Misión mortal

To state that this movie is a "difficult watch" is, clearly, a statement of the bleedin' obvious. Yet there is little of the footage here that is not wearily familiar, that has not been streamed to our TV screens, night after night as news coverage, from, predominantly Syria - but also, over time, from Sudan, Afghanistan, Bosnia, Somalia - even Vietnam (if you're old enough). The appalling human suffering that characterises all wars is here, just the same, writ large.

The difference here is the intimate concentration required of a cinema screening, and the almost hypnotic involvement engendered by the extraordinary risk undertaken - willingly it seemed - by the characters themselves - notably Marie Colvin and Paul Conroy. And we feel that risk with that same intimacy, because what we see here - through their eyes and ears almost - is of the moment, visceral and raw, filmed by, or of the protagonists under the most extreme duress.

I was privileged to watch the film in Paul Conroy's home town - played to a packed house - and with the added frisson of knowing that he was present for a Q and A immediately afterwards. The way that the audience felt the threat, reacted to the horror and recoiled at the explosions, almost to a man or woman, was remarkable and undeniable. We all fidgeted with obvious discomfort. There were audible exclamations of horror and disbelief at times. Many left the auditorium - but almost all returned. In literary terms, this film is un-put-downable. You might wish you hadn't seen it, but you must see it.

I went to see this stunning - devastating and vital film at FACT in Liverpool recently - Both Paul Conroy and the director Chris Martin were also there for a Q&A - The emotional and genuine standing ovation they recieved told you everything about the film experience we had just shared -If the truth is important to you do not miss this film.

This documentary drama brings the story of the people slaughtered in Homs home to the hearts of those sitting comfortably in arm chairs. "Names not numbers" - these words of Marie Colvin are upheld and conveyed with integrity in Under the Wire - a fitting testimony to a heroine who paid the ultimate sacrifice. Her colleague and friend Paul Conroy tells her and their story in the horror of Homs. Through this story being told, the viewer becomes witness.

I've just seen this at the Aldeburgh documentary festival, followed by a Q&A with Paul Conroy, Lindsey Hilsum & Tom Brisley. A gripping documentary which charts the great Marie Colvin's last assignment. Most of us have no idea how impossibly difficult it was to get into non-state held Syria in 2012. This will show you. And it illustrates the importance of top quality journalism in any war or conflict. Paul Conroy says his assignment continues: to bring to the public consciousness of the world the slaughter of Syrians in 2012, and in making this film, he honours the memory of Marie Colvin, the oppressed Syrian people, and all journalists who have died in conflicts. Don't forget also all the other countless people who film the cameramen - this film is a great achievement, piecing together footage from all sorts of other cameramen. It couldn't be more topical. Add to this the extraordinary bravery of journalists, they might sometimes be foolhardy, but when things go wrong, there is no doubt that they risk everything to keep bringing out news as a matter of journalistic integrity.

Greetings again from the darkness. With release dates so close together, this documentary from director Christopher Martin makes a superb companion piece to director Matthew Heineman's film, A PRIVATE WAR - the Marie Colvin biopic with an excellent performance by Rosamund Pike. Heineman's film really helps us understand what drove Ms. Colvin to become the most courageous and well-known war correspondent of her time, while Martin's doc provides an incredibly up-close look at the dangerous environment that inspired her reports.

In February 2012, Ms. Colvin and photographer Paul Conroy were smuggled into Syria (journalists were prohibited at the time) and found their way to Baba Amr, an area of Homs, Syria. What they discovered was horrific. What the Assad regime was doing to its own people, its own children, was not what Marie and Paul had known as war. Instead they described it as slaughter. They were determined that "the world must see", and for the next few days, they discovered "The Widows Basement" where women and children were trapped. They watched a relentless Dr. Mohamed desperately try to stitch the injured back together in a makeshift clinic with minimal supplies.

The film is based on the book of the same title by Paul Conroy. On the day the bombing killed Marie and French photographer Remi Ochlik, and many other civilians, it was Paul and French correspondent Edith Bouvier who survived, despite serious injuries. Mr. Conroy acts as our commentator as much of the footage he shots plays on screen. He admits to carrying the weight and responsibility of telling not just Marie's story, but also the truth about what they witnessed ... it's a brutal war that continues today.

Some reenactments are blended with Conroy's footage, and we fully understand the terror they felt in entering the drain pipe that acted as the artery to Baba Amr. The infamous clip of the dying baby shown on Anderson Cooper's CNN interview with Ms. Colvin is no less devastating now. Paul admits that some described Marie as "scarier than the war we are covering", but no one doubted her courage and drive to tell the stories of those who were being forgotten. As the Sunday Times war correspondent recognizable by her eye patch, Marie's work with Paul is the best defense possible for our need for truthful and full journalistic coverage ... it should be our protection against forces motivated to mislead or misdirect. Paul's commentary of his extraction from Syria reinforces what courage is required not just to rush to the story, but also to find a way to tell it.