Lee's wannabe World War II epic not quite a 'Miracle'
The most epic thing about the World War II drama "Miracle at St. Anna" is Spike Lee's attempt to create an epic.
His bloated, brutal, bloody account of an all-black U.S. fighting unit in Italy is certainly a respectable, even honorable undertaking. It spans more than 40 years and covers a lot of dramatic ground, showing how dedicated black American soldiers have to fight twice as many wars as their white counterparts: first against the Nazis and then against racism.
At least they win the first one.
"Miracle at St. Anna" is a sprawling, unwieldy movie that incorporates elements of a racial drama, ghost story, murder mystery and a war saga, with an added touch of magical realism. It's like watching five movies for the price of one.
Lee abhors a light touch and narrative directness. He uses that suspect device called "flashbacks-within-flashbacks" and wraps his production in Terrence Blanchard's overwrought, incessant score designed to take up narrative slack.
Lee, directing from James McBride's novel, wastes no time in getting to his point. In 1983, an old black man in Harlem sits watching a John Wayne war movie where all the soldiers around him are white.
"We fought for this country, too!" he says to himself.
The old man works at the post office where, instead of selling a customer a 20-cent stamp, he pulls out a German Luger and point-blank kills him.
The cops don't know what to make of it. They have no motive, just a priceless 450-year-old statue head they find in the man's closet. The head has been missing since World War II.
Fortunately, a neophyte New York newspaper reporter (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) convinces the old man to explain the killing, and the stone head, by launching into a huge flashback to 1944 in Tuscany. There we meet the soldiers of the 92nd Infantry: courageous Staff Sgt. Stamps (Derek Luke), lusty Sgt. Cummings (Michael Ealy), cool Cpl. Negron (Laz Alonso) and gentle giant Private Train (Omar Benson Miller).
They've survived a deadly river ambush (think the start of "Saving Private Ryan," but not as gut-wrenching) and have holed up in a small Italian village. There, Train saves the life of a 7-year-old boy named Angelo (Matteo Sciabordi) and becomes his protector. "I ain't never been this close to a white person!" Train says.
Cummings sets his amorous sights on a local beauty (Valentina Cervi). Stamps tries to keep his men alive. Meanwhile, the Nazis - who aren't all bad because one of the officers studies poetry - try to track down an elusive Partisan warrior, and the villagers argue a lot about fascism.
"Miracle" contains two massive, violent assaults - the aforementioned river crossing and a machine-gun slaughter at a church. These may pack the visceral punch of a Sam Peckinpah sequence, but not the poetic style. In fact, Lee doesn't trust subtlety. He brings on the sledgehammering visuals. (Yes, we see the little boy is dead, but let's shove a bloody close up in our faces to be sure.)
In a street clash between the Yanks and Nazis, soldiers on both sides constantly jump out from behind protective barricades so they can easily be mowed down by the enemy. In that respect, "Miracle" pays homage to bad World War II films.
The best moments in "Miracle" are the quieter, sobering ones, like when Stamps realizes he feels more accepted in Italy, a foreign country, than he does back home. Oops. No quiet revelations allowed here.
Another flashback-within-a-flashback shows us how German prisoners are given more respect than black GIs at a southern diner.
Subtle? Hard-Lee.
"Miracle at St. Anna"
2½ stars (out of four)
Starring: Derek Luke, Michael Ealy, Laz Alonso, Matteo Sciabordi
Directed by: Spike Lee
Other: A Touchstone Pictures release. Rated R for nudity, violence, language. 160 minutes.