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  • Educated in the best Ivy League schools, successful leaders in the business world, they were the best and the brightest, the core of John F. Kennedy's administration. They came to office in 1961 with high hopes that the world would become a better place. When they left, these expectations lay shattered amidst the rice paddies and jungles of Vietnam. Considered the architect of what came to be known as "McNamara's War", Robert S. McNamara, Secretary of Defense under both Kennedy and Johnson, was one of the brightest but had the reputation of being aloof and arrogant. This public image, however, may not have been the whole story. In the fascinating Oscar-nominated documentary, The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara, Errol Morris (The Thin Blue Line, Dr. Death) interviews the now 86-year old Defense Secretary in an effort to come to terms with what led to the quagmire of Vietnam and reveals a more complex, even strangely sympathetic man.

    Interspersed with archival footage, actual news broadcasts, and tape-recorded conversations from the period, the interview documents McNamara's personal account of his involvement with American policy from WW II to the 1960s. Culled from 20 hours of tape, the interview is separated into eleven segments corresponding to lessons learned during his life such as "Empathize with your enemy", and "Rationality will not save us". The Secretary does not apologize for the war, saying he was only trying to serve an elected President but is willing to admit his mistakes. He says that he now realizes the Vietnam conflict was considered by the North Vietnamese to be a civil war and that they were fighting for the independence of their country from colonialism, (something opponents of the war had been trying to tell him for over five years). Morris never undercuts McNamara's dignity or pushes him into a corner yet also does not slide troubling questions under the rug and there are some questions McNamara does not want to discuss.

    Though his reputation is that of a hawk, previously unheard tape-recorded conversations between McNamara and both Presidents reveal that he urged caution and opposed the continued escalation of the Vietnam War. In 1964, we hear Johnson say. "I always thought it was foolish for you to make any statements about withdrawing, but you and the President thought otherwise, and I just sat silent." McNamara also discusses his role in World War II, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his accomplishments as President of the Ford Motor Company. In talking about Cuba, he reveals how close the world came to nuclear annihilation, saved only by the offhand suggestion by an underling. McNamara repeats over and over again, demonstrating with his fingers, how close we all came to nuclear war. He talks openly about his involvement in World War II under General Curtis Le and how he helped plan the firebombing of 67 Japanese cities including Tokyo in which 100,000 Japanese civilians were killed. In a startling admission, he says that if the allies had not won the war, both he and Le May could have been tried as war criminals.

    Mr. McNamara has spoken out a bit late to save the lives of 50,000 Americans and several million Vietnamese but at least he has spoken and we can learn from his reflections. Though the Secretary does not apologize for the war, saying he was only trying to serve an elected President, to his credit he has looked at the corrosiveness of war and what it does to the human soul and we are left with the sense of a man who has come a long way. While his lesson that "In order to do good, one may have to do evil" sounds suspiciously like "the end justifies the means", his sentiments are clear that the U.S. should never invade another country without the support of its friends and allies. He says, "We are the strongest nation in the world today", he says, "and I do not believe we should ever apply that economic, political or military power unilaterally. If we'd followed that rule in Vietnam, we wouldn't have been there. None of our allies supported us. If we can't persuade nations with comparable values of the merit of our cause, we'd better re-examine our reasoning." A valuable lesson indeed.
  • If you possess an especially smug view of history's finality, this film may not do a great deal to impress you. For the rest of us, however, Errol Morris presents a truly complex picture of a clearly complex man.

    Many of the reviews I read of the film complain that there doesn't seem to be a main point that emerges from the film or its eleven "lessons," which are admittedly too cute by half in many cases. The point, though, is the complexity itself. The point is that history is bigger than its main players, and inscrutably difficult to judge in a definitive moral sense. I don't think I will ever forget McNamara's probing, clearly emotional questioning of the rules of war or the lack thereof, when he discusses how one evening he and general Curtis LeMay decided to burn to death 100,000 people in the Tokyo firebombing. The portrait of McNamara, as well as the two presidents he served, is one of human beings through and through, with all the fallibility and conflictedness that entails. The central quandary of war emerges for the viewer to see: it is the business of killing people, and that means that mistakes cause people to die needlessly.

