The first shot of Oliver Stone’s Platoon is of a military airplane coming in to land. The first people we see are the clean-shaven young men hopping from that plane. The first face we recognize is that of Charlie Sheen – he looks overwhelmed – but the first people we recognize, the first people whose purpose the audience actually understands, are the ones going on the plane, the ones in the body bags, identified only by the white tags attached to them. One of the new guys asks “oh man, is that what I think it is?” Of course it is. This is an image all of us have seen somewhere. For most, it was probably in another war film, but it certainly, for some reason, feels different this time.
The same can be said for the rest of Platoon – nothing’s new here, but it feels new. Everything that is happening around us is distorted and mysterious, confusing and chaotic. Sounds familiar.
Stone himself, the writer and director, served in Vietnam, and has made an authentic film not focused on a message or a legacy, but simply a memory, his memory. And because of this, there is really no planned plot to guide us through the ‘Nam; instead, like the soldiers, we are confused and at the mercy of unexpected and uncontrollable events.
The movie is narrated by Sheen’s character (who is based on Stone), Chris Taylor. He is an intelligent young man who dropped out of college to enlist because he felt it was his duty as an American. “Can you believe that?” He later asks. He is told early on that “You don’t belong here,” and he couldn’t agree more.
Taylor is no soldier, just as he is no hero. It doesn’t take long for him to feel both physically and mentally exhausted, tormented by the long marches and patrols, the constant fear, the snakes, the ants, the rain, the mud, and the muck. In a scene close to the beginning of the movie, he is on guard duty when he clearly sees some enemies encroaching on his position, and he freezes up. Unknowingly, and perhaps unintentionally, he will become a hardened and satisfactory soldier.
The platoon has (using the term loosely) a leader, but he’s an incompetent leader – no one takes him seriously. This, of course leaves room for insubordination, and soon enough, with no rules, the platoon splits in two. One side is led by Sgt. Barnes (Tom Berenger), a veteran and merciless fighter who has so many scars that the men believe he is incapable of dying, and the other by Sgt. Elias (Willem Dafoe). He is another strong soldier who believes in the war effort, but not in the way it’s carried out. What this squad will lose sight of later on is that they are all on the same team, fighting in the same war, and dying for the same cause.
There is a scene in which the platoon infiltrates a village thought to be harboring enemy troops, and as the suspicion, which we share with the characters, grows stronger, we feel and understand it as it shifts to anger, and then to violence. Many of the men, like Barnes, have ceased feeling guilt, and will kill anyone for any reason if they think it will help keep them alive. But others, like Elias, have managed to preserve some kind of moral structure. A strong sense of danger quickly appears as the troops start disagreeing with each other, and it becomes difficult to point out the enemy. Americans do kill Americans, but Stone has fooled us into accepting, or at least understanding the decisions these men make.
Given the conditions of the environment, there is a surprising lack of unintentional friendly fire. The men are in the heart of some dooming Vietnam jungles, unable to really coordinate or navigate through them. Unlike other war films, there is no clear line to separate the two foes. Soldiers run through the tress yelling and shooting at their own indiscretion. Any movement has a 50-50 chance of being a friend or a foe. There is no way they can know who they are shooting at, and they probably don’t know why either. In this battle, in this war, there is no order.
The Vietnam War has been the basis to some of America’s great films: Apocalypse Now, Full Metal Jacket, and The Deer Hunter, all of which were made before Platoon. But Platoonplays itself off just how Stone meant it to, as an honest testament and tribute.
Sheen’s character towards the film’s conclusion, as he is airlifted away from the battleground, looks down at the carnage below him for the final time. “The war is over for me now,” he announces, “but it will always be there…the rest of my days.”
