I’m going to ask you to stick with me for a moment. Zero Dark Thirty is the terrorist version of The Silence of the Lambs. You take a female protagonist who is working in a world of men and who must constantly prove her worth. Think of that moment on the elevator in Silence where FBI Agent Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) is surrounded by men. They tower over her, and no one speaks to her. She isn’t dismissed, but she seems to be only barely tolerated. Now, compare that sequence to the scene in Zero Dark Thirty where Jessica Chastain’s CIA Intelligence Analyst Maya is brought into a room full of men discussing strategy in regard to the hunt for bin Laden. Where do they seat Maya? Not at the long table, but in a chair in the corner. Once again, her presence, just like Starling’s, is tolerated, but she’s clearly not in the club.
Furthermore, Maya’s efforts to find bin Laden parallel Starling’s in that a series of interrogations are showcased where Maya and Dan (a terrific Jason Clarke) attempt to extract knowledge from an imprisoned terrorist (more on the tactics employed later) to capture or kill another terrorist. What does Starling do? She interrogates a serial killer (the great Anthony Hopkins in his iconic role as Hannibal Lecter) to catch another serial killer.
In both films, you have a subtly feminist quest that two women are on to capture the worst the world has to offer. These two women have no other discernible lives. As Al Pacino’s Vincent Hanna says in HEAT, “All I am is what I’m chasing.” Maya and Clarice are chasers, and chasers have no room for love interests, small talk, or outside friendships. All they are is what they are chasing.
I’ve long believed that Zero Dark Thirty is one of the most misunderstood films of the last decade. Upon the film’s release in 2012 (just one year after the killing of bin Laden), the film was initially met with huzzahs and hosannas by critics and nearly made $100 million at the box office, despite not having a bankable star at the center. Kathryn Bigelow’s sinewy direction at times threaded the needle between dramatization and documentary. At one point, it was an Oscar frontrunner for best picture.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the opening of the envelopes. Despite Bigelow being an avowed pacifist, Zero Dark Thirty started to be seen in some liberal quarters as pro-war, pro-torture, and pro-military. On a knee-jerk level, I understand that reaction. This is a film that shows the CIA humiliating, brutalizing, and torturing a captive member of al-Qaeda in an effort to extract information that might lead to bin Laden’s location. When Seal Team Six takes two choppers into Pakistan to bin Laden’s hideout, killing a number of his protectors, and then bin Laden himself, they are shown as celebrating cowboys when they get back to base. All true.
I believe where the confusion lies is in the misunderstanding between presentation and approval. Bigelow, unlike many filmmakers, doesn’t tell us how to feel. She merely presents the events as they happened (or at least as much as one possibly can on film), and lets us decide. That’s a bold move, but I think it’s the correct one. As the film opens and a terribly soiled terrorist named Ammar (played by Reda Kateb) is tortured under the guise of “enhanced interrogation,” it is shown in truly grotesque terms. No matter how cruel Dan is to his captive, there’s never a moment of approval of his tactics. Maya herself nearly gets sick at the sight of the wretched scene, and you’d be hard-pressed not to feel her repulsion in the moment.
Furthermore, without hitting you over the head, the film actually shows that torture doesn’t work. Dan gets nothing useful from Ammar as he abuses him. It’s only when he allows him to clean up, get a proper meal, and shows him a modicum of humanity that Dan and Maya are able to extract valuable information. In fact, when a very cooked looking Dan decides to return stateside to a desk job and a suit, he can be heard saying, “I need to go do something normal for a while.” He also points out to Maya that “The politics are changing,” and “You don’t want to be the last one holding a dog collar.” The note on politics is a nod to the forthcoming change in interrogation tactics by the new Obama administration. The preceding scene shows Maya with an interrogator beating on a man who refuses to give them anything of value. Maya is then seen gasping for breath in a bathroom after watching the detainee get waterboarded. Dan and Maya may be using the tools that were approved by the Bush administration, but it’s hard not to miss the point that in debasing others, they have debased themselves. It’s unlikely that either of them will ever be “normal” again.
As for the whoops and hollers of Seal Team Six when they land on secure ground with bin Laden’s body in tow, well, it’s hard to believe that they didn’t respond to the success of their mission in that way. Osama bin Laden was the most wanted man on earth, and not only did they complete their mission by bringing his corpse back to base, they didn’t lose a single man in doing so–despite crashing one of the two helicopters. These are soldiers who did what they were told, they succeeded, and they are all still alive. Does anyone believe they would have behaved in any other fashion?