    As I said, this film, taken in the right spirit, is deeply challenging. I would recommend it to anyone who has grappled with the enormity and awfulness of the history of the twentieth century.
  • rmax30482319 December 2004
    Where are you when we need you? A President from Texas acts upon faulty intelligence and gets the endorsement of Congress to use whatever force is necessary and then invades a country whose destiny is more or less irrelevant to the security of the United States. The war generates opposition at home and abroad. The President's domestic programs are cut in order to fund the war. Fifty thousand American lives are lost, and countless indigents die, despite the application of America's high tech weaponry. Having committed himself, not to mention the troops, the President is unable to back down because he doesn't want to lose. "Cut and run" is the expression he uses. In the end the country is united under an anti-American government and forgotten about.

    This really should be required viewing for voters who may not remember, or may not choose to remember, Vietnam. Those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it, to roughly quote George Santayana. It's easy to get into a war, and much harder to get out.

    And we should bear in mind that the subject of this interview, Robert Macnamara, didn't stand on the sidelines. He was at the center of the Vietnam conflict, which lasted about ten years. He was Secretary of Defense during eight of those years, until fired by Johnson for his increasingly public dissent. He organized the logistics of the war, gave JFK and Johnson advice. Sometimes the conflict was referred to as "MacNamara's War." So he's nobody's idea of an armchair analyst.

    The most telling and relevant moment comes at the beginning, during the Cuban missile crisis of October, 1962. President Kennedy has received a letter from Chairman Krushchov, saying, basically, that if the US promises not to invade Cuba, the Soviet missiles will be withdrawn. Then a second letter arrives, taking a much harder line than the first, implying a Soviet attack on America.

    What to do? Curtis LeMay, the Chief of Staff, thinks that since a war with the USSR is inevitable, let's begin it now while we have a 17 to one missile superiority. Another adviser suggests responding to the first, softer letter, while ignoring the second one. Kennedy demurs. What will that get us? He doesn't want to be seen as backing down. The adviser tells him, "Mister President, you're wrong about that." (MacNamara comments, "That took guts.") Kennedy finally gives in and agrees to follow the diplomatic route and responds to letter number one only. We wind up dismantling some obsolete missile bases in Turkey and in exchange the Soviets withdraw their missiles and war is averted. Who is the sage who would now tell the President, if a similar situation arose, that he was wrong? MacNamara comes across as a sympathetic and compassionate guy. He cusses a bit and his eyes tear up when he remembers picking out JFK's grave site in Arlington National Cemetery. He also describes -- without at all boasting about it -- his valuable contributions to the bombing campaigns of World War II.

    I don't see any bias in Errol Morris's editing, although who knows what wound up on the cutting room floor? It's MacNamara's show all the way and he's candid, keeps the secrets he feels necessary, and never loses dignity. He wrote a book about his period in office admitting that he'd made many mistakes in the run-up to and execution of the Vietnam War. The general reception by the liberal reviewers was that apologies weren't enough. Nothing was enough. The reviewers showed a lot less in the way of compassion than MacNamara shows here.

    The music is by Philip Glass, who is neat. It's hard to comment on the photography because so much of the footage is from newsreels or TV. It's a fine documentary and ought to be shown in political science classes. It should keep the students interested because it blends the human element with the political. The statistics that were so important to the President of the Ford Motor Company and the Secretary of Defense don't play much of a part in this documentary. What will keep the class attentive is the reenactment of all those human skulls bouncing down the staircase of a dormitory at Cornell University.
  • If you're like Errol Morris, and you want to make documentaries about unusual personalities, it's one thing to choose obscure subjects, people like Fred Leuchter (aka "Mr. Death") or men that excel in topiary hedge sculpture or the study of the African mole rat (two of the people interviewed in "Fast, Cheap and Out of Control"). Not many critics out there will be waiting to pounce if you don't get things just right about the likes of people like these. But it's quite another matter if you choose Robert S. McNamara, one of the last century's most towering, controversial, and - some would say - evil characters. "Fog of War" distills more than 20 hours of interviews that Morris conducted with McNamara over a span of two years, when McNamara was in his mid-80s, and the subjects - all various McNamara ventures - range from "his" World War II, through his days at Ford Motor Company, the Cuban missile crisis, and - finally and mainly - his views of the Vietnam War.

