Covering
similar matters as Taxi to the Dark Side, Errol Morris
tackles the issues of ethics in war in his competent legalistic
manner, convincing some of the leading figures in the Abu Ghraib
Prison scandal to talk on camera in Standard Operating Procedure.
You’ll recognise most of them from the infamous photos that
brought the appalling situation in the prison to the public attention;
particularly Lynndie England for her part in the photo where she
points at naked prisoners.
This remarkable documentary begs the question: under
the pressures of wartime is it permissible to make the excuse
of obeying orders when subjecting helpless prisoners to humiliation
and torture? This is of course the very excuse the Nazis used
for their crimes against humanity. The intelligence agencies argue
that torture is necessary to gain information to save lives in
the long term. It is noted that while much of the inhumane treatment
in Abu Ghraib Prison was to gain information on the whereabouts
of Saddam Hussein, in fact he was found by soldiers in the field.
None of the confessions under torture were useful, as victims
say whatever is expected of them under extreme duress.
It also questions how the young naive solders involved
became debased and inhumane in this fearful prison. Indeed some
still think they have nothing to be ashamed about. A further sobering
fact is that nobody over the rank of Staff Sergeant served any
jail time. The film makes you look outside the borders of the
photographs, as the military personnel who were involved give
their versions of what took place. Errol Morris has the skill
not to interrupt the interviewee, and keep quiet after the subject
answers the question. Sometimes they just keep talking to fill
the gap, often revealing more than expected.
Despite
already being gripping in its subject matter, the director decides
to give it an extra whammy using an exciting visual style to add
to the impact, along with dramatic music by Danny Elfman (who
incidentally does music for The Simpsons and Desperate
Housewives). Even though much of the footage is talking heads,
it is done in hard-edged close-up shots, with subjects unnervingly
looking straight at the camera. The lighting brings out every
crease in their skin, and every twitch of expression. You get
to know them intimately. There are many photos taken at the prison,
of which some are already infamous, plus actual video footage,
and convincing if brief re-enactments, often in close-up compositions.
It’s good cinema technique, apart from being a thought-provoking
(at times horrific) documentary.
We’re told that 30,000 people were murdered
at the very prison under Hussein, making it an evil place to begin
with. But since the war, American patrols are regularly out at
night picking up suspects (many of them innocent) and herding
them into cattle trucks to be bought to the prison, often with
children. Another whiff of the Nazi methods.
Errol Morris made a name for himself with the investigative
documentary The Thin Blue Line, where there was doubt
concerning which offender actually shot a policeman when their
stolen car was pulled over. It led to the case being reviewed
and the innocent man spared a lethal injection. Morris again gives
us a serious question to mull over. Perhaps the most concerning
moment is when what is considered torture as opposed to standard
operating procedure are compared in the photos. This gives you
real grounds for concern. It’s compelling viewing.
Covering
similar matters as Taxi to the Dark Side, Errol Morris
tackles the issues of ethics in war in his competent legalistic
manner, convincing some of the leading figures in the Abu Ghraib
Prison scandal to talk on camera in Standard Operating Procedure.
You’ll recognise most of them from the infamous photos that
brought the appalling situation in the prison to the public attention;
particularly Lynndie England for her part in the photo where she
points at naked prisoners. 
Despite
already being gripping in its subject matter, the director decides
to give it an extra whammy using an exciting visual style to add
to the impact, along with dramatic music by Danny Elfman (who
incidentally does music for The Simpsons and Desperate
Housewives). Even though much of the footage is talking heads,
it is done in hard-edged close-up shots, with subjects unnervingly
looking straight at the camera. The lighting brings out every
crease in their skin, and every twitch of expression. You get
to know them intimately. There are many photos taken at the prison,
of which some are already infamous, plus actual video footage,
and convincing if brief re-enactments, often in close-up compositions.
It’s good cinema technique, apart from being a thought-provoking
(at times horrific) documentary.