Bigelow neither condones nor condemns. She trusts the audience to sort it out. She lets us make up our own minds about what we’ve seen. That’s a complicated choice, not only for the film, but for the viewer. Zero Dark Thirty has been mislabeled as propaganda, when it is nothing of the sort. While Bigelow’s muscular direction may be persuasive and thrilling as filmmaking, the screenplay (written by Mark Boal) works only in shades of gray. All that is shown on screen is at the service of the story, and the story not only feels authentic, the particulars are often lifted from direct accounts and public record. I think the simple fact is that we all bring our own perspective to the events surrounding 9/11 and the hunt for bin Laden, and no matter how you see those circumstances personally, Bigelow neither confirms nor denies your perspective. In short, Bigelow treats us like grown-ups.
At the center of this daring and bracing film stands Jessica Chastain as Maya, in what I still consider the performance of her life (yes, I know, huge statement). Chastain stands all of 5 foot 4, but there can be no denying the towering performance she gives here. When asked who she is in a room of men who look at her in suspect fashion, she replies, “I’m the motherfucker who found this place.” “This place,” being the compound where bin Laden is hiding out in Pakistan. In the hands of a less gifted actor, that line might have come off as a shoehorned “badass” bit of dialogue cooked up by an overzealous screenwriter. But from the lips of Chastain, it is a declaration of defiance, fervent belief, and worth. She belongs in the room, motherfuckers.
Then there’s her dressing down of her superior (the sturdy Kyle Chandler) in an open hallway as she pushes him to move on the information she has gathered on bin Laden’s whereabouts. As an actor, Chandler is no one’s vision of a “soft” performer, but Chastain positively eviscerates him. I swear, the crease in the center of her forehead looks almost like a serpent begging for release so that it may be allowed to swallow Chandler whole. Here is a woman whose whole adult life has been dedicated to the pursuit of one thing and one thing only. And she’ll be damned if some overly cautious suit is going to keep her from bringing that pursuit to a close.
Maya’s will does eventually win out. But when she’s proven correct, the celebration of Seal Team Six is not something Maya takes part in. She identifies bin Laden’s body and then she moves on. The raid on the compound is brilliantly shot in what feels like real time. But there’s no flag-waving during the break-in. Men and women are killed. Children are left terrorized. While Bigelow’s camera never lingers too long on any moment in this sequence, the pain and suffering caused to innocents is not overlooked. It’s so palpable, that it’s hard not to think that in killing one terrorist leader, even one as notorious as bin Laden, that the actions of the US military will likely result in the creation of more anti-American extremists.
The movie ends with one of the most melancholy and mysterious closes in recent film history. A plane is sent to bring Maya home. She is the only passenger aboard. She buckles herself in. The pilot asks her where she wants to go. She does not respond. The camera then closes in on her face, and she begins to softly weep. What is she thinking? Are those tears of relief for someone who has finally achieved the goal of their life? And if so, why is she not celebrating? Is it exhaustion, the memories of the friends she’s lost along the way? The horrors that she has seen? I’m sure all of that is in there, but I saw something else in her eyes too.
At an earlier point in the film, Maya sits down with the CIA Director (the great James Gandolfini) and he asks, “What have you done for us, besides bin Laden.” Maya’s reply says it all. “Nothing. I’ve done nothing else.”
When your whole life has been wrapped up in one single obsession and then you’ve achieved it, the question that comes to mind is what’s next? Is this the peak accomplishment of her life? It would be hard to believe otherwise. Suddenly, Maya’s life has become a blank slate. What belongs there? Where does she go? What now?
It’s an incredibly personal ending to a film about huge, complicated, and thorny issues. Words are not necessary. Just Chastain’s face in a narrow frame going through a range of devastating emotions.
What now, indeed.
Cinematographically speaking, this movie had one of the most egregious cases of “orange & teal plague” I’ve ever had the misfortune to see. That’s the real atrocity here, beyond its endorsement of torture.
Good lord.
I liked the movie for the craft and pacing and acting, but come on, it does try to normalize the idea that Bin Laden was caught because of torture when in reality it was a CIA operative playing chess with a prisoner that got the name of the courier. Time has made a lot of people collectively forget that US torture programs were incredibly controversial at the time, and the appearance of torture apologia in a film literally a year after the Bin Laden raid was going to sit badly with a lot of people.
Torture WAS normal at the time, but that being said, at no point in the film is torture shown as working. Not once. Tell me the moment when they show torture working. You come on. I’ll wait.