    As a result, Morris now finds himself in a no man's land of critical crossfire. On the one hand, film critics - people like Steven Holden, Roger Ebert and J. Hoberman - uniformly praise this work. While political pundits of the left - people like Eric Alterman and Alexander Cockburn of "The Nation" - lacerate Morris, accusing him of being overmatched, manipulated, not doing his homework (i.e., being naïve and unprepared), and thus allowing his film to be nothing but a conduit for the formidably crafty McNamara's continuing campaign of self aggrandizement and distortions of history. Whew. I think the controversy here is based on a misconstruction of the film's purposes by the pundits. First, it is quite clear that McNamara, in full command of his fierce intellectual and interpersonal powers, is not about to be pushed around by an assertive interviewer. McNamara is gonna say what McNamara wants to say, period. To drive home this point, Morris gives us a brief epilogue in which he asks McNamara a few trenchant questions about his sense of responsibility for the Vietnam War, why he didn't speak out against the war, and so on. And McNamara won't bite. He stonewalls Morris absolutely, with comments like, "I am not going to say any more than I have." Or, "I always get into trouble when I try to answer a question like that."

    More importantly, it doesn't matter very much if Morris or McNamara does not get all the facts straight. If the political pundits went to the movies more often, at least to Morris's films, they would know that his primary interest is in the character of his subjects - their integrity and beliefs and ways of explaining or rationalizing themselves and their lives: he's into people way more than into facts. "Fog of War" is not an oral history, it is the study of a person. For all that, in my estimation, Morris does get on film as close to an acceptance of responsibility for his actions in two wars as McNamara is likely ever to make, short of some dramatic, delirium-driven deathbed confession. He speaks of the likelihood that he and Curtis LeMay would have been deemed war criminals for the fire bombing of Japanese cities, had our side lost. And he speaks clearly when he says "we were wrong" in not seeing that the Vietnam War was a civil war, not a phase of some larger Cold War strategy by the USSR or China. What do the pundits want?

    Nor was it Morris's purpose to use Santayana's lesson about repeating history to rail at Bush's preemptive war in Iraq. In fact Morris decided to make this film way back in 1995, after reading several books by McNamara and concluding that he was a quintessential man of the 20th Century, embodying all that was so outstandingly smart and sophisticated and ultimately destructive. The interviews wrapped sometime in 2001, the year before Iraq. As usual in Morris's films, the editing is superb, with seamless use of archival footage and special visuals created for this film. I do think Morris gratuitously flattered McNamara by organizing the film around 11 platitudes of his - many of them banal aphorisms known to most high school graduates, students of martial arts, or your grandmother (e.g., "get the data," "empathize with your enemy," "rationality will not save us," "belief and seeing are both often wrong").

    Political pundits, mired in interpreting concretisms from the historical record, not only see too few films but also don't take seriously the symbolic visuals and sounds offered here. Philip Glass has created an edgy, anxious score that feels just right, just creepy enough for the macabre subjects at hand. I'm also thinking of the scenes when McNamara is recounting his pioneering (he claims) studies of auto safety. As we listen to him, Morris shows us human skulls wrapped in white linen being dropped several floors through a stairwell to smash upon the floor below, all in slow motion. The effect is chilling and speaks volumes about McNamara's famed passionless capacity to treat human carnage as a matter of statistical calculation. It is through such poetic characterization that Morris keeps the game with McNamara in balance.
  • My first encounter with Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara was in the late spring of 1966 when, as a young Army Intelligence officer just rotated back from Asia, I was assigned to the General Staff in the Pentagon and directed to brief him. The first of a number of occasions when I either briefed the secretary or, more often, was a resource aide to a senior officer, I was cautioned by a nervous lieutenant colonel to expect questions but never, absolutely never, to ground my response in "intuition." It was the pre-Powerpoint age but all briefers were admonished to either have facts best supported by charts and numbers or to simply confess ignorance.

