Claire Woodall - Final Project

“The Blood of Innocents:” Vietnam on Film

Photo #1: Bob Hyde sleeping with his gun

Photo #2: Michael (Robert DeNiro) plays Russian roulette
Photo #3: Nicky (Christopher Walken) plays Russian roulette
Photo #4: Willard’s gun resting beneath his pillow

In reference to the My Lai massacre that took place in Vietnam on March 16, 1968, New Yorker journalist Jonathan Schell wrote: “We sense that our best instincts are deserting us, and we are oppressed by a dim feeling that beneath our words and phrases, almost beneath our consiousnesses, we are quietly choking on the blood of innocents” (Quoted in Westwell 2006: 58). The Vietnam War was an extremely violent war that deeply divided the United States and ultimately ended in defeat in 1975. The American death toll reached approximately 58,000 while the Vietnamese suffered a 4 million person loss (Westwell 2006: 58). In the shadow of defeat, Americans were left questioning national identity, patriotism, democratic legitimacy and freedom. Guy Westwell argues that the Vietnam War persists in “American cultural consciousness as a scar, a constant and permanent marker of the limits of American power and of the fragility of America’s stated ideals and principles” (Westwell 2006: 59). Westwell’s argument is certainly valid when looking at film of the 1970s. Apocalypse Now (1979), Coming Home (1977), and The Deer Hunter (1978) are three prime examples of how filmmakers during the late 1970s used cinema as an outlet to critically examine the Vietnam War, emphasizing both the psychological effects of guerilla warfare on soldiers and the challenges veterans encountered upon their return to the United States.

Disguised as a love story, Hal Ashby’s Coming Home critically examines the lasting physical and psychological effects of Vietnam on veterans as they returned home from combat. Sally Hyde (Jane Fonda) is portrayed in the beginning of the film as the dependant and passive wife of Officer Bob Hyde (Bruce Dern). Upon Bob’s departure and making a new friend in Vi (Penelope Milford), a feminist free spirit, Sally begins to create a new life for herself. Her “hair comes down frizzy, her pantsuits give way to Levis, she has wonderfully intense orgasms and, in the meantime, she turns against the war” and works at a veteran’s hospital (Wilson 1982: 83). At the veteran hospital she encounters Luke Martin (Jon Voight), a jock from her high school who has been wounded in combat and is restricted to a wheel chair. Luke and Bob share several qualities: “both are male-chauvinists; both volunteer for the War believing in it as an outlet for masculine heroics; both men return from the War with physical and mental injuries” (Muse 1995: 96-97). Luke, however, gets the girl in the end while Bob commits suicide. The film opens with a low-angle shot of real-life disabled veterans talking about the War in a hospital:
"I have to justify being paralyzed, I have to justify killing people, so I saw it was okay. But how many guys you know can make the reality and say, 'What I did was wrong, man,' and still be able to live with themselves ‘cause they’re crippled for the rest of their life?"

Coming Home suggests this is the core problem that veterans must overcome in order to readjust to civilian life. The veterans depend upon the War to justify their disabilities. Luke must come to terms with having been crippled for a cause in which he no longer believes in order to achieve freedom and mobility. It is unclear precisely how Luke is able to achieve such freedom in the film; Sally serves as his cheerleader and certainly provides motivation, but one is to believe he achieves a more personal realization than mere puppy love. The depth of Luke’s convictions is shown in the aftermath of his veteran friend’s suicide. In a vain attempt to make a statement against the war, he chains himself to the gates of United States Marine Corp recruiting depot. It is at this point in the film when he publicly displays his remorse for participating in the war; coincidentally, it is also at this point in the film that he sleeps with Sally for the first time.