Not if you ask like that I’m not.
Mhmm. Decent attempt but no. The whole 9/11 / invasion of Iraq/ Bin Laden discourse deserves a profoundly complex level of soul searching that Americans seem incapable of accessing. And Zero Dark Thirty cinematically illustrates this inhibition. No, no, no and NO. Just NO.
The film is about a distinct moment in time. It’s not a so-called retro of 9/11. The movie was made one year after bin Laden’s death. Introspection usually comes after the event. This film is about the event. You’re reviewing the film for what it isn’t and wasn’t trying to be. So, here’s a suggestion, write your own article. If you can.
An arrogantly ethnocentric, borderline fascistic and jarringly insular take is an arrogantly ethnocentric, borderline fascistic and jarringly insular take. This was the case in 2012 and it remains the case in 2023.
Maybe they should have taken your advice and waited for “introspection” before tackling such a thorny subject. But judging by the lack of depth and accountability that continues to color America’s coverage of the Iraq war and its ensuing consequences, “introspection” might only find a lot of Americans in another life – certainly not this one.
Good day.
I agree with the “good day” part.
**** ***.
I didn’t want to put the actual words, but maybe you can figure them out.
After reading further down, I see my sentiments can apply to more than one person.
A fairy tale to justify torture and summary executions. A Zero to me. Not worth discussion, just gave my two cents about this abysmal piece of fascist propaganda. Won’t reply, but can’t look to other side when products like this are celebrated as art.
(by the way, son of a military, raised half-way in an air base, and with my family labelled as primary target for terrorists).
Not worth your discussion, but here your mouth is anyway. And I’m a military son too. That doesn’t gain you anything here. And BTW, I would consider it a kindness it f you didn’t comment on my articles. It’s always the same bullshit with you. I hope I never sit next to you on a plane. I’ll turn into William fucking Shatner.
Absolutely one of my favorites. It really gets going once you get to the more “procedural” section which I’m always a sucker for if done well in a film. I like the SotL tie in here. I’ve always thought that Chandler speech was overly wordy as written but that Chastain does an excellent job of accenting and punctuating the dialogue so that it pops. And the…”I’ve done nothing else” delivery…so much depends on that moment in the film to understand her character. Nice write up!
Everybody wrote a lot about this film, but I’d like to single out somebody who delivers such a complex and nuanced performance in this film and got nothing — Jennifer Ehle. This past season, Ehle was brilliant in yet another brief role (in She Said). This woman is one of the most underrated film performers. At least Broadway truly loves her and she has two Tonys to her name. But she’s brilliant in Zero Dark Thirty and deserved a supporting actress win. In addition, the other MVP in the supporting cast is definitely Jason Clarke, another underrated actor.
Bullseye Times 2. Couldn’t have said it better.
Both Mr Clarke & Ms Ehle were sublime in ZDT with latter indeed also doing wonders with her short time in She Said (The most underrated film of 2022 to me).
I liked Ehle better in She Said, where she had more to do. Clarke was great though, and both are underrated.
She’s terrific in the movie, but her part is very small. You can’t write about everything in a single article.
I love ZDT, I forget to think about it because it so rarely comes up, but it’s definitely one of the top 20 or so of the decade. If I eliminate obscure gay films, it’s definitely top 10. I think people sometimes forget Bigelow’s ability to create an utterly gorgeous frame. I kept this photo up as my comp screen background for a few years. Even know I am stunned at how beautiful it is. It doesn’t hurt that Taylor Kinney is in it, but he’s not good looking enough to be as good looking as he is in this photo. It’s a testament to the cinematographer as well.
https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ab/94/53/ab9453a497ff400834cf0d6234b900d7–film-zero-taylor-kinney.jpg
Excellent reframe. I revisited it last year and nudged it up in my esteem. Some thoughts I left then:
…on second viewing I enjoyed the breathing space of a decade hence which renders the film easier to embrace over its depiction of then recent events. As someone then alienated by the gung-ho media tone taken over several recent assassinations (brutal despots or no), it was still a bit too fresh at the time…
At the time I was an Argo supporter during that race, it gave me gut BP feels from the advanced screening (and also then preferred the likes of Lincoln, Life of Pi and Amour, maybe even Les Mis; couple worthy nominees). Also worth remembering that Bigelow was coming off a BP/BD win, so some fatigue/backlash at being in the running again (with quick topical turnaround), and Hurt Locker itself has grown in esteem with time.