    I acquitted myself reasonably well and there followed almost a year and a half of observing the nation's highest defense officials and generals in the superheated pressure cooker atmosphere of what we called the "Puzzle Palace."

    Gifted documentarian Errol Morris's "Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara" is a vital and presciently timely examination of a past that can repeat itself with incalculable harm to the United States. Interpolating documentary film clips from World War II through Vietnam with excerpts from an extensive interview with McNamara, the camera always focused on the alert, articulate and still (controllingly) brilliant eighty-six year old former secretary, Morris quickly takes viewers through his early life getting quickly to World War II. Then as an officer specializing in systems analysis he became a significant analyst whose studies supported the carpet bombing of Japan. His comments about General Curtis "Bombs Away with Curt LeMay" LeMay reflect his transition from wartime admiration for a superb combat leader to distrust of a four-star Air Force chief of staff champing at the opportunity to use nuclear weapons while we still had a commanding edge in what came to be called Mutual Assured Destruction.

    Interesting and important as McNamara's early war activities were, the crux of his life and the undying source of charge, defense and recrimination is his stewardship of the Defense Department during the early and mid years of the Vietnam conflict.

    Where Michael Moore wears his views on his sleeve and on the screen through entertaining ridicule and now predictable pillorying of his subjects, Morris wisely and effectively lets McNamara tell his story, prompted by an off-screen inquisitor whose tone is neither hostile nor friendly. The evidence supports McNamara's claim that he sought disengagement during the Kennedy years and he repeats the unprovable belief that J.F.K. would never have permitted the escalation that followed his death (McNamara's account of being Kennedy's right-hand cabinet man during the Cuban Missile Crisis can only leave viewers dry-mouthed as the implications of the Cold War cat-and-missile game clearly emerge as truly bringing the specter of nuclear conflagration to near reality).

    McNamara frames his eleven life lessons, none startling new advances in philosophical thought. He joins many scholars and advocates of binding international law, the majority of whom have never heard a shot fired, in arguing for the concept of proportionality in the exercise of force. He never seems to realize that contemporary armed conflict is very different, politically and militarily, from his wars.

    While stating sorrow for what war has wrought, and recognizing his own role, he never apologizes and credibly advances his message for the future through the technique of universalizing: mankind has a problem with violence. I was doing the best I could.

    Tapes of conversations with President Johnson, who eventually fired him with such subtlety that the Defense Secretary had to ask a friend whether he had resigned or been canned, are especially fascinating. Fractal shards of a once close and then disintegrating relationship, the brief excerpts illustrate just how little both the President and McNamara actually knew (McNamara made many trips to Vietnam-I remember them well. Each time he came back with a positive spin on what was an unraveling military and political situation).

    At the Pentagon I was struck by the almost total concurrence McNamara's policies and statements enjoyed among civilian leaders and generals alike. McNamara, I thought then and now, was not a man who needed sycophants. He was simply so sure he was right that it probably never occurred to him to wonder why he rarely encountered disagreement. I particularly remember Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman General Earle Wheeler as a mindless echoer of the secretary's thoughts.

    A brilliant documentary and a fair one too. McNamara clearly wants this film to be part of his legacy without it being an apologia.He does admit the United States was wrong in misjudging the nature of Vietnam and its history, wrong about assessing on-the-ground intelligence and wrong in not securing support from nations with traditions and values similar to ours (a curious and somewhat Europhilic anachronism). At the end he clearly and brusquely cuts off questions about personal guilt that, I'm sure, he will never be ready to address. Fair enough.

    I generally dislike any music by Philip Glass but in this film the minimalist score works very well against the documentary images. It would have been a big mistake for Morris to use the folk and protest music of the past.

    Morris is probably the finest, from an intellectual standpoint, documentarian working today in the U.S.

    10/10 (because of its enduring archival and current thought-provoking value)
  • I just watched the movie the "Fog of War". It is a candid interview with Robert McNamara. He is an 85 year old veteran of WWII and was Secretary of Defense under John Kennedy and Lydon Johnson. Of course, that made him Secretary during the Viet Nam war.

