Jarhead: A-

Sam Mendes is a visual director. A man almost more preoccupied with the way his movie flows through haunting scenery than the way the movie actually, you know, flows. Having made his big-screen debut with the briliant "American Beauty", he now tackles another touchy subject: war. But not just any war, the war that never was. Or almost never was. Based on Anthony Swofford's novel about one 20 year old and his decision to join the marines, the movie follows Anthony "Swof" Swofford (Jake Gyllenhaal) as he works through recruitment then the war itself.

In true Mendes style the movie is brutal, but also extraoridinarily visceral as well. In the final moments of the movie we watch the soliders let off their rifles all at once all at the same time. Mixing bullet fire with the sparks of a giant bonfire. The enemy is never there in the war. Distant faces, and soon enough, burning oil geysers on the horizon. There is no fighting as Jake Gyllenhaal deadpans at the end: "I never even got to shoot my rifle."

And (again) in true Mendes style the movie is a riot. Jamie Foxx especially stands out as a cruel and sarcastic staff seargent who deploys a biting wit to cut his men down to size. Major Pane he is not. And Swofford's friend and sniper partner (Peter Saarsgard) would rather sell his soul than to collapse back into the waste of human existence. Yet even as I'm watching the movie, through all the laughter and grimaces, I never feel as if it's a movie I'm watching. Instead it feels more of a detached and disconnected docudrama. A series of snapshots of the war from hell.