Features > Movie Reviews > The Messenger…

One man does the talking. The other is there to formalize the proceedings, to bear witness, and to beat the retreat in case things get sticky.

‘Never say stuff like “lost” or “expired” or “passed away”; things that people misunderstand,’ Captain Stone instructs his latest charge, Staff Sergeant Montgomery. ‘We need to be clear: need to say “killed” or “died”. What we don’t say is “the deceased” or “the body”. We call each casualty by name. We honour them.”

Montgomery (Ben Foster), a wounded combat vet, isn’t sure this is what he joined the army for. Stone (Woody Harrelson) has been doing the job so long he doesn’t know what else he could do.

They go about their work, the young man learning the ropes, numbly withstanding the affront and pain that comes afresh with each and every mission. There is the widow who collapses in grief… A father’s rage… There is no good or easy way to give or to receive this news.

Then they meet Olivia Pitterson (Samantha Morton), a wife and mum who takes it in with such calm and consideration, she thanks the officers for their trouble. Her equanimity haunts Montgomery; something about this woman makes him want to know more.

This strange attraction – in which compassion strays into passion – takes the film on to a different plane, and it’s so beautifully, perceptively played by Foster and Morton, it pulls us into the contradictory and complex emotions they’re feeling. Morton, in particular, is such a fearless, unfailingly honest actress, she’s like a jolt of pure reality whenever she’s on screen. A lot of that has do with what she withholds, what she keeps inside her that we intuit through the most subtle effects.

That’s not meant to disparage the Last Detail style movie that’s playing out between the two men at the same time – Harrelson performs with rare force and energy - but the seeds of hope that blossom in Foster’s character through his relationship with this widow give the movie its power.

Director and co-writer Oren Moverman is known for his screenplays for the Bob Dylan film I’m Not There, Jesus’ Son and Ira Sachs’ romantic thriller Married Life (prior to that, he also served four years in the Israeli military). His directing choices are unflashy, simple, but effective, always at the service of the actors and the emotional story. It’s not always an easy film to watch, the subject matter is too anguished for that, but because of its authenticity and skill, it’s an enriching, satisfying experience.