Bob Hyde, although he sustains less severe physical injuries, never fully recovers upon his return from Vietnam and presumably ends his life as he swims into the Pacific Ocean. Bob’s association of war and masculinity can be clearly be seen in his enthusiasm for going to Vietnam; “his whole professional existence has been in preparation for [such] a moment: such a soldier needs Vietnam, if only to justify his choice of career” (Adair 1981: 107). The viewer sees a transformed Bob when Sally visits him in Hong Kong. He struggles to tell Sally what the war is like: “I don’t know what it’s like. I only know what it is. TV shows what it’s like. It sure as hell don’t show what it is.” He describes to Sally how he found his own men decapitating corpses and displaying the heads on tops of poles. As he describes this to his wife it seems as if he is afraid of what his own troops are capable of doing. In Vietnam, Bob discovers how far out of control the male ego can spin when equipped with a gun and a sense of entitlement.

Bob returns to California after he is released from Vietnam for a minor leg wound, either accidentally or purposely self-inflicted (it is not clear), for which he is to receive a medal. His entire demeanor transforms over the course of the film. On the night of his arrival, instead of spending time with his wife, he goes to the military bar and brings home a group of soldiers. Much like the opening scene in the veteran’s hospital, Bob surrounds himself with other veterans and attempts to justify their actions in Vietnam whilst drinking exuberant amounts of alcohol to numb the guilt and pain. The most striking image comes when Sally enters her bedroom and finds Bob passed out on the bed alongside a gun (see photo #1 above). The phallic image of the gun alongside his pillow portrays the masculine attachments Bob holds to his gun. He later uses a gun to threaten Sally’s life. He clings to his gun as if it is his only possession, the only object worth possessing and protecting.

When Bob discovers Sally’s affair, instead of attacking Luke, he warns him that the FBI is monitoring him. It is important to point out that Bob does not threaten his wife’s lover (as is often the case in films); rather, he removes the blame from the fellow war veteran and threatens Sally’s life. He clearly feels more connection to a fellow soldier (even one sleeping with his wife) than to Sally. In the midst of Sally and Bob’s heated, armed argument, Luke arrives in time to disarm Bob, calling him “brother” and encouraging him to forgive Sally and accept her love. The masculine connections the two soldiers share are blaringly evident in this scene, almost to an unbelievably exaggerated extent. Bob ends the film by removing his uniform and his wedding ring before entering the Pacific. Bob, the man who wanted, needed, the war so badly in the beginning of the film ironically sees it drain his entire life of purpose. It strips him of his pride and arguably hi masculinity. He never shows interest in having sex with his wife upon his return from the War. Rather, he seeks the masculine reassurance of other war veterans.

The Deer Hunter, the Academy Award winner for best picture in 1978, paid tribute to American soldiers through the story of three middleclass friends’ experiences in Vietnam. Although it elicited many angry responses from reviewers who found it to be racist and distasteful, many of these same reviewers admitted “the emotional power of the movie, which results from Cimino’s relentless portrait of the impact of the war on one small working class community in Pennsylvania” (Wilson 1982: 84). Michael (Robert DeNiro), Nicky (Christopher Walken), and Steven (John Savage) live together, work together at the local steel mill, drink together at the bar, and enlist together to go to Vietnam. In essence, the three males turn everything into a male ritual. Thus, as Wilson concludes, when the three men go off to Vietnam and return inarguably altered, we see the dissolution of working class America itself.

The Deer Hunter, although a “war film,” does not actually contain any war scenes. The three friends are incarcerated in a Vietcong prisoner camp where they are forced to play Russian roulette for the amusement of the Vietnamese. All three men leave the prisoner camp transformed. Steven is left in a wheel chair and returns home to an unstable marriage. Michael, once the no-nonsense, serious, hunter-killer, transforms into a sensitive, caretaker who has been emasculated by his Vietnam experience. Nicky undergoes the most dramatic detrimental change. Miller writes, “Nicky, in effect, ‘goes Indian’ when his terror over being forced to play this game brings on a complex that causes him repeatedly to play Russian roulette” (Miller 1999: 100).