    It is an amazing account of the lessons learned from a man who lived in interesting times in a powerful position of influence. I get the sense that it is exceptionally honest - about both the success and failures. It was directed by Earl Morris and has a kind of refreshing balance that is NOT present in the films of Michael Moore. I highly recommend this movie.

    Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the movie is that the lessons McNamara learned are still not understood by the Bush administration with respect to the Iraq conflict. The parallels to that conflict and the conflict in Iraq are scary. Once of the eleven enumerated lessons are a need to respect and understand the culture of the people with whom you are engaged in conflict. He made the statement that he believes that the reason that the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 ended peacefully was that they reached a point where they really tried to understand the Soviets. The reason that Viet Nam failed is that we never learned to understand the culture of the people of Viet Nam. He also mentioned that none of our allies with largely shared values were opposed to our involvement in Viet Nam. We should have recognized that as a warning sign that perhaps we were doing something wrong.

    Scary, isn't it!
  • This is an interesting documentary precisely because it makes so little effort to put McNamara's actions in a larger historical context. We catch glimpses of the world's opinion of McNamara in MTV-fast clips from newspapers, but mainly this is McNamara in his own words. He is thoughtful and quite bright, but even though he was an architect of a war, in a way his is the soldier's view of battle. In a way the soldier only sees a portion of the battle, McNamara gives us a very specific view of history. He is an intriguing character, interested in the complexities and ambiguities of action, admitting at one point that he could be realistically considered a war criminal but often skirting responsibility for his decisions. He comes across not as duplicitous but as simply limited to a view of the world informed by his particular place in it, which is true of most of us. A documentary about McNamara could have shown other viewpoints and given a very different perspective on the man, but it's fascinating to just hear this one intelligent if biased perspective.

    Morris does a better job than usual of staying out of his own film's way. I have always found him intolerably gimmicky, but here his restless editing actually works, and for once I even like a Philip Glass score, which helps the film sustain its melancholy tone. This is not to say that I didn't get sick of his endless slow motion shots of historical incidents or didn't wish he would display press clippings at a speed where I could actually read them all, but overall the film is very effective.
  • I can't remember when I last saw anything as chilling as this great documentary... maybe the original 1988 version of The Vanishing, which equally left one profoundly disturbed at how studied and artful yet gratuitous and without any ultimate meaning or purpose the genesis of certain evil is.

    The lifetime analytical/"intellectual" opus of McNamara, on behalf of the US government, as portrayed in the records shown on the Fog of War, is eerily reminiscent of those obsessive Nazi written orders and documents that we see in WW2 documentaries. Everything counted and tabulated, percentualised and extrapolated. Such infinite trouble and such enormous pains taken, such an exemplary work ethic shown, such savage analysis and documentation undertaken... and all for what, other than the pursuit of goals actually lying between pure amorality and utter immorality?

    It's understandable and thereby almost tolerable that one - nation state or individual - should fall into unforgivable amorality or immorality by default, by sloth, out of disorganisation, cluelessness or personal weakness. But to somehow achieve an utter darkness of spirit after such effort, study and personal severity is devastatingly eerie, perverse and perplexing.

    McNamara does have a momentary tear in his eye as he recounts his decades of power across several utterly brutal wars, and it is for Jack Kennedy and his final Arlington resting place. Ultimately, he can be summed up via the school-captain smirk he wears standing next to Kennedy as he announces his appointment as Secretary of State in 1961. Power for the sake of power, success for the sake of success, any claims made to morality and right as meaningless as they are irrelevant. The man a perfect reflection of his country post WW2. Macchiavelli would consider himself surpassed.

    These are conclusions that someone, ethically sensitive but not at all prejudiced here (indeed barely knowing anything about this man), can reach just by viewing what is effectively a documentary self-portrait. Director Errol Morris' genius consists in having allowed McNamara to reveal himself so eerily and damningly even while being given free use of a stage to lay out a grand sophistry of reflections, rationalizations and truisms to justify or expiate his lifetime's work.

