On May 1, 2003, President Bush announced the official end of the war in Iraq. In September 2003, director Mike Tucker and his co-director and wife Petra Epperlein moved into the bombed-out former “love shack” of Saddam Hussein’s son, Uday Hussein, to document the lives of the soldiers involved in the Iraqi conflict. An unofficial member of the Army’s 2-3 FA Unit, Tucker spent several months living with “the Gunners” in a palace that is referred to repeatedly by the soldiers as “an adult’s paradise.” Gunner Palace tells the story of these young soldiers as they try to survive the second Gulf War.
Right away we see that the war is far from over. It is this ongoing conflict, the fact that battles are still being fought and lives are still being lost, that seems to be the only clear messages this film offers.
The film certainly doesn’t seek to explain why the troops are in Iraq to begin with. In fact, when asked explicitly, the young soldiers, mostly 18 and 19 year-old kids fresh out of high school, admit the reason is lost on them as well. They feel they are no longer fighting to defend their country-they are fighting to survive.
The film does not seem to take sides, either. After watching the trailer, in which soldiers are seen lounging around the pool, dancing on car hoods and screeching out the Star-Spangled Banner on an electric guitar, you would think the aim of the movie was to criticize the war effort and paint an embarrassing portrayal of the insensitive American soldier. They do look and sound ridiculous at times. In one scene their fear of IEDs (improvised explosive devices) is highlighted when they hold up traffic on both sides of the highway for 45 minutes believing that one is hidden in a bag of trash. It is not, and the scene ends with Iraqis laughing at them.
The picture is not entirely unsympathetic: many of the men offer poignant tidbits; others play with children and joke with the elderly. The rapport that Tucker gains with these men and the respect he has for them is obvious.
There is something surreal and forced about the interviews and discussions, though. It’s clear that they knew they were being taped, and that we’d see it. They seem to be performing, and Tucker seems to have encouraged it. From the rap sequences, guitar solos, video game breaks and pool scenes, I often couldn’t help but think I was watching MTV’s Real World. In other scenes, like the dramatic night-time raids, in which elderly men and women in nightgowns-not dangerous terrorists-seem to be the prime targets, I felt like I was watching COPS. The surrealism of it all can be creepy. When in one rap a soldier says, “For y’all it’s just a show, but we live in this movie,” I wanted to remind him that no, he was not, in fact, in Apocalypse Now or Full Metal Jacket.
Where this movie does succeed is in reminding us that there is still a war being fought. Tucker and Epperlein take pains to drive this point home, most dramatically when body bags are loaded into a plane while “Home on the Range” ironically plays in the background. Indeed, the most moving part of the movie is the palpable desire the soldiers have to be remembered. One solider, in nearly each of his appearances, asks America not to forget the soldiers, knowing all too well they will. They all feel it happening, and know that, unless a family member is involved, when CNN is not on, America is not watching.
