"Letters from Iwo Jima" | What if there were no enemies
Both "Flags of our Fathers" and "Letters from Iwo Jima," Clint Eastwood's elegant pair of World War II dramas, end on a wordless, haunting note: "Flags" concludes with the sound of a breeze gently blowing a flag; "Letters" on the echo of waves softly crashing on a shore. These are unexpected images on which to close crowded, violent war stories, but both fit perfectly: Eastwood has found the quiet soul of each film. The flag still flies, the waves forever ebb and flow.
"Letters," written by Iris Yamashita, is the mirror image of the story of the battle of Iwo Jima depicted in "Flags," from the perspective of the other side. Initially through letters, we meet several Japanese soldiers, sent to the island with the knowledge that they may well not return. Under the command of Lt. Gen. Tadamichi Kuribayashi (Ken Watanabe), they endure a long combat, retreating into an elaborate network of caves and pondering their brief future.
These soldiers approach their fate with talk not of how they will prevail, but of duty and honor. "I trust that you will fight with honor," says the general in a pre-battle speech. "No one is allowed to die until he has killed 10 enemy soldiers. Do not expect to return home alive."
In washed-out tones of brown and khaki, mimicking the colors of the troops' uniforms (blood, used sparingly, is startlingly crimson, seeming to sear a hole in the screen), the film plays out in a mood of resignation and control. The soldiers emerge not as lockstep minions but nuanced individuals. Kuribayashi leads the troops with an imposing dignity, but in his letters home apologizes profusely for not "attending to the kitchen floor before I left." We see Saigo (Kazunari Ninomiya), a baker, receiving his draft notice while his very young wife sobs; touchingly, he promises his unborn baby that he will come home.
These, we realize, are the "enemy" referred to in "Flags"; likewise, in "Letters," the enemy of whom they speak are the all-too-real American soldiers in "Flags." Eastwood has achieved something remarkable with this pair of films: Together, they make a war story without an enemy. Both sides are made real; both fight with honor; both write letters home and dream of war's end.
In "Letters," the Japanese army is shaken by a letter found on a wounded American soldier. Read aloud, the letter is from the soldier's mother, with quiet news from home and a final exhortation to "always do what is right, because it is right. Love, Mom." A Japanese soldier ponders those words. "I was taught that they were savages," he says, "but his mother's words were the same as my mother."
In the caves, director of photography Tom Stern finds enigmatic shadows and thin light illuminating the soldiers' drawn faces; on the shore, the sunshine feels cold. The letters (found, in an epilogue, by contemporary archaeologists digging on Iwo Jima) emerge into the light many years after they were buried, letting those soldiers — on both sides — live again.
Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com
"Letters from Iwo Jima," with Ken Watanabe, Kazunari Ninomiya, Tsuyoshi Ihara, Ryo Kase, Shidou Nakamura, Nae. Directed by Clint Eastwood, from a screenplay by Iris Yamashita. 140 minutes. Rated R for graphic war violence. In Japanese with English subtitles. Egyptian.