In the mid-to-late '80s, America finally came to terms with the Vietnam War, exorcising their demons via popular culture. On TV, we had Vietnam veterans The A-Team coming to the rescue of the needy. On the radio, Paul Hardcastle told us that the average age was 'n-n-n-n-nineteen', while Stan Ridgeway recounted the story of an awfully big marine. In the cinemas, Chuck Norris was Missing In Action, Rambo asked 'Do we get to win this time?', Tom Cruise was Born on the Fourth of July, Robin Williams was screeching 'Good Morning', Michael J. Fox suffered the Casualties of War, and Kubrick's jacket was of the full metal variety. Oliver Stone's Vietnam film Platoon even cleaned up at the Oscars, winning four awards, including Best Picture.
It's understandable that Hamburger Hill, with its cast of relative unknowns and second-tier director, didn't receive quite as much attention as the aforementioned heavy-hitters, but if you're serious about war movies, don't let the lack of any big names put you off: the film is just as worthy of praise as Platoon, if not more-so, the green cast only adding to the film's already palpable authenticity. Shot in the thick jungles and even thicker mud of the Phillipines, the film tells of one of the most costly battles of the Vietnam War, the fight for Hill 937 in the Ashau Valley, known to grunts as Hamburger Hill. Director John Irvin's aim is to capture the horrors of war in all their bloody detail, and the sense of realism he achieves is remarkable: when his characters die, they don't throw their arms up in slow motion to the strains of Adagio for Strings
they do so in a sudden welter of gore, hammering home the notion that war is hell.
By the end of Hamburger Hill, the viewer is left as emotionally drained as its surviving characters are physically exhausted.
