Miracle at St. Anna
Spike Lee trips up on his ambitions to make a tonic against the “Saving Private Ryans” and “Longest Days,” which failed to acknowledge the contributions of African-Americans during WWII that for much of the film’s exceedingly-long 2 1/2 hours, Lee fails to distinguish himself from the pack. Like his best films (“Do the Right Thing,” “Malcolm X,” “Get On the Bus,” “25th Hour,” “Inside Man,” and the documentaries “4 Little Girls” and “When the Levees Broke”), it’s usually when Lee hits on social concerns of the story that he finds his voice, even though it isn’t until the end that he finds his footing in the era, and the drama packs a punch.
The story comes from the novel by James McBride. Lee’s allowed the author to adapt his own story- probably not the best decision, as McBride’s screenplay seems to dot every “i” and cross every “t” in order to get the full book into the 160 minute running time; I’d be curious to see what Lee could’ve done with the book as a screenwriter, but given his sometimes heavy-handed approach (not just as writer but as director- see “Summer of Sam,” “Girl 6,” “She Hate Me”), that might be riskier territory.
Regardless, Lee’s found a story worth his time to tell, as four soldiers in the 92nd Infantry Division known as the Buffalo Soldiers, a black segregated unit moving on Italy in 1944, get behind enemy lines after being left for dead by their prejudice white officer, and find themselves faced with a culture they aren’t used to, one that doesn’t judge them by the color of their skin, be it fascists or partisans. Along the way, Second Staff Sgt. Stamps (Derek Luke), Sgt. Bishop Cummings (Michael Ealy), Cpl. Hector Negron (Laz Alonso), and PFC Sam Train (Omar Benson Miller, in a gentle and touching performance that’s the heart of the film) pick up an orphaned Italian boy (Matteo Sciabordi, endearing if a bit familiar; the role, not the actor) and are housed by partisans in Tuscany, where Stamps and Bishop vie for the affections of Renata, a young beauty played by Valentina Cervi. Tensions run high as circumstances lead the four to start re-evaluating their importance to their home land, and their discovery of a possible traitor among their hospitable partisan friends, who may have been responsible for the massacre of Italian men, women, and children at the church of St. Anna.
All of this is told between “modern” bookends, set in the 1980s, when a postal worker- who was one of the Buffalo Soldiers- has a customer come up for stamps, and with a German revolver from the Great War, shoots him in cold blood. For the police (a cameo by John Turturro), it’s pretty clear cut, but for a young reporter (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), it’s a chance to earn his stripes on his first assignment. When police discover a stone head from a bridge blown up in Italy, that’s when the worker’s story becomes big news for everyone. In a way, this is similar to the bookend technique used by Spielberg in “Ryan,” except Lee and McBride make it not into some ode to a generation, but the starting point of their story. That doesn’t mean the film couldn’t have benefited with excising this section and sticking to the war story, which more than holds its’ own in comparison.
Well, that last part is how some people look at it at least; I think the film is strong with the bookends. The issue comes with Lee’s approach to the story, which predictably plays up the racism in the army, not that that makes it any less accurate (especially when you see a flashback of the four soldiers on R&R and how their treated by a white Ice Cream shop owner), and is at its’ best when focused in on the characters. Not that Lee fairs poorly with the battle scenes- cinematographer Matthew Libatique and composer Terence Blanchard bring grit and gripping sorrow to the fighting- but his strengths lie with the inner explosions that drive his characters. When he stays true to those concerns, “Miracle at St. Anna” feels like some sort of miracle.
