Saturday, January 01, 2005

Ladder 49

It has always been difficult to portray firefighters as anything other than heroic because, let’s face it, they are. But since those events in New York of September three years ago, they have become, in America at least, even more of a sacred cow than they ever were.

To Ladder 49’s credit, September 11th is never directly mentioned. The film is even set in Baltimore to try and distance it from that tragic event. Yet those unforgettable images of the ash, blood and dust covered men of the New York Fire Department staggering out of the rubble of the World Trade Centre have informed every frame of this movie.

The most successful film about firefighters to date, 1991’s Backdraft, allowed an exploration of internal rivalries between the movie’s smoke-choked heroes; in today’s climate it seems that even this could be seen as a criticism. There is almost no human conflict on display here – just irreproachable decency, honour and respect both for the profession and for each individual fireman who has made the noble sacrifice of constantly putting their lives on the line to save others.

There are no real character flaws among these men, as they can be seen to be nothing other than perfect heroes. But without flaws, they seem less human. As such, it is hard to truly connect or identify with them. That in turn doesn’t make for an especially strong or interesting film.

All this is despite being focussed around good performances from the two leads – the rookie Joaquin Phoenix and veteran chief John Travolta. They both turn in decent enough showings to make the most of the material, which comes slightly more to life when Phoenix is trapped in a blazing building, with Travolta frantically coordinating rescue efforts on the ground.

But then the rookie fireman starts having a series of flashbacks to his nascent career, family life and the benevolence of his older mentor, and the Hollywood schmaltz goes into overdrive. Although Travolta’s presence can be explained through his recent poor performances, it is a wonder that Phoenix, whose choices of role are normally superb, would associate himself with such platitudinous pap.

The true aim of this film rapidly becomes clear – it is thinly-disguised propaganda and little more. After a couple of years of ever-growing criticisms of the men who were labelled heroes in America after September 11th – the likes of the Abu Ghraib torture scandal shattering the myth of US moral superiority along with the idea of those who serve the flag being irreproachable – this seems little more than an attempt to revive the unanimity of respect and patriotic pride of the immediate post-9/11 period.

This may work for some American audiences, but box office returns were not overly impressive across the Atlantic despite this being released on the anniversary of 9/11, and UK cinemagoers are traditionally a rather more cynical bunch anyway.

It is difficult to see what the attraction could be here – underneath the propaganda this is little more than an overly sentimental exercise in emotions-by-numbers male bonding. Whether it helps revive American national pride is debatable; one thing that is for certain is that it will do little to help the careers of any involved.

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