Day 91: Letters from Iwo Jima

"Do not expect to return home alive."

War films are one of the most tried and true ways of putting people in the theater and making them cry. Yet, the most disappointing aspect about war films is that they’re domestically inclined, meaning that their perspectives are shown through only the eyes of the home country. Obviously U.S. filmmakers put an emphasis on U.S. based war films. We can attribute this to the filmmakers love for their home country, but we can also attribute this to the fact that when our country is fighting in a war, we distinctively see ourselves as the good guy. Whoever should find themselves matched up against us is clearly the evil doer that we must exterminate by any means necessary. If there was ever a war film that accentuated this notion, it’d be the war films that depict the carnage of World War II. Through the years, this epic war has been romanticized to great lengths. Soldiers of liberty strolled up and down the European Theater to ensure freedom for all. Wonderful as it is to relive our deconstruction of the Nazi regime, who were without a doubt a true evil, there are varying perspectives that get lost in time and swept up in the romantic views that war takes. Such a varying perspective is that of the Japanese, one of the powers of the Axis allegiance. Through Clint Eastwood’s “Letters from Iwo Jima”, we get to see a humanistic side to the enemies that for sixty years we swore were monsters.

Eastwood cleanses our palette, showing that the perceived enemy is merely human beings working for the war machinations that bound a nation. The film, featuring a black and white( with a hint of sepia tone) visual distinction, feels as if we’re looking back at historical photographs through a completely different lens. We’re dropped directly onto the island of Iwo Jima, the last stand for many Japanese soldiers. Days before the U.S. invasion, Lt. General Tadamichi Kuribayashi (Ken Wantanabe) takes control of the decimated Japanese troops, who are seen feverishly digging trenches which will seemingly double as their grave. Knowing the destiny that awaits them, Kuribayashi scouts the ravaged land of Iwo Jima as a means to develop the last form of defense for his men. Having spent time with the Americans, Kuribayashi is seen as a savior by higher ups of the Japanese regime, but even he knows his plotting will do his men no good. Nonetheless, Kuribayashi centralizes his men’s attacks around Iwo Jima’s mountainous terrain, so at least they have some form of chance, if only initially. Eventually the Americans land and they take heavy damage. In time though, the Americans assert themselves. What ensues is an unbalanced battle that heavily favors the Americans, as the Japanese fall back in to mountains, using their land as their final stand of defense. Accompanying the undeniable firepower and numbers of the American soldiers are the receding amounts of food rations and unsanitary living conditions within the caves. With no chance of evading their enemies, and the dwindling chances of succeeding in their mission, the Japanese are faced with a dilemma: die by the swift hand of those knocking on their door or committing suicide to preserve their honor in the eyes of Japan.

From this dilemma, Eastwood constructs a complex and poetic film that looks at what it means to be honorable in a war that is anything but. Featuring stripped down visuals and a barren landscape, the film is hardly romanticized at least from the perspective of good and evil. If there is one romanticized aspect of the film it’s the Japanese’s undeniable determination to serve their country with valor in spite of the uphill battle they will inevitably fail to climb. No scene demonstrates this more than a haunting moment in which a platoon of Japanese soldiers commit collective suicide in the bellows of their land. Through the use of putting hand grenades to their chests, the soldiers die in a fashion that Western civilization  may deem cowardice, but one that’s ultimately showing of the lengths they’ll go to die with the honor their culture installs in them. It’s also in this scene where the complexity of the Japanese is shown with grace and emotion. Many do the deed willingly, while others do it with great hesitation as they know doing it will cripple their family emotionally, but not doing it will cripple their nation’s pride.  So, what we have are soldiers determining what is more important: their inherent, naturalistic need for survival or the solidification of their reputation amongst the soldiers that have fallen before them. Eastwood, along with the script by Paul Haggis and Iris Yamashita, magnify the complexity with wrought scenes of tragedy that will make it hard for you keep a lump from developing in your throat. Suddenly an enemy, one that was deemed savage like during war time, has the same trials and tribulations as their common enemy. Both sides are forced to do things they wouldn’t normally do, all in the name of survival and pride.

Aside from  exploring the complexities Japanese soldiers faced during World War II, the film also adequately represents a piece of historical inspiration. By all accounts, the Japanese soldiers on Iwo Jima were dead before the Americans even landed. Despite this notion, they fought on as if they had a fighter’s chance. Much of this will can be attributed to the leadership of Kuribayashi, who is unrelentingly played by Ken Watanabe. It’s hard to describe, but there is a passion and fervor that radiates from Watanabe’s eyes and echoes from his heart.  He embodies everything it means to be a leader, and his performance throughout the film reinforces the sacrifices all of the characters make. It’s hard for an actor, and a film for that matter, to be sentimental without being exploitative. But, Watanabe and Eastwood, along with the rest of the cast, deliver a fantastic film that serves as a memoriam to those who perished on the Japanese side. Most importantly though, “Letters from Iwo Jima”  is the rare film that humanizes the enemies that haunt our past. Sure, there were moments in history where the Japanese soldiers committed horrendous acts, but then again so did everyone else in the realm of war. A country’s army isn’t entirely representative of the individuals that make it up. I’d like to thank Mr. Eastwood for recognizing that fact and giving us at least a different perspective to view war from.