Bourge-wise Cat

Linklater Rarely Does Lackluster (Movie
Review) by Alison Ross
Richard Linklater's movies are first and foremost in-depth character studies. Each
of his flicks - from his foray into film, Slacker, through his lesser-known narratives like
Tape or more celebrated film fare like the Before series and Boyhood, to his latter-day
cinematic features like Everybody Wants Some and Last Flag Flying - all flaunt fleshedout
characterization as the driving force. A film with narrowly-drawn characters does not
exist in the Linklater movie-verse. Too, the characters in the Linklater cosmos are usually
fraught with maddening ambiguities in the director's divine quest to achieve as much
verisimilitude as possible. Linklater revels in tracing the soaring highs and plumbing the
dark depths of his film personae as a way, perhaps, to explore his own polarized persona,
and as a way to comment on the ubiquitous dichotomy of human nature.
What sets Last Flag Flying apart, perhaps, is how the characters go on a literal trip
to self-actualization as opposed to the metaphorical ones in most of his other movies.
Sure, there is traveling in the Before series movies, but it exists almost as a backdrop to
the showcased story, whereas in Last Flag Flying, the excursion is the point, the raison
d'etre, of the narrative. The trio of protagonists, just as they were transformed by trauma
in their shared Vietnam experience, are once again metamorphosed during their joint
journey up the east coast to bury one of the men's soldier sons who died in Iraq.
Each character is a study of archetypes whose complexities run deep: Carrell's
character, a shy solemn wallflower with bursts of soulful vigor; Cranston's paragon of
frat-boy bravado whose rebel streak betrays a golden heart, and Laurence's preacher,
a former ne'er do well who over-corrected his wayward past by becoming a holy man.
Add to that endearing mix of men a heavy dose of anti-war sentiment that nonetheless
refuses to disrespect the actual men forced into battle, and you have a concoction of pure
conviction. Linklater rarely does lackluster, after all.