Skip to main contentA long time ago, a funny thing happened to the Native American Indians--Europeans began systematically massacring them. But wait, it gets funnier. Then the Europeans, now calling themselves Americans, justified the genocide they perpetrated by vilifying Indians in historical texts, novels and, eventually, films by portraying them as brutal savages.
Now, here's the really funny part: These same Americans would later feel so guilty for the crimes committed against the Indians that the palefaces reimagined the once-scary red-skinned heathens in art and culture. Suddenly, Indians were the endangered species du jour--kind of like dolphins--to be cherished for all the ways they made the lives of white folks more culturally rich. In films such as Dances with Wolves, the American Indian was transformed into the noble savage, to be pitied or protected, always with a matinee-idol white hero to save the day, and thereby atoning for the very real sins of white America's forefathers.
Now comes the latest movie to dance with wolves--director John Woo's Windtalkers. Inspired by the real-life Navajo Codetalkers, whose language was turned into an indecipherable code used to help defeat the Japanese in World War II, Windtalkers is the story of--are you ready for this?--a white Marine assigned to protect a Codetalker. Nicolas Cage stars as Joe Enders, a physically and emotionally scarred Marine. Because of his innate ability to follow orders (which earlier resulted in his whole unit being killed in battle), Joe is give the dubious honor of "protecting the code--at all costs." What that really means is he is to keep Codetalker Ben Yahzee (Adam Beach) from falling into the hands of the Japanese, even if it means killing his fellow Marine.
Somewhere deep within Windtalkers is a great movie about Navajo men, whose culture and families were destroyed by palefaces, helping defend their oppressors. Unfortunately, this story barely makes it on the screen as a subplot to propel the larger, "more interesting" story. It's as if some executive in Hollywood was sitting around going, "These Codetalker guys are kind of cool. Maybe we can work them into a story about a tortured white Marine."
Woo's direction is visually solid; but by now it should be obvious that he could film incontinent polar bears hula-hooping and it would look cool. The problem is the script by John Rice and Joe Batteer, which is devoid of intelligence or originality. Rice and Batteer must be under the impression no one has ever seen a war movie before, because they don't even try to hide the neverending barrage of clichés, which includes the soldier obsessed with his new wife/girlfriend back home. Anyone care to bet whether he lives or not? The script could easily be laughable with a less capable director at the helm. But Woo's direction serves as a reminder that this pathetic script is meant to be taken seriously.
Cage is terrible, giving one of those phoned-in performances that now define his career. Not once do you ever care about Joe or what happens to him--he could step on a landmine for all the sympathy he elicits. Beach, who was so promising in Smoke Signals and Dance Me Outside, seems lost throughout the most of the film. With very little character arc or development, Ben wanders around like a starstruck bumpkin straight off the reservation, moseying right into machine-gun fire just so Cage can grimace, and then leap into action to "protect the code."
Not to spoil the ending or anything, but audiences can rest assured that the United States defeated Japan in World War II. According to Windtalkers, that victory wasn't due to the work of the Navajo Codetalkers, but because of the tough white guys who protected them.
Rated R
Opens Friday, June 14.
WWeek 2015