3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for war violence, dramatic intensity and mild profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.9.17
Next time my parents grouse that
movies aren’t like they used to be, I’ll point them toward this one.
Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s
Megan Leavey is a straight-ahead
drama with plenty of heart, told in the uncomplicated manner that marked
family-friendly movies back in the day ... and I mean that as a compliment.
Scripters Pamela Gray, Annie Mumolo and Tim Lovestedt tell this story
efficiently and poignantly, without needless emotional angst, and Cowperthwaite
ensures that the narrative doesn’t slide into manipulative bathos.
Best of all, this is a true
story: one likely to be remembered by those who followed the saga’s final
chapter in 2012. While events have been compressed — as often is the case, with
big-screen adaptations — Cowperthwaite and her collaborators hit the essential
high points; the result is a thoroughly engaging and deeply poignant drama. And
if you’re not moved by the final scene, you’re truly made of stone.
On a sidebar note, it also marks
a solid star turn by Kate Mara, who has spent the last decade impressing TV
viewers with memorable supporting roles in 24,
American Horror Story and House of Cards. She hasn’t been as lucky
with big-screen work — and probably wishes that 2015’s Fantastic Four hadn’t happened — but this new film should enhance
her profile, and deservedly so.
Her Megan Leavey is introduced
here in 2003, as an aimless, desperately unhappy 20-year-old New Yorker taking
up space in her bedroom. Her mother, Jackie (Edie Falco), has become disgusted
by this daughter who, we can assume, probably has been a nightmare child for
many years. Then again, Jackie is no prize; Falco makes her such a believably
horrid shrike that Leavey’s actual mother might have grounds for character
assassination.
At low ebb and with no other
plans, Megan impulsively joins the Marines, surviving boot camp and
subsequently attending military police school at San Diego’s Camp Pendleton.
But her “wild child” tendencies haven’t quite been eradicated; an ill-advised
night of misbehavior results in a week of scut detail in the camp’s kennel unit
... and the promise of a dishonorable discharge, if she screws up one more
time.
Not to worry. Megan is
immediately fascinated by the K9 unit, and particularly by a massive,
apparently unruly German shepherd named Rex. Gaining permission to have
anything to do with this dog, however, means buckling down in all sorts of
ways, before the K9 unit’s gruff Sgt. Gunny Martin (Common) will give her even
a second glance.
During the sort of “toughen up”
montage that Rocky made famous,
Cowperthwaite economically depicts Megan’s transformation in spirit (if not
body; Mara never quite matches the actual Leavey’s more commanding physique).
It’s an engaging sequence, Megan tolerating good-natured gibes from the other
handlers, particularly during an apprenticeship period with her “pseudo-dog.”
She eventually gets her chance
with Rex, and — no surprise — the two bond. The first moment of mutual trust, over
a meal delivery, is pure magic.
In due time, Megan and Rex are
deployed to Iraq, where she becomes one of the first female handlers to operate
in an active combat zone. Her understandable terror is alleviated by fellow
handler Matt Morales (Ramón Rodríguez), who has a similarly unbreakable bond
with his dog, Chico.
And this, at the risk of
inserting spoilers, is where I must stop. This film’s second act gets its
nail-biting tension from suspense and uncertainty, and the story’s blunt
depiction of a job that requires incalculable degrees of bravery and calm. If
Cowperthwaite doesn’t quite achieve the levels of chest-clutching anxiety that
characterized lengthy stretches of The Hurt Locker and the 1979 British TV series Danger
UXB, it’s by modulated design; an entirely different level of stress awaits
us, in the third act.
Mara easily holds our attention
throughout, with a role that navigates one of cinema’s most satisfying
character arcs: that of blossoming into an actual human being. Mara’s
performance is unfussy, absent the method-acting tics and twitches that often
distract from a character’s primary conflict; we simply watch Megan mature, and that’s sufficient.
Which isn’t to say that the role
is undemanding. Mara delivers a credible emotional range, given the varied
challenges that Megan confronts and conquers.
Common contributes a solid
performance as Gunny, and doesn’t make the sergeant a one-note martinet; his
behavior is quite reasonable, for a man responsible for the training and
deployment of so many handlers and dogs. He wants to be sure, and — at first blush — Leavey gives him plenty of reason for
doubt.
The same cannot be said for
Geraldine James, whose flat-out nasty behavior as the K9 unit staff
veterinarian is inexplicable. She’s the sort of one-note, exaggerated adversary
that this otherwise reasonably balanced story doesn’t need.
Rodríguez’s Morales is the
epitome of honor, toughness and compassion: the in-country buddy we’d all love
to have at our side. Bradley Whitford is equally memorable in his understated
role as Megan’s father; he gets the story’s most important speech, and Whitford
delivers it superbly.
Most of Rex’s scenes are handled
by a dog named Varco, who — let it be said — comes close to stealing the film.
It’s not merely his soulful eyes; he has a way of cocking his head, of standing
at attention, that makes us believe that he not only understands every single
word, but can read minds. In other words, he’s simply a perfect dog.
The film’s compression of time is
felt most in the second act, which — of narrative necessity — minimizes the
impressive work actually done by Leavey and Rex. We get little sense of the
fact that they completed more than 100 missions during two six-month tours in
Fallujah and Ramadi. (The film also completely overlooks the fact that Rex had
been teamed with Sgt. Mike Dowling in 2004, prior to being assigned to Leavey:
details depicted in Dowling’s 2012 book, Sergeant
Rex.)
Clearly, the “book of Rex” has
many chapters; this film covers the latter half of this dog’s amazing life, and
the equally inspiring bond that made such a difference in Leavey’s life. Megan Leavey is her story, and it’s a
saga told with sincerity, respect and dramatic heft. It’s a modest little film
that succeeds in its goals.
And
yes, Cowperthwaite satisfies our desire, prior to the end credits, to see some
footage of the actual Leavey and Rex.
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