A group of working-class friends decides to enlist in the Army during the Vietnam War and finds it to be hellish chaos -- not the noble venture they imagined. Before they left, Steven married his p...
The Deer Hunter is one of those films which touches every aspect of life. It displays both comradery and brutality in equal amounts, telling it's audience of the balance between life and death in our world.
Much like Full Metal Jacket, The Deer Hunter has two definitive sections, or at least, two definitive worlds: One of nobility and one of brutality. In the former, we see a group of friends in a small industrial town in Pennslyvania. Their closeness is bursting with playful boisterousness, unifying youthfulness and endless love. On Steven's (John Savage) wedding day, we feel right at home with the party. We are presented with a tightly knit group and community where it seems as if nothing can ever go wrong.
Yet, through long takes and sharp editing, as well as a contribution from the town's grimy aesthetic, we get the sense that something is brooding. With Mike, Nick and Steven all signed for Vietnam, the audience watches in dread as we know that this bliss cannot last. A scene in the bar where all the guys listen to the piano tells us this; that nothing will ever be the same.
With a hard jumpcut to war, we are instantly shown mass homicide, piled bodies and mothers gunned down while holding their child. This is where Russian Roulette comes into play. The game becomes a symbol of the war itself. The game clearly states the pointlessness of battle. Unlike the hunting we see Mike enjoy, there is no predator or prey in war. There is simply a dice, a gamble. Russian Roulette becomes normalized as the guys get surrounded by more and more death. Why prolong the inevitable?
The Russian Roulette scenes are some of the tensest scenes in cinema. De Niro displays a perfect balance between unhinged, calm and desperation while Walken is a gaunt skeletal figure, a husk of the happy man he was back home.
The disease of war spreads. Even when Mike returns home, nothing is quite the same. Even his passion for hunting, something which is clearly of a sabbatical nature to him, is no more. he scars have cut too deep, leading to an ending that is cold, nostalgic and handles itself with a melancholy grace.
The Deer Hunter feels like looking at a dusty old photograph of friends. Yes, the film is about war but it is also about youth, about growing older, about change. As Mike puts it 'I feel a lot of distance. I feel far away' despite being at home. In the end, there is no more partying, there are no more laughs. There is just a cruel irony. As they sing of America's success, our friends smile at each other, knowing deep down they can never go back to how their lives once were.
Post-script: I must confess. this only briefly crossed my mind as I watched the film. Now, after looking into other reviews, I see this as a clearer issue. The film's balance of perspectives is off-kilter. While the plight our heroes have to go through is awful, it does villainize the Vietnamese. The film fails to provide an alternative viewpoint that empathizes with the other side. With the context behind the Vietnam war, it is a grave misstep to ignore America's part in the war. I don't think the film is intentionally racist. However, Cimino fails to acknowledge the other side of the war, thus providing motivation to vilify a group that is equally in danger. With the film's long run time, Cimino could easily have attended to this issue. It is still an enjoyable film but it does unintentionally create a villain which should be equal.