    Quite an unforgettable experience, and all the more because so unexpectedly and improbably given the self-portrait format. Phillip Glass' own genius should be acknowledged, as well as Morris' brilliance in exploiting it in The Fog of War, with eerie minimalism the perfect soundtrack here as in The Thin Blue Line 15 years earlier.

    We may not quite have plumbed the depths of gut-emptying futility and Shakespearean despair with this documentary X-Ray of McNamara, but we are close. I can only think of Henry Kissinger, Dick Cheney, Richard Perle and a few of the latters' soul mates as subjects that could supply an even more devastating moral experience and take us to rock bottom itself.
  • My own opinion of former defence sectary Robert McNamara is the same as that from critics who described him as " A conman ... An IBM computer on legs " and a technocrat who swapped technology for statistics . But this documentary entitled THE FOG OF WAR almost had me writing a heart felt apology to the man . I did say almost

    What you think of this documentary is how you morally view conflict and morality . Is there any morality in waging war ? Probably not aside from pursuing a national interest and I did admire McNamara's honesty in saying if America had lost the second world war then the American government would have been tried for war crimes . We also learn that the United States Army Air Force found out the best way to stop a 20% mechanical failure on American planes bombing Germany was to court martial pilots if they turned back before reaching the target which soon led to a 0% mechanical failure on USAAF planes . Not to blow his own trumpet McNamara also tells his audience that he commissioned market research for Ford motor company , took part in amazing ( And quite amusing ) safety tests and fitted seat belts in American cars which save about 20,000 lives every year

    But it was the waste of lives in South East Asia in the 1960s that McNamara is infamous for and it's this part of the documentary that I have a serious problem with . Despite what the liberal lobby screech about Nixon widening the war in South East Asia the waste of human life must fall squarely on the shoulders of LBJ and Robert McNamara . McNamara is NOT a stupid ignorant man but according to this documentary he was responsible for msome quite ridiculous errors such as not reading up on Vietnamese history or realising the conflict was a civil war . Of course it could be that because he was such an authoritative figure where statistics was concerned McNamara could be of the mind set that a war of attrition where one side with superior fire power with total command of the air and sea holding a manifold kill ratio over the other side will always win a war . This is totally consistent with McNamara's and American military ( Especially Westmoreland ) thinking but this aspect of American strategy in Vietnam is never brought up . We're also led to believe that The Gulf Of Tonkin incident was hyped up by Johnson but is McNamara blameless ? Yes according to McNamara because a war is a president's responsibility in which case I have to ask what does a defence sectary do all day ? And if someone who killed 100,000 Japanese civilians in an air raid is " A war criminal " then how do you describe someone responsible for fighting a war that eventually led to over 3,000,000 deaths most of them civilians ? There's some massive contradictions here especially when you consider " Empathizing with your enemy " is something he learned during the Cuban missile crisis but totally forgot for some reason during Vietnam

    Despite the rather biased subject matter it's impossible to neither hate Robert McNamara or THE FOG OF WAR in the way someone can hate either Donald Rumsfeld or FARENHEIT 9/11 . With a Michael Moore documentary you know what to expect - Smug partisan glee that adds nothing to knowledge or understanding of a situation while the same smugness seems to be part of parcel of the Rumsfeld ego trip and you can't accuse Rumsfeld of being any type of intellectual . McNamara is different because he is a learned academic and while you may not agree with the 21st century neo-con admin in Washington you can at least understand where they're coming from . In a not very heavily disguised reference to the present war on terror McNamara says America lost the Vietnam war because " None of our allies Germany , Japan , Britain or France agreed with us " . Untrue . America lost Vietnam because neither LBJ or his defence sectary bothered to understand Vietnamese nationalism . Worse still unlike the present war on terror none of the strategy involving intervention in Vietnam was necessary in any way
  • Warning: Spoilers
    First, I will not waste our time here by enumerating all of the historical or factual inconsistencies, and detours around the truth as presented by Robert McNamara in this documentary. My intent and focus is not for the sake of historical correction. I'll let others tend to that as they most assuredly will. Plenty of fodder here. Astoundingly so.

