13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

It has become customary, almost patriotic, for a biopic chronicling the brave exploits of American soldiers to come out in January. 2013’s “Zero Dark Thirty”, 2014’s “Lone Survivor”, and 2015’s “American Sniper” pave the way for “13 Hours” this year. The interesting thing about the aforementioned is that they all drew critical acclaim, were released in limited availability in December, and even ultimately received Oscar nominations for their excellence. All of the aforementioned except “13 Hours”. Unfortunately, Michael Bay has created something of a reputation in his filmmaking, and it’s no knock on him, but he’s perhaps better suited for high-octane, machismo fiction. Camera flares, epic pyrotechnics, and absurdly staged slow-motion dramatic shots of actors’ faces. Bless their hearts, they are trying so hard, but Michael Bay makes it difficult to take a film seriously, no matter how admirable the material or how heroic the characters. His inability to believably capture the human emotion is only amplified by his desire to prove naysayers wrong.

Based on the Benghazi, Libya attack on the US Consulate on September 11, 2012, the film follows six men; CIA ex-special forces contract security operators, as they respond to the incident that killed Ambassador Chris Stevens.

Make sure you wear your reading glasses, because the introduction gives what amounts to more background information than you would need if the script were written more effectively. Chuck Hogan (“The Town”, “The Strain”) adapted the screenplay from the Mitchell Zuckoff novel of the same name. It faithfully follows the story with little deviation, but the problem isn’t so much the adaptation as the lack of real action scenes.

It’s a poor man’s “Black Hawk Down” from the get-go, with more than a few parallels throughout. A futile situation caused by a series of unfortunate events, leading to a firefight in a foreign land with no help to be found. At a lengthy two and a half hours, the biggest problem I had was that the action seemed strained. The story is compelling and heroic when the fighting starts, but it’s really limited by the events, and the focus is on these characters, who engage in meaningless banter without giving us much of an opportunity to get to know them properly. The portrayal of characters isn’t the problem, the payoff just wasn’t there.

The action sequences are blistered with Michael Bay’s trademark style. Basically everything explodes and the camera narrowly misses catching what you really want to see on the screen in lieu of cleverly manipulated lighting and dramatic panning across the landscape.

The Libyan insurgents are portrayed in typical jingoistic fashion; faceless, brainless foot soldiers who are incompetent in spite of their overwhelming numbers and firepower. It’s reminiscent of a Schwarzenegger or Stallone film at its core. It debases the value of the story, but you can’t really expect this type of film to be unbiased. It adds drama and allegiance, although in this case, the insurgents are unprovoked in their assault.

Jack (John Krasinski) and Tyrone (James Badge Dale) lead the cast of testosterone-fueled gladiators, but it’s really such an ensemble that there isn’t really a lead actor. The whole group does a nice job playing the part, particularly Pablo Schreiber (“Orange is the New Black”) as the operator providing the comic relief, Kris “Tanto” Paronto.

It may sound as if this was a terrible film, which it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination. For those interested in the genre, you will be thoroughly entertained, but likely not impressed. It’s not the fault of anyone in particular as much as a lack of compelling substance. This is not to downplay the heroism or importance of human life, but perhaps this film would have been better as an action film inspired by the events instead of based on them. 7/10.