Although director Guy Ritchie’s harrowing war drama is a fictionalized extrapolation of actual events, it’ll resonate strongly with anybody horrified by what has become of Afghanistan.
Americans who served there likely will find this particularly grim viewing.
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| Although Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal, right) has been told that the road ahead is safe, he eventually yields to the insistence of his interpreter, Ahmed (Dar Salim), who is convinced that something is amiss. |
Nor was this merely a case of being “left behind.” It was — and remains — common knowledge that the Taliban would hunt down, torture and execute Afghans who previously worked alongside U.S. and NATO forces.
One of a well-crafted story’s strongest assets is its ability to transform an abstract — “thousands” — into a tightly focused saga of symbolic individuals. That’s definitely the case here.
It’s March 2018, the setting Bagram Air Base, Parwan Province, in Taliban-occupied Afghanistan. Army Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal) — on his final tour of duty, looking forward to returning home to his wife and children — leads an elite unit tasked with finding Taliban munitions. A routine search at a vehicle checkpoint goes awry when two of Kinley’s men — one of them the group’s Afghan interpreter — are killed by a lorry bomb.
Back at base, in need of a new interpreter, John selects Ahmed (Dar Salim) from half a dozen willing candidates. John is impressed by Ahmed’s ability to speak “four languages worth speaking,” but is cautioned about the newcomer’s reputation for independent thinking.
As it soon turns out, Ahmed knows stuff … lots of who, what and where. Even so, the initial dynamic is prickly; John, not accustomed to being questioned by a “mere translator,” views such behavior as borderline insubordination. (“Actually,” Ahmed retorts at one point, “I’m here to interpret.”) Gyllenhaal’s gaze and attitude stop just shy of being condescending or racist; John simply is more accustomed to strict protocol and the military chain of command.
Salim, in turn, grants Ahmed a multitude of depth via his expression and body language: intelligence, wariness, quiet nobility and — most of all — mild amusement, at the arrogance of Americans who claim to “know better.”
When the unit is deployed once again on the house-by-house search of a nearby village, Ahmed’s initial efforts to help — outside his interpreter duties — are rebuffed by John, who nonetheless notes the accuracy of the new man’s input. A few sorties later, armed with information on two potential Taliban IED manufacturing sites, Ahmed’s instincts prove very helpful during a drive to the first.
The second alleged manufacturing site is 120 kilometers away; John’s unit sets off the next day. Although the intel proves accurate, the assault on the IED factory goes appallingly awry; John and Ahmed wind up fleeing on foot, heading into a nearby forest, with dozens of gun-toting Taliban fighters close behind. Worse yet, the regional Taliban commander wants them captured alive.
By this point, John wisely has decided to trust Ahmed unreservedly.
And you’ll get no further details, in order to preserve the well-developed suspense and tension that Ritchie and his co-writers deliver during the next 90 minutes.
This is a complete change of tone for the director, best known for snarky crime dramedies — Snatch, The Gentlemen — and similarly cheeky revivals of established properties such as Sherlock Holmes and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. This grim war thriller, in complete contrast, is played completely straight: proof positive that Ritchie intends it as advocacy cinema.
The developing bond between John and Ahmed is credible and thoroughly engaging. Gyllenhaal and Salim work well together, and both are convincing in their roles. Ahmed, in particular, exudes pluck, cunning, raw strength and never-quit determination, all of which prove essential during what is to come.
Jonny Lee Miller is equally solid as Col. Vokes, John’s sympathetic commanding officer: outwardly by the book, but willing to encourage outside-the-box thinking. Alexander Ludwig also is fine as Sgt. Declan O’Brady, John’s best friend and Vokes’ similarly “helpful” assistant.
The story’s softer emotional element is supplied by Emily Beecham, as John’s devoted and supportive wife, Caroline; she’s an equal partner in their Southern California-based vehicle restoration business. Beecham conveys much during her brief scenes; Caroline has the telling gaze of one whose partner puts his life on the line every day, but it’s also clear that she has made peace with this, recognizing the importance of remaining a fully engaged parent to their children.
Beecham also is quietly powerful when Caroline delivers the story’s most telling speech; we initially expect it to slide one way, but she surprises us by pivoting in the opposite direction.
However…
The story’s solid premise and the excellent acting notwithstanding, Ritchie overcooks his ingredients: too much bombast, too many unnecessary tight-tight close-ups, and a relentless, thunderous synth “score” that initially is merely obnoxious, but soon becomes insufferably distracting. (I refuse to call Christopher Benstead’s efforts “music.”)
The divide between absorbing drama and exaggerated contrivance can be quite thin, and Ritchie skirts the ragged edge, particularly during the final 20 minutes. Perhaps he was out of his career comfort zone; perhaps he didn’t sufficiently trust the material. Either way, his already compelling film would have been even more riveting, had his directorial hand been applied less visibly.
That said, The Covenant succeeds on its stronger merits, and certainly deserves to be recognized as an important indictment — and longstanding reminder — of a tragic American screw-up.
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