In 1972, Palestinian terrorists brutally murdered 11 Israeli team members at the Summer Olympics in Munich.
Shortly thereafter, at the behest of prime minister Golda Meir and her cabinet, Israel’s Mossad secret police set up a cell of assassins in Europe. They were assigned to exact revenge on 11 high-ranked Palestinians who were accused of planning the assault and aiding the terrorists.
Steven Spielberg’s new action epic, Munich, briefly recaps the Olympic massacre and then methodically plots out the revenge story. It is an ambitious if overlong film “inspired” by reality, but obviously fictional in its nitty-gritty depiction of what actually happened.
Spielberg knew, of course, that he was tackling a contentious issue in a popular film for adults. He knew he took liberties with the historical facts in order to create a dramatic truth.
The point he makes in a mainstream entertainment is that violence begets violence, that terrorism will never be stopped by terrorism, and that morality is flexible, even murky, when nationalist politics are in play.
That may not be news but it is worth debating. On that level, Munich is relevant as a commentary on current events in the Middle East. The film is destined to stir up dissent among Israelis and Palestinians and their hardline supporters, because it is not propaganda for either side — and both sides get to give their spiel while blood is being spilled.
As a film, Munich is not very subtle. But it is highly effective as a taut thriller that manipulates us to sympathize with the core group of Israeli assassinations and then allows us to recoil in horror over some of their actions. That turmoil allows each viewer to question his or her own values.
Munich is based on the controversial book Vengeance, by Hungarian-Canadian writer George Jonas. The same book inspired Michael Anderson’s 1986 television movie, Sword Of Gideon. Years more removed from the events, Munich now resonates on a different level.
The structure of Tony Kushner and Eric Roth’s screenplay allows us to see how plausible it is that a country such as Israel, bent on revenge for a despicable act, could set up its own terrorist cell in Europe to do despicable things. The film also shows how a cell of men under this kind of pressure is fraught with problems due to their idiosyncrasies.
Spielberg cast well. Eric Bana (excellent as an “innocent” who will be bitter over his corruption) plays the head of the cell. Daniel Craig (the future 007) is the most eager killer. Mathieu Kassovitz (a French actor-director) is the bombmaker. Hanns Zischler is the forger. Ciaran Hinds is the icy cool agent who cleans up after the assassinations.
In other key roles, the brilliant Geoffrey Rush is their Mossad boss, Mathiew Amalrac is their anarchistic French contact — the one who provides when-and-where info on the targets — and Michael Lonsdale is Amalrac’s father.
Ayelet Zurer plays Bana’s pregnant wife, an Israeli who is disturbed by her husband’s absence. She also serves as the emotional lever that makes him vulnerable.
Canadian actress Marie-Josee Croze is a freelance spy-killer.
For the most part, Spielberg is supremely confident in moving the story forward and evoking the 1970s. But he does falter in one key scene near the end — an odious sequence in which sexual gratification and violence are juxtaposed as equals. This scene does not ruin the film, but it is a serious lapse for such an intelligent filmmaker.
That aside, Munich is a powerful, even shattering film that deserves to be seen, dissected and debated for content.
BOTTOM LINE
Steven Spielberg’s action opus will prove to be controversial among both Israelis and Palestinians. For the world at large, he effectively hammers home a peace message: Violence begets violence and nothing is ever solved.
