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"I Realized We Were Watching Totally Different Movies" on Platoon

By Barry Romo

By Barry Romo
VVAW National Office

Six friends and myself went to see "Platoon." Three Vietnam vets and one Grenada vet sat nervously as the speakers blared out old Beatles' songs and we waited for the lights to dim.

Behind us sat a gaggle of punks—not the kind with blue hair, but the suburban clan-cut Rambo variety. They were loud and offensive. That didn't bother us; as combat vets were known to be loud and offensive on occasions. The content of their discussion was repulsive, however.

"Let's sit behind some gooks—we can kick their chairs and scare them during the move!" Laugher and chuckles. "Look at all the Vietnam vets in here; they stick together, don't they?" "Yeh, man, I don't know if we should sit here." Yeh, they are just like niggers, only the smell worse."

Before someone could declare their heads a free-fire zone, one of the vets said, "Shut your fucking mouths—NOW!" They did, except for one whose last whispered statement was, "I told you not to sit behind them; now we won't have any fun."

The movie was powerful. The only thing missing was the smell of shit burning. Memories missed with adrenaline as every vet remembered scenes out of his past connected with images on the screen. At points I was exhausted as much from memories as from the movie.

At the end no one said anything. We waited for awhile trying to compose ourselves. The kids left immediately. You could tell the vets, hands thrust deep in their pockets, silent, alone with friends next to them.

We drove to dinner and only spoke sparingly of the movie. We ate dinner and talked about other movies. We went back to my house to watch cable. Only tow hours later did we being to discuss "Platoon," and it wasn't until we did a piece for NBC 5 days later that we discussed it fully, and then it was for the camera and the commentator as well as for ourselves.

I spoke to other VVAW chapters about the movie; they liked it as well. In one city a vet broke down crying; another had seen it 6 times in 2 days.

I'm going back to see it. I think it is a great and powerful film on war, my war, but I'm not going to review that here. The Academy nominated it for awards; columnist after columnist has rightfully praised it.

What bothers me is those suburbanites behind us at the theatre. They weren't evil; they had obviously seen the movie before and thought enough of it to see it again. But what was painful for me is that it was fun for them; I realized we were sitting in the same theatre watching two totally different movies.

One movie on that dirty, worthless "little" war was not match for the Rambos, Chuck Norris and POW flicks. The reality of this movie was mixed with the nonsense of the others; they stole its message. Not that anyone would want the reality of "Platoon," but these youth could pick which reality they wanted—Rambo won.

I don't believe that we've lost. Our experience in talking to high schools proves that we can offer truth and break through layers of bullshit. Simply put, one movie is not going to turn the situation around no matter how good it is.

A real test of the authority of "Platoon" is the squeals of foul from rightwing vets. They complain of scenes depicting fraggings, brutality towards civilians, destruction of villages, and dope smoking. The right shows they either were not in combat or have become the "40-year-old-men" we hated for reliving their youth in our blood. Hopefully they will return to official military status, which will prove the film right on.

I don't know if I can take too many more war films. Either they are too real and fill me with memories and pain, or they are nonsensical and get me mad, angry, and steal my sleep.

There is a mini-series I would like to see on TV. Maybe ABC would run a series about a large country from across the sea with helicopters, tanks, and soldiers. They could set up a puppet government, maybe try to divide the country up into a couple of countries, indiscriminately kill farmers, break up families and destroy the local culture. Instead of calling it "Amerika," we can call it "Vietnam." Yes, and I'll probably win the lottery this week, too.

Oh yes—the best to Ollie Stone for one of the best 'Nam flicks yet.