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This review first appeared in The Colorado Springs Gazette. To read this review at its original source, click here.

The Messenger is the movie Brothers wanted to be, a homefront war drama that simultaneously shows the cost of war as well as the inherent strength of those fighting it. A tender and moving story about the first, flailing steps toward normalcy after gazing into the maw of doom, The Messenger features tour-de-force performances that vacillate between solemnity and humor without once losing sight of the compassion and dignity of the subject matter.

Ben Foster is Will Montgomery, a U.S. Army Staff Sergeant just back from the battlefields of Iraq and not entirely in one piece. Will’s face is pockmarked by shrapnel scars and his eyes, permanently heat-blasted by an IED explosion, require fastidious self-moisturizing. The sunglasses he has to wear at all times allow him the blessed ability to hide in plain sight. Mere months from getting out of the service, Will is assigned to the Army’s Casualty Notification Service and partnered with Capt. Tony Stone (Woody Harrelson). Their job just may be more horrific than combat itself — bearing the bad news of fallen soldiers to their families. It is the last job in the Army that Will wants and Capt. Stone is the last man he wants to do it with. Will would rather skulk along, slowly and violently coming apart at the mental seams. But Will finds his emotional detachment dissolving when he meets Olivia (Samantha Morton), a new widow to whom he just delivered the news of her husband’s death.

I can think of very few jobs worse than what Casualty Notification Servicemen do every day. “This job is not merely important, it is sacred,” Will’s commanding officer tells him. And he’s absolutely right. We understand the men’s strict rules exist to keep both them and those with whom they interact separate. We also understand the myriad reactions they get upon conveying their dreaded news, from disbelief to hostile rage. But whereas one man sees the people who meet him at the door as an assignment, the other sees them as obliviously traumatized victims. Capt. Stone addresses his duty with a brusque professionalism that leaves no room for sympathy. Will, an acknowledged Humpty Dumpy himself, cannot help but empathize with those whose lives he’s about to forever change. While they dislike each other at first, the men come to begrudgingly accept one another and eventually form a bond neither saw coming.

It’s hard to believe that an actor of Ben Foster’s caliber is just now getting a leading role. Foster, who has wowed audiences in such films as 3:10 to Yuma, here plays a man so paranoid, brutish and exhausted by life that he no longer even pretends at civility. He is a human portrait of grief. Foster is not alone, however, in deserving praise. Harrelson, who has had a great year, is also good as Foster’s superior officer, a man whose rank but certainly not experience makes him the leader. A scene in which Foster shares his experiences in Iraq with a soon-to-be blubbering Harrelson is worth the ticket price alone. Morton, who has always had a unique ability to deliver raw, palpable grief-stained performances, continues to do so here.

The Messenger takes its time to let grief progress organically. Some may see Will and Olivia’s friendship as a crossed line and doubtless they are right. But grief makes us do bizarre things. The couple is, at least, sincere. They are both open, festering wounds and using each other as band-aids. But just when you think the story is becoming an exercise in frustrating predictability, the film veers in the opposite direction.

The Messenger may be one of the most powerful anti-war films of recent years, an all the more impressive feat because it never once takes sides or draws a political breath. The film never has to preach, it simply has to show the cost of war, the cinematic equivalent of photographs of flag-draped coffins.

© Copyright 2009 Brandon Fibbs. All rights reserved.