Zero Dark Thirty


Zero Dark Thirty



In this large diverse country, it is hard to find something that we all agree on.

The one time I can remember all Americans coming together in united support of something was May 1, 2011 – the day Osama Bin Laden was killed.

I remember when the ESPN Sunday Night Baseball announcers interrupted the Phillies/Mets game I was watching to inform viewers of what had happened.

When they announced the news on the Jumbotron scoreboard, The Citizens Bank Park crowd erupted in applause. The last thing I expected to hear that night was the sound of Philadelphia fans and New York fans cheering together for the same thing. Osama Bin Laden’s death made it happen.

And I cheered, too. Despite the fact that I am a pacifist. Despite the fact that I was against the invasion of Afghanistan and still am.

I am a peacenik. But I know that this world is a better place now that Osama Bin Laden is no longer a part of it. And I am proud that the United States government tracked him down and killed him.

However, I don’t particularly care how they did it.

I plan on eating a breakfast sandwich this morning. I am fully aware that the creation of that sandwich involved the death of a living being. I am aware that they had to crack a few eggs. I don’t need to – and don’t want to – watch an entire movie about the making of that sandwich.

That is what “Zero Dark Thirty” felt like: a 2 1/2 hour movie about the making of a Sausage McMuffin with Egg.

“Zero Dark Thirty” is over-long and over-rated. It follows nine tedious years in the life of a tireless CIA agent – Maya (Jessica Chastain) – as she interrogates a bunch of prisoners in Pakistan and follows a bunch of leads.

Kathryn Bigelow is the only female filmmaker who directs mainstream dramas. But her movies are conspicuously lacking in anything resembling girl stuff.

For example, Maya is the only redhead within a two thousand mile radius and we are expected to believe that she went an entire decade without anyone asking her out. I’m not buying it.

What “Zero Dark Thirty” desperately needed was an ounce of humanity. We know nothing of Maya’s personal life. Or her sense of humor. Or her family. Does she have a family?

To the real people who risked their lives to kill Osama Bin Laden, I say thank you! We are better off now that he is dead. I wish he had never existed. I kind of feel the same way about this movie.