The Vietnam War movie they wanted you to forget | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

The Viet­nam War movie they want­ed you to forget

31 Jul 2019

Black-and-white image of a man with a serious expression, wearing a casual jacket and standing in a blurred environment.
Black-and-white image of a man with a serious expression, wearing a casual jacket and standing in a blurred environment.
Ignored by the media and under­mined by Nixon, Win­ter Sol­dier remains a vital snap­shot of the coun­ter­cul­ture era.

This sum­mer marks 50 years since the coun­ter­cul­ture rev­o­lu­tions of 1969, an era where the Viet­nam War raged and Richard Nixon fanned the flames of divi­sion across the US. For a new BBC Arts film series, Inside Cin­e­ma, Christi­na New­land looks at coun­ter­cul­ture film­mak­ing dur­ing the Nixon years – and how some films were made to disappear.

If you look up the director’s cred­it for the 1972 Viet­nam War doc­u­men­tary Win­ter Sol­dier, you won’t exact­ly learn much. The film is cred­it­ed to the Win­ter­film Col­lec­tive’, an enig­mat­ic group of stu­dent film­mak­ers and anti-war activists who can­ni­ly chose to remain under the umbrel­la of that title than to iden­ti­fy them­selves individually.

Self-con­grat­u­la­tion or any sense of auteurism was brushed aside for the greater good: the faith­ful obser­va­tion of an unof­fi­cial war crimes tri­bunal organ­ised by Viet­nam Vet­er­ans Against the War. Tak­ing place over three days in Detroit and fea­tur­ing the tes­ti­monies of over a hun­dred vets from all sec­tions of the mil­i­tary, the doc was incen­di­ary in its por­tray­al of the scope and mag­ni­tude of Amer­i­can crimes against human­i­ty in Vietnam.

The lean black-and-white film, made most­ly in vérité style and in ago­nised close-ups of the faces of the haunt­ed young men who tell their sto­ries, is inter­cut with a sprin­kle of colour footage from the con­flict itself. In their own words, the men – His­pan­ic, African-Amer­i­can, Native Amer­i­can and white, with army buzz cuts grown out into hip­pie hair­styles and beards – tack­le the awful task of describ­ing the atroc­i­ties they both wit­nessed and took part in.

Some were com­plic­it in the mas­sacring of civil­ians or hor­ri­fied bystanders; oth­ers dis­cuss the casu­al cru­el­ty of the high­er com­mand, while oth­ers describe acts of dis­em­bow­el­ment and rape. Sit­ting before an aghast audi­ence, they address the utter indif­fer­ence – even encour­age­ment – of mil­i­tary brass. Their eyes flash between wry cyn­i­cism in one moment and blank ter­ror in the next.

Sullen and inar­tic­u­late, some men can only nod in agree­ment with their more out­spo­ken com­pa­tri­ots. The sim­ple focus on their tes­ti­mo­ny under­lines the unimag­in­able bru­tal­i­ty of the acts described; one beard­ed young vet tells his har­row­ing sto­ry in full close-up, giv­ing us no choice but to stare back at his glassy, detached expres­sion. The sparse style and con­fir­ma­tion of furtive polit­i­cal mis­deeds give the feel of some lost snip­pet of John Franken­heimer footage.

Portrait of a soldier in combat uniform, holding a rifle.

The film rais­es star­tling ques­tions about just how per­va­sive war crimes were, but how they were tac­it­ly sup­port­ed by the Nixon admin­is­tra­tion. The vets them­selves are both sym­pa­thet­ic and unfath­omable. No oth­er doc­u­men­tary film from the peri­od dares to paint a pic­ture of sol­diers at their most naked­ly unheroic; or stares so intent­ly into the psy­ches of those who were com­plic­it in the worst of human behaviour.

Win­ter Sol­dier had an extreme­ly lim­it­ed release in 1972, screen­ing in small art­house cin­e­mas in New York City and at Euro­pean film fes­ti­vals like Cannes, where it received pos­i­tive notices but no major dis­tri­b­u­tion deals in North Amer­i­ca. Its urgency notwith­stand­ing, the film came out at a grind­ing­ly divi­sive moment in Amer­i­can life.

Bogged down in a bloody, unwinnable con­flict abroad and on the verge of wide­spread civ­il unrest at home, the film was almost total­ly ignored by the main­stream news­pa­pers and tele­vi­sion chan­nels at the time. It went lit­tle seen by any­one at all until 2005, when a com­pa­ny called Mil­liar­i­um Zero gave the film a brief re-release in NYC cin­e­mas and it received some renewed crit­i­cal attention.

Still, there was prob­a­bly anoth­er rea­son why the film­mak­ers who made Win­ter Sol­dier- includ­ing Acad­e­my Award win­ning doc­u­men­tar­i­an Bar­bara Kop­ple (Har­lan Coun­ty, USA) and PBS reg­u­lar David Gru­bin (Amer­i­can Expe­ri­ence) remained qui­et about their involve­ment for so long.

There were risks implic­it in mak­ing your name known to the noto­ri­ous­ly vin­dic­tive Nixon admin­is­tra­tion, and Nixon paid close atten­tion to anti-war groups and those in the media who had crit­i­cised him. In the wake of the Water­gate scan­dal in 1974, leaked doc­u­ments were dis­cov­ered which revealed that Nixon’s plumbers’ active­ly hoped to dis­cred­it Viet­nam Vet­er­ans Against the War and sought out evi­dence that the tes­ti­monies in Win­ter Sol­dier were fake. No such evi­dence was ever found, but that didn’t stop them from trying.

Episodes of Inside Cin­e­ma are released week­ly on BBC iPlay­er. Watch Christina’s video essay, Nixon’s Amer­i­ca: A Coun­try Divid­ed, here.

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