…those two and a half hours have almost no fat whatsoever, it flies by from excellent scene to excellent scene. Huge on-form prestige ensemble. It rivets, it resonates, intelligently coarse without bait sentiment. So many Australians involved in this film. I clearly wasn’t familiar with Chris Pratt at the time (let alone Jeremy Strong!). Say what you will about the film’s perspective, but it does capture something indelible of the Dubya/Obama era many of us Gen X/Ys came of age in ([ala] The Newsroom, another straight-off-the-presses geopolitical-minded contemporary workplace depiction that felt as authentic a timestamp as anything to my experiences then)…
I also adore TSotL, and find that you connected the two very well.
For the record, my personal 2012 faves are The Master, Tabu & Bernie. None of the BP nominees crack my top 10 (close though), and ZD30 is just outside my top 30.
At the time, Moonrise Kingdom and The Master were predictable narrow misses, a shame because they would have elevated that lineup even more, but the Cotillard snub for Rust & Bone was more infuriating to me. I never understood the Beasts of the Southern Wild thing, possibly my least favourite nominee of 2010-16.
I’ve often pondered over that haunting closing scene of the film and that priceless look on Chastain’s face. Those eyes!! And you know what else was great in the film and THAT scene? Alexandre Desplat’s magnificent score. Desplat wasn’t even nominated. He should’ve WON that year. ZD30’s score remains one of Desplat’s very best.
It should’ve won film editing as well.
When you’re right, you’re right. And you are right. Those simple notes are perfect.
Ok, I’m dead.
I was blown away by reading this exquisite Reframe for one of my favorite films of the previous decade. From the unexpected Silence of The Lambs intro that beautifully makes perfect sense after reading it to the unsettling and unacceptable way it was brought down (I didn’t even feel it was that documentary like and felt it was actually anti-torture but…) to the closings about Ms Chastain’s look and eyes…
They still haunt me whenever I think about this masterpiece and WHAT ON EARTH, I too something else in those eyes. Truly wish she had won an Oscar for that role (& look).
Thank you for making my day with this beautiful piece.
And you have now made mine. Thank you SO very much.
While Chastain eventually got the “makeup” Oscar, she deserved it here, astounding work. In fact top to bottom, should have been a bigger deal at Oscars, not sure of the politics or such but just fantastic moviemaking and glad for this focus on it.
I think she did more than wear makeup, but I do take your point. It’s like Pacino getting the Oscar for Scent. It’s a makeup. But really, who gives a shit? Awards aren’t that important.
I know I’m in the minority on this one, but I found ZERO DARK THIRTY to be one of the worst “acclaimed movies” of the past decade. I found it unintentionally funny (I wasn’t the only one who chuckled in the cinema watching a ridiculous looking Jessica Chastian as a CIA agent wearing that wig during that interrogation scene, which reminded me of the furry beard disguises in Team America: World Police) and the worst kind of morally repugnant propaganda on multiple levels.
The only aspect of the film I found worth acclaim was Jennifer Ehle’s performance. But what else is new? She’s always excellent.
Yeah, whatever.
The wig in that scene was a formality. That disguise was just for the sake of it. It never was meant to be a Mission Impossible level disguise.
My advice: Watch the movie again. And make sure you do so with someone who has the ability to think before laughing.
Or just think, period.
I made no personal comments about you and hurled no insults at you. I criticized the film. I don’t agree with the praise for this film. To you this means I have no ability to think? Why resort to personal insults when we are just talking about a difference of opinion about a movie?
Not liking the film is fine, but when you compare ZDT to Team America, you’re not offering an honest critique, you’re just trying to be cute. And you failed. Live with it.
I did watch it the first time with a very clear and sober mind. I concentrate when I’m watching a serious movie and I am “able to think” and did “think” before laughing at that particular scene with the wig, and I recall it well. I do not agree with your assessment of that scene. Does that mean I don’t know how to think? Maybe for you it does. I am able to think well enough to know that people can have different opinions without resorting to unnecessary insults.
I love the smell of misogyny in the morning.
Thanks for this reframing of a movie I loved, appreciated, and watched multiple times. I was mesmerized by it in the theater and thought Chastain should have won the Oscar for it.
Yes, she sure as shit should have.
ZD30 was the best movie of 2012. Should’ve swept Oscars, including Best Actress. Bigelow was robbed big time.
P.S. This remains Chastain’s most accomplished role and performance. She’s yet to top it.
She’s been great in a number of things since, but I agree. That being said, her work in ZDT is a hard bar to clear…for anyone.