The lasting effects of the prison camp experience on Michael and Nick contrast sharply. Despite the game’s historical validity (most reports argue that Russian roulette was not commonly played by the Vietcong), Russian roulette serves as a metaphor for combat in The Deer Hunter (see photos #2 and #3 above). Michael, once portrayed as an isolated, serious, stern hunter who only needed one bullet in his gun to shoot a buck, is unable to even shoot a deer by the end of the film. Before the men left for war, Michael appeared to be the loner of the group. The games of Russian roulette appear to have humanized and emasculated him. He carries Steven on his back to a hospital when they escape from the POW camp, returns home to take care of Nick’s girlfriend (Meryl Streep), and eventually returns to Saigon in an effort to rescue Nick. All in all, Michael becomes the town hero. However, it is not without consequences. One of his favorite hobbies prior to the War was hunting. An excellent marksman, Michael only required one bullet to get the job done. However, upon his return to Pennsylvania, he finds he is no longer able to kill. He encounters a massive buck at which he is unable to fire. Hydee and Willard are both pictured in bed with their guns. The weapons are the only security and power either one still has. In contrast, the games of Russian roulette have emasculated Michael to the point of being unable to shoot.

Nick’s fate is the most abysmal of the three men. He remains in Saigon where he continues to play Russian roulette for cash and becomes addicted to heroin. Nick closely parallels the characters of Bob Hyde and Benjamin Willard in that he is never able to recover emotionally or psychologically from his war experience. The viewer thinks he might return home for a moment when he makes a call to his girlfriend; however, he is unable to say anything and hangs up the phone. Similar to Hyde and Willard, Nick also loses the ability to have a relationship. When Michael returns to Saigon to bring his friend home, Nick does recognize his Michael until he buys his way into the game, sits across the table from him, and says “I love you.” It is at this very moment that Nicky recognizes Michael, pulls the trigger in their game of Russian roulette, and kills himself – his luck finally running out. Guns and games of Russian roulette emasculated Nick just as they did Michael. However, Nick is unable to accept this and readjust to civilian life. Nick, just like Bob Hyde, chooses the only other option – suicide.

Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now dramatically conveys the psychological effects left upon soldiers after experiencing guerilla warfare. Captain Benjamin Willard, unable to cope back in the United States, has returned to Saigon voluntarily for another mission. The hotel room in which Willard stays while awaiting his mission is a mess: overflowing ashtrays, bottles of liquor, sheets disheveled. The most shocking item in the room is a gun sitting next to Willard’s pillow (see photo #4 above); although Bob Hyde (Coming Home) and Benjamin Willard appear to be polar opposites in regards to personality and appearance, they both share this idiosyncrasy so common among veterans. Both cling to the one ounce of masculinity left in their lives. After being exposed to horrific inhumanities in the jungles of Vietnam, both men are emotionally and psychologically scarred, as well as emasculated. Neither is able to maintain a relationship or function in the American society. The guns both these men possess are symbolic of their struggles to hold on to their masculine egos. The viewer immediately calls into question how much control Willard possesses over his return to Saigon as he says:

"Saigon…shit. I’m still only in Saigon. Every time I think I’m going to wake up back in the jungle. When I was home after my first tour it was worse. I’d wake up and there’d be nothing. I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to a divorce. While I was here I wanted to be there. When I was there all I could think of was getting back into the jungle."

Ashby delivered the story of two veterans’ mental and physical struggles to return to the civilian world. In stark contrast, Coppola depicts soldiers who cannot release the warrior mentality – those who cannot make the psychological transformation necessary to return to civilization. The opening five minutes of Apocalypse Now have already forced the reader into a nightmare of sorts; throughout the film, however, the viewer is introduced to two different nightmares which represent different forms of violence.

The first form of violence the viewer is asked to question is that of “the corporate, instrumentalized, ideologically rationalized, and morally deceptive violence of the military machine” (Norris 2000: 210). Throughout the entire film there is a sense of unmanageable, uncontained violence built into the Army’s sense of its mission; there is no evidence in the film that the army teaches moderation or restraint to its soldiers. This is evident when the PBR boat’s search of the peaceful sampan turns into a massacre for no apparent reason other than this idea that death is an inherent and required part of a “mission” when conquering others.

