Tears of the Sun severely tarnished

There's no denying that African genocide, the subject of the new war drama Tears of the Sun, is a topic that gets too little play in today's media in the face of more publicity-friendly evils, and the movie's producers should be commended for releasing this story to the public. However, that the terror of ethnic cleansing must take a second seat to political propaganda and revolting hero-worship is as inappropriate as the movie's themes are tragic.

Tears of the Sun takes place following the violent deposition of the democratic government Nigeria by one of the country's many warring tribes. Though the incident the plot centers around is fictional, it has many historical precedents in Nigeria and many other African countries. While the new leadership practices ethnic cleansing, slaughtering entire villages, including mutilating the women and children, Tears of the Sun chooses to emphasize the god-like bravery of a handful of America soldiers caught in the middle of the conflict, not the plight of the Nigerian people. Though the film aptly and discreetly portrays the multiple atrocities, there's an emotional vacuum during their implementation, while every American death is a Shakespearian tragedy.

A small, American troop of soldiers, led by Lt. A.K. Waters (Bruce Willis), becomes involved in the Nigerian war when they are sent to rescue Lena Kendricks (Monica Bellucci), an American doctor and missionary in a remote village. In proper heroic style, Kendricks refuses to leave without taking the bulk of her people across the border to safety in Cameroon, about 40 miles away. Therein lies the conflict: The United States military refuses to send enough helicopters to airlift fifty-some Nigerian refugees to safety, despite the knowledge that they will be brutally massacred in less than a day if they stay. Waters must decide whether or not to lead his men into mortal peril by disobeying his orders and rescuing the Nigerians, or attempt to carry out his mission by taking only Kendricks.

After leading the villagers through the jungle to the rendezvous site, Waters and his team essentially kidnap Kendricks, forcing her on to the helicopter and abandoning the rest of her people in a clearing. However, when the helicopter flies over her former village, which has been slaughtered by Nigerian troops, Waters feels the pangs of conscience and turns the helicopter around. The reasons for his sudden change of heart are never explained. He was aware of the consequences of his decision before he left the ground, and as a hard-bitten soldier, would have seen enough action not to be queasy at the sight of mass death. But throughout the film, the script persists in flattering of American soldiers at the expense of their characters.

After the American military refuses to send more helicopters into Nigerian territory because of heavy enemy fire, Waters decides to lead the refugees through the jungle on foot to Cameroon. Director Antoine Fuqua excels at maintaining a tense atmosphere throughout the rest of the movie, which mostly follows the long, miserable trek. Though little changes from scene to scene, the full drudgery and exhaustion of the refugees hits home, while their intense terror remains preeminent in the movie's tone.

The company soon discovers that they are being pursued by the bulk of the insurrectionist army, because the son of the former Nigerian president is in their midst. That Kendricks chose not to reveal this critical fact from Waters exposes an unintended conflict in her characterization. Throughout the movie, Kendricks appears to be oblivious to the extent of the group's peril. She insists that Waters transport her people to safety, yet she does everything possible to hamper their progress, demanding rest breaks while the Nigerian army rapidly closes in on their position and concealing information necessary to their survival. Though she claims not to trust Waters, he repeatedly proves his worthiness and his actions undermine any position for her stubborn refusal to cooperate.

The acting is pretty much what's to be expected from a Bruce Willis film: amateurish and emotionless. Willis displays no facial or tonal confirmation of his spontaneous moral rebirth. As always, he is gruff, stoic, and stubbly and feels no need to add anything deeper. Bellucci's dialogue is so repetitious it's difficult to judge her acting, but her performance does not match the vibrancy of the Nigerian refugees, few of which are given the opportunity to shine.

Tears of the Sun reveals itself as a poorly concealed allegory for current American foreign policy. For example, in the beginning Waters is informed that the Americans have been supply the Nigerian rebels for "far too long," justifying their sudden reversal of loyalties. The focus on the Americans, not the Nigerians, is apparent throughout the movie. Most of Waters' men are given distinctive personalities and opinions, while the refugees blend together into one wretched entity. At the beginning, Waters refers to them as the "indigenous personnel," and they never lose this sterile moniker. Furthermore, the ending is one of the most overt deus ex machinas ever to hit the silver screen, ineptly contrived to redeem any American ethical deficiencies revealed throughout the film. Tears of the Sun is a well-conceived movie, but its heart is in the wrong place.