“F*ck American Sniper.” This Is Not a War Story is a labor of love by professor of film Talia Lugacy, who wrote, directed, and stars in a film about a veteran’s struggle and her entrance into a community of veteran artists at a collective in NYC. What is most striking to me is the way that this movie sounds. The movie is polished to a shine with immersive monologues and a soundscape replete with speeches from politicians, interviews with leaders like Cornell West, and some really cool protest music. I think the first song you hear isn’t for at least forty minutes and yet the movie is so richly furnished with sound.
“I don’t feel comfortable around people who don’t want to kill themselves,” says Lugacy’s character, Isabelle, a painfully shy, awkward vet, constantly struggling to “make noises” (her phrase for speaking when she’s reduced to speechlessness). She is so excellently crafted (her characters are all created in consult with veterans) as one uncomfortable in her own skin. Sam Adegoke, an executive producer along with Rosario Dawson (star of Lugacy’s first film), ripples with fire and fury as Will, a peer-to-peer counselor, coming to terms with the death of one of his peers. His monologues are mesmerizing, from his poetry as he describes the ingredients in the pulp of the paper the collective uses (“sand and sweat and … Baghdad and… blood and Panama….”) to his pop culture critiques of war movies.
This Is Not a War Story breaks the mold as neither a romance nor an inspirational “healing” movie (“Healing is not a destination”). It is grungy and acerbic without being “bitter,” and there are few trite aphorisms and no moments of certainty, but every step of the way, you see the grim determination of folks who are constantly reminded of how alienated they are from their neighbors and peers. There is no room for family or dating or therapy in Isabelle’s life, so there is no room in the movie for those trite scenes so common in other movies of reunion, honor, and duty.