The second form of violence, stemming from the first form’s rationalization of superiority, is the “blatant, undisguised, ideologically stripped and frank barbarism” of individuals in combat (Norris 2000: 210). In the same sampan massacre scene, Willard shoots a wounded woman point blank, as if putting an animal out of its misery. This scene destroys any illusions of rationalization and legitimacy of the military machine as an entity. The military machine fosters the breeding of coldhearted killers; Willard wonders at one point if Kurtz could be any more violent or immoral than Lieutenant Colonel Willard. Following the massacre, the crew rescues a puppy. In regards to these actions Willard voiceover narrates:
“It was a way we had over here of living with ourselves. We’d cut them in half with a machine gun and give ‘em a Band-Aid. It was a lie, and the more I saw of them, the more I hated lies.”

Willard, seemingly the hero figure up until this point in the film, is just as susceptible to the barbaric violence as Kilgore or Kurtz. In his narration he is constantly criticizing the establishment of the military in Vietnam; however, he willingly executes their victims. There is no longer the lingering question of why he could not return to the civilian world – why he yearned to wake up in the jungle. The narration technique allows the viewer to get in the psyche of Willard, witnessing his attempt to find “some psychological order…while avoiding the historical experience of the war and American military defeat” (Westwell 2006: 64). If the viewer solely witnessed the actions, without regard to Willard’s thoughts, he appear to have little remorse or integrity. The voiceover narration allows the viewer to understand the struggle he is facing as a soldier lacking the ability to return to civilization. Coming Home and The Deer Hunter convey the aftermath of war – the struggle of soldiers to return home and readapt to the civilian psychology and way of life. Apocalypse Now, on the other hand, suggests there is no adaptation. Once exposed to such horror and once one begins to rationalize and dehumanize himself to that degree, there is no returning.

The Vietnam War divided the United States more than any other foreign military action to date. President Lyndon Johnson did not seek another term in office because of the conflict and massive antiwar protests took place all over the nation, including the May 1971 march on Washington that result in over 13,000 arrests, as well as the protests at Kent State University and Jackson State University that both resulted in student deaths. United States citizens were constantly confronted with body bags returning from war or veterans who would bear psychological baggage for the remainder of their lives. Coming Home, The Deer Hunter, and Apocalypse Now all emphasize the loss of masculinity during the Vietnam War. Although there is much controversy over the overall message of The Deer Hunter and Apocalypse Now (both are extremely racist and glorify the American soldiers), they both inarguably portray the psychological consequences of guerilla warfare in the midst of a jungle.

All three films suggest the relationship between man and his gun. In the case of Bob Hyde, the gun he sleeps with foreshadows his fate of suicide. As a wounded soldier no longer disillusioned by romantic notions of war, Hyde has two options: disarm and join the protests against the war or commit suicide. The gun that he cannot seem to let go of even in his sleep foreshadows his ultimate fate. The Deer Hunter uses the imagery of a gun to symbolize the imprisonment both Michael and Nicky experience. Michael, once able to shoot a deer with a single bullet, is no longer able to shoot at all. He is imprisoned by his experience in Vietnam even when safely home in Pennsylvania. Nicky, ironically, cannot stop holding a gun to his head. He is unable to escape the violence of the War and continues pulling the trigger until he finally succeeds. The gun on Willard’s pillow also represents imprisonment. Willard returned home, only to find there was nothing left for him. Despite their overall political messages regarding the morality of the Vietnam War, all three films undoubtedly symbolize the psychological defeat of American soldiers.


Bibliography:
Adair, Gilbert. Vietnam on Film: from The Green Berets to Apocalypse Now. New York:
Proeus, 1981.

Cook, David A. Lost Illusions. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2000.

Miller, Stephen Paul. The Seventies Now: Culture as Surveillance. Durham, North Carolina:
Duke University Press, 1999.

Muse, Eben J. The Land of Nam: The Vietnam War in American Film. Lanham, Maryland:
Scarecrow Press, 1995.

Norris, Margot. Writing War in the Twentieth Century. Charlottesville, Virginia: University
Press of Virginia, 2000.

Westwell, Guy. War Cinema: Hollywood on the Front Line. London: Wallflower Press, 2006.

Wilson, James C. Vietnam in Prose and Film. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 1982.