Last Flag Flying (2017)

Last Flag Flying review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Richard Linklater’s Last Flag Flying paints perhaps the most unique portrait of aged veterans, taking care never to dwell too heavy on politics, tragedy, humor, or patriotism. I doubt most are so simple. Even if they are, Linklater’s film, based on a novel by Darryl Ponicsan, presents them as men more complicated in the twilight of a world they still don’t understand. They’ve been to Vietnam and now watch as the Iraq War brings a familiar, bitter taste. Some things never change. For the three men that reconnect after the war, they secretly wish there was a change.

Taking place in the early 2000s, Doc (Steve Carell) seeks out his old war buddies for an unorthodox task. He wants their help in bringing his son home from war, returning in a coffin, to be buried in his hometown. For his cackling alcoholic buddy Sal (Bryan Cranston), it’s a trip worth taking for little more than reconnecting with his old friend. For the soldier-turned-devout-preacher Richard (Laurence Fishburne), it’s a task that may be too much for his older bones. And yet they all come together when they realize how deeply personal and troubling it is for Doc to brave this trail, especially when it requires a little intimidation to be thrown around with a military they don’t favor much in their later years.

In true Linklater fashion, the audience gets to spend a lot of time with these characters so they’re never one-note or cliche. Doc is a swirling mass of raw emotions; crestfallen with his son’s demise, bitter with his government, and gentle with his friends. Steve Carell is usually an accomplished actor when it comes to quieter roles, but he runs a remarkable gambit of tones with this character, easily going from meekly talking about his lesser days to laughing about the brighter ones. Cranston shines with that familiar grizzle of a guy who seems have a joke for as many beers as he can guzzle, but deserves to be taken down a peg when his gags go south in darker territory. Fishburne embodies a dual personality of being a dignified man of god, but still has some of the short fuse left to explode in slander when he is being played. I thought he would spend the whole film reprising his Morpheus role from The Matrix of speaking in quotes but warms up quickly to the adventure when the task grows trickier.

While the plot of bringing Doc’s boy home for a funeral is a solid enough story, it’s ultimately the smaller scenes that stand out. It was hilarious watching Cranston try to relate Fishburne with his limited views on race, only to be fooled into thinking Eminem was a black rapper. Carell’s small talk with Cranston at the bar in the opening scene is the perfect way to ease the audience into their lives that are taken one day, memory, and drink at a time. Even something as simple as the trio bickering over the purchase of simple cell phones is a whole movie in itself. And there’s no shame in admitting that I laughed as hard as the characters when they joke in the train about their aged genitals. Linklater spends enough breathing room in his script to make the dick jokes feel as earned as they are funny.

Whether or not Linklater perfectly peers into the mind of the old soldier is up for debate, but the characters he creates feel as real as any of Linklater’s other productions. It’s a film that never feels afraid to pull a joke most foul, a rant too political, or a somber touch of a shunned darkness. There are dozens upon dozens of films that pay tribute to servicemen in one light or another. Last Flag Flying presents the most human and three-dimensional approach to men who have witnessed the worst terror on the planet and tried to build a life after. There’s no thank you or salute that can do these men justice. A beer probably wouldn’t hurt though.