Rob Reiner’s A Few Good Men is a film that is entertaining, political, funny and heartbreaking, much like the other works written by Aaron Sorkin. It is undeniably political, with a message that is at times vague and others so clear it’s practically hitting you over the head with the message. It is at its core a simple film, with a protagonist (Tom Cruise) who goes through a journey of personal growth and in turn makes his own mark in the world and comes out from behind his dead father’s shadow and a basic “villain” (Jack Nicholson) who is unwavering, unashamed and unapologetic for the deeds that led to a soldier’s death. There is a compelling cast of secondary characters, the best friend of the protagonist (Kevin Pollak) who is there for the occasional joke and/or reality check, the would-be love interest (Demi Moore) who pushes and is often the idealistic voice of the film and the conflicted villain (J.T. Walsh), who’s loyalties lie with the villain, but who helps out the protagonist due to his pesky conscience. It is this last character, Lt. Col. Markinson, who is the key to the political message of the film. It is through him that the audience finally can understand the larger message that is being conveyed. The character shows the struggle between the loyalties he has to his commanding officer and to the law that is put in direct contradiction to the orders coming from above. Markinson ultimately succumbs to the struggle in a way that is both poetic and terrible; he commits suicide after putting on his complete dress uniform. The nine shots composing the montage directly before his suicide exaggerate the details of the uniform in a way that highlights the uniform and forgets the man. Through the narration, the close-up of the details of the uniform and the diegetic and non-diegetic sound in this scene the larger political struggle of the film is delivered, namely, the internal fight between the honor and code of the military and the laws that can run contradictory to a direct order.
The message of the film is delivered in a way that the two French film critics, Comolli and Narboni would classify as a type “d” film. They define this category as “films… which have explicitly political content but which do not effectively criticize the ideological system in which they are embedded because they unquestioningly adopt its language and imagery” (691). This is clear from the very first scene of the film which features a military base, and reminders of the military are ubiquitous throughout, in fact, the entire trial is in a military courtroom. The film critiques from within, everyone in the film has a rank, and the language of “honor and code” is used constantly and according to imdb.com, the word “sir” was used 164 times in the movie. This is precisely what Comolli and Narboni are discussing when they are critical of a film that uses the “language” of the ideological system it is criticizing. The film is trying to criticize the military to a certain extent, however, the movie ends with the idea that it was just Colonel Jessup who was corrupt, and not the entire military machine, however, Jessup’s reach was wide stretching, and is directly responsible for the death of two men, and the dishonorable discharge of two more, and his own arrest. However, after it all, the protagonist, Lt. Kaffee, is more in tune with the military than before, and is saluted as he leaves the courtroom. While the movie does fit into this category, not all is lost, the message, while dulled a little from the interior critique, still remains strong, and in this case, critiquing from within may have been the strongest way to get the point across.
The specific scene where Markinson is preparing to kill himself is of interested for many reasons, and sound is one of them. There is non-diegetic score playing in the background of the montage, and it is a piece that is particularly haunting, as it was played at the beginning of the film, when the soldier is killed, and during other key moments regarding the soldier’s death and Markinson’s uneasiness with his part in the cover-up. Notably, there is a flashback that deals with the events leading up to the soldier’s death, and there is a moment when Markinson has just been given a dressing-down for disagreeing with his commanding officer and the score is heard in the background as Markinson takes all of this in. So, the repetition of the piece gives a very subtle nod back to the pervious scenes, in order to set a more ominous mood and to indicate to the audience that something important is happening at that moment. The diegetic sound in the scene comes from the thunderstorm that is happening outside the windows, which is mostly noticeable because of the shadows of the rain drops in most of the shots, but also through the beginning and end of the scene. The first shot of the scene opens with a flash of lightning and a thunderclap and the last shot ends the same way, the thunderclap serving both as the sound from the gun that Markinson kills himself with and as a sound bridge to the next scene. Thunderstorms are often used as the external indicators of an internal struggle, a practice seen in everything from Shakespeare’s King Lear to Disney’s The Princess Diaries. This case is no different. The scene would have been dramatically different had Markinson committed suicide in bright sunlight; that would have indicated a much more positive feeling towards the suicide and the sense of a struggle wouldn’t be there. These two sounds, one diegetic, one non-diegetic, add to the drama of the scene, but they also help to convey the struggle that Markinson is going through, the same struggle that is played out in the larger context of the film.
The narration over the scene is a letter that Markinson wrote to the parents of the dead Marine. This letter is important because it gives a certain amount of insight into Markinson’s mindset and the reasoning behind why he kills himself. The transcript of the letter is this:
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Santiago, I was William’s executive officer. I knew your son vaguely, which is to say, I knew his name. In a matter of time, the trial of the two men charged with your son’s death will be concluded and seven men and two women whom you’ve never met will try to offer you an explanation as to why William is dead. For my part, I’ve done as much as I can to bring the truth to light. And the truth is this, your son is dead for only one reason: I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. Always, Lt. Colonel Matthew Andrew Markinson, United States Marine Corp.”
