Fervent courage

‘Hacksaw Ridge’ is an unlikely combination of jingoism and pacifism

Jesus never fought in a war. But if he had, his service probably would’ve looked a lot like the kind displayed by Desmond Doss.

The key, of course, is that Doss never actually fought, yet his heroism near the end of World War II earned him the Medal of Honor, making him the first conscientious objector to be awarded the U.S. military’s highest tribute.

“Hacksaw Ridge”—the film that dramatizes Doss’s story, named after the site at the Battle of Okinawa where Doss did the miraculous—effectively combines the two most unlikely of traits: jingoism and pacifism. It’s a bizarre contradiction in a movie defined by them.

As a volunteer (not a reluctant draftee), Army combat medic Desmond Doss (portrayed on film by Andrew Garfield) was a devout Seventh-Day Adventist Christian who, according to his faith, refused to take a life. Instead, Doss would go on to save 75 lives in one of the war’s most gruesome battles while never defending himself, an irony equal to the fact that his story is told by one of Hollywood’s most controversial purveyors of violence: Mel Gibson.

“Hacksaw Ridge” melds the brutal content and sacrificial spirit of Gibson’s two most famous works—“Braveheart” and “The Passion of the Christ”—while having a split personality of its own (fitting for a filmmaker who’s own life has had a Jekyll & Hyde trajectory). The movie’s second hour explodes with manifest warfare and carnage, but the first is starkly conventional.

The opening thirty minutes charts Doss’s pre-war life, from formative childhood events to the romance—portrayed, at times, in rather corny fashion—between Doss and his would-be wife, Dorothy (Teresa Palmer). The narrative is safe, both in structure and tone, and the boot camp section that follows has stock genre clichés (albeit very entertaining ones) led by Vince Vaughn’s drill sergeant and his colorfully creative profanities, nicknames, and insults.

In short, “Hacksaw Ridge” is Mel Gibson’s softest hour of filmmaking followed up by his hardest.

Indeed, when the explicit combat begins, the familiar conventional build-up—which appeared to lack sophistication—suddenly seems intentional by design. Having lulled us into a palatable, accessible formula, Gibson suddenly thrusts us into the vile gore of war. The leap is jarring, and makes the war scenes even more grotesque and repulsive by contrast.

Yet to its credit, the film’s pre-war boot camp section is a strategic, thematic transition. It’s here that Doss’s pacifism is first put to the test (and, arguably, its greatest). His refusal to bear arms draws mockery, then hazing, from his platoon. Soon, he’s forced to firmly decline direct orders. Most others would’ve caved any number of times under what Doss had to face, from everyone. But in establishing his unwavering resolve here, Doss’s refusal to wield weapons on the field of battle when his life is actually on the line becomes not only credible, but inevitable.

As Doss, Andrew Garfield is first-rate, always meek but never weak. He embodies how to live out one’s convictions: with piety, but without judgment toward others—and in service to them. That should be a lesson for anyone, and a resonant one for a movie that opens just days before an election in which partisan ideologues belittle those who vote their conscience.

Gibson’s re-creation of twentieth century warfare is, suffice it to say, unforgettably visceral in its appropriate excess, and masterfully rendered. In its grisly fog, Doss becomes the ballsiest guy you’ve ever seen, yet there’s not an ounce of machismo in him, proving there’s more than one way to “be a man.” It’s a stirring feat of bravery to behold, and the most challenging form of courage ever venerated in a war movie.

"Hacksaw Ridge" opens nationwide November 4.

For more from Jeff, read his review of "The Hollars."