyday because we’d lose our fucking marbles. But it’s something we have to confront.

Bottom Line:This is Moverman’s first film, and it has its issues. But the creative force behind this film is palpable. You may not love this movie, but you won’t forget it.
Grade: B+