The letter shows Markinson’s feeling as to his own guilt, and his own weakness in life and it is the combination that drove him to commit suicide. Markinson’s weakness comes from his duty to the Marines, to his commanding officer and the morals he holds that run in direct contradiction to the orders he had been given at that particular juncture. This is made clear through the flashback we are shown earlier in the film, when he is basically told to “sit down and shut up” about it. As he says in the letter, he tries to make amends for what he failed to do by giving the prosecution the information they need to unearth the truth. He kills himself before he can testify, however, so as not to publicly denounce his superior and go against the orders he was given, the uniform has the upper-hand in his mind and he is unable to forget about it and go against it.
The main focus of the scene is the uniform, which is highlighted by close-ups of different parts of the uniform. In fact, if it weren’t for the voice-over the audience wouldn’t know who was dressing in the uniform, as we don’t see his face until shot 9. This is an example of metonymy, which, according to Hayward, “can be applied to an object that is visibly present by which represents another object or subject to which it is related but which is absent” (250). In this case, the uniform is standing in for the whole of the military, a specific type of metonymy called synecdoche- “the use of a part standing in for the whole” (250). The close-ups exaggerate this by putting emphasis on the parts of the uniform, the parts of the uniform stand in for the whole uniform, and the uniform stands in for the whole of the military. According to Balasz, close-ups “can show us a quality in a gesture of the hand we never noticed before when we saw that hand stroke or strike something, a quality which is often more expressive than any play of features” (274). This quote is particularly apt, as the only parts of Markinson that we see in the first eight shots are of his hands, and when we do see his face, it is mostly emotionless. The close-ups give the audience a closer look at the details of the uniform, the pieces that form the whole that asks the wearer to become part of the uniform and remove their own personal feelings and opinions in order to better serve the whole. The very idea of “uniform” indicating same-ness, not individual indicates what is being asked of the people who wear them, put this on and remove your own personality and morals and replace them with what is best for the group and what your superiors order you to do. The irony is, Markinson’s superior, Jessup, was ignoring a direct order from his own superiors when he ordered the action that ended in the death of a Marine. Markinson ultimately isn’t strong enough to ignore orders and so he does the one thing he knows will stop the uniform from completely taking him over. In effect, when he puts on his uniform and then kills himself, he is killing the uniform and ending his pain, he sees no other way out. As if this weren’t enough to just show this in the film, Kaffee emphasizes it in a later scene by saying, “Markinson’s dead… [he] got into full dress uniform, stood in the middle of that room, drew a nickel-plated pistol from his holster and fired a bullet into his mouth.” The emphasis on his “full dress uniform” is important, as it is just a ceremonial uniform that isn’t used for anything but formal occasions. It is in essence, an empty uniform, full of pomp and circumstance, but lacking of any real meaning.
What intrigues me specifically about the scene are the items that the director choose to highlight. Shot two shows the buttons of the coat, shot three is his belt, shot four is his shoes, shots five and six are the sword, shot seven is his glove, and shot eight is his hat. These aren’t the big pieces of the uniform: shirt, jacket, pants, which we see laid out on the bed in shot one. The traditional pieces of clothing aren’t important here, they are shown in one long, medium, pan down of the bed. What is important are the things that are shown in close-up, the pieces that distinguish the uniform from mere clothing. Balasz says that close-ups are, “often dramatic revelations of what is really happening under the surface of appearances” (274). These pieces that are ornamental for the uniform, namely the sword and the gloves, are not just showing what is under the surface of appearance, they are creating the surface of the appearance. The pieces that make the uniform different from ordinary clothing are also the same things that are subjugating the personality of the wearer and creating the appearance. However, when we see them being put on, we are aware of the appearance they are projecting, so we are no longer taken in by the appearance, and are then able to see what is happening on the basic level underneath it. This is clear in shot nine, as we see Markinson’s face for the first time in a full-body shot of him looking in the mirror, completely dressed. The pieces no longer stand out, they have blended in to form the appearance of the uniform and the person in it no longer has any distinguishing factors that make him different from anyone else in uniform. That is how it comes across: it isn’t Markinson standing there, it is a man in uniform, it could be anyone.
The scene is a brilliant compilation that creates both the feeling of the uniform, through the visuals, and the feeling of the man, through the sound. The blending of the two creates the dichotomy that has previously been only hinted at through words in the film, the disjunction between the man and the uniform that can occur when a corrupt person takes advantage of their situation in life. That is the message of the film, not that the military is corrupt, however much Comolli and Narboni wish that was the case, but that one man can ruin so many lives with a few simple orders and the system of the military makes it pretty impossible to disobey. The critique the scene is making is on the uniformity of the system, through the literal uniform that Markinson puts on and then tries to kill. He cannot extract himself from the uniform and he doesn’t want to let himself get lost in it anymore, so he does the one thing he can do, and the scene highlights his frame of mind and the internal battle he has been waging.
Balasz, Bela. “The Close-up.” Braudy 273-275.
Braudy, Leo and Marshall Cohen, ed. Film Theory and Criticism. 7th ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009.
Comolli, Jean-Luc and Jean Narboni. “Cinema/Ideology/Criticism.” Braudy 686-693.
Hayward, Susan. Cinema Studies: The Key Concepts 3rd ed. “Metonymy/metaphor.” New York: Routledge, 2006.
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