    Rather, my review will more importantly theorize the nature of Robert McNamara, and what such a character can wrought, as based on my watching this documentary twice, transfixed. And I'll do so, not to necessarily set the record straight as to the history, but to record what I believe is a moral lesson to be learned here from the essence of McNamara as presented in this documentary and when weighed against ubiquitous historical accounts that most certainly conflict with McNamara's dubious account.

    I found the interviewee to have a subdued yet profound sustained arrogance that is rather remarkable and is seldom seen in a person with a similar record to his. Subdued given his physical age, perhaps. More likely subdued given the long period he has had to carry his burden of guilt, however small that burden is for someone as self-assured, as intellectually obtuse, as detached from an ability to be honest, as devoid of good spirit as he is.

    Usually people such as McNamara, when targeted for an interview, steer clear of such venues as their records are clearly indefensible. Not Robert McNamara ! He actually agreed to this documentary. Hubris in its crystalline highly refined form.

    The unique quality of this documentary is that it provides just that. A glimpse into who these particular creatures truly are. We are all eventually exposed to these types in our lives, but few of these specimens descend to McNamara's level. And to observe one in the wild as he's hunted or stalked, in this instance by the interviewer, however timid....well it's an intimate experience indeed.

    There have been no such documentaries where Polpot, Ho-Chi Minh, Stalin, Genghis Kahn, Alexander the Great, Ill Duce, Hitler, Nero, Mao or Napoleon were interviewed face to face. Mostly because the technology did not exist, obviously. But I'm left to ponder whether they would have committed themselves the way Robert McNamara has here, given their own indefensible records? Regardless, this documentary provides a unique opportunity to study this general category of persons. It's surreal to observe this documentary in terms of a character study.

    To size up Robert McNamara as a man. To watch intently how he navigates, evades, rationalizes, plays slalom around the agonizing truth, and searches for an absolution that will never come. How he insinuates a defense by nibbling around the edges of his own record, but refuses to flat out address the more pointed questions put to him regarding the heart of his own record. Watching him shamelessly hide behind President Johnson (D) when pressed, as if he were an innocent bystander and not Johnson's key military advisor. The cherry-picking of WH recordings that laughably endeavor to produce an exoneration from the less savvy viewer. Someone like McNamara would call that low hanging fruit. And he won't agree to play other recordings where he recommends troop escalations to President Johnson. He would have never agreed to the interview(s) if they were included. For these reasons I most certainly do not fault the Director Errol Morris. He got what he could get from Robert McNamara. And then there's Robert McNamara's 10 Lessons that he was arrogant enough to present to us peasants in this documentary. My personal favorite lesson McNamara afforded us was "Get the Data".

    Historical accounts (unsurprisingly not included in this documentary) indicate Robert McNamara would regularly study data and statistics, and from this "data"--that he got---he would proceed to conduct the Vietnam War from a scientific standpoint. He would actually use this data exclusively, sans any other factors human or otherwise, to ascertain target packages for our bombers, to qualify escalation of the war, to quantify additional troop deployments, to assess bomb damage, and to assess enemy casualty figures and enemy dispositions. Get the Data ! 58,318. Now there's a data point Americans would've appreciated your analysis of Secretary McNamara.

    The obvious absurdity backstopped by supernatural arrogance that comes part and partial with receiving "Ten Lessons" from Robert McNamara of all people, one is left drop-jawed in utter disbelief. Is this a real person?

    As I watched Fog of War a 2nd time, I specifically and forcibly strived to find repentance in this man but found none. Remarkable. Sad really.

    Specifically, I believe deep down inside he suspects his actions "may" have been wrong. Perhaps. But it is this suspicion that he is wrong, and not the actions themselves, that causes him such deep pain from within. Pride ! He is a very proud man, brilliant as per the written test scores and unprecedented list of marquee credentials. Why he has a Presidential Medal of Freedom didn't ya know? But his pride is an obstacle for him, an obstacle to that which that medal of his was meant to honor: Freedom. Ironical. A man enslaved to his own Pride. Drowning in his own unrepentance. An obstacle to him even in his advanced age. Cause of Death ~ PRIDE. All the time he must have spent after serving as Defense Secretary, pondering--anguishing-over how he can make this so that he can be proven right and rest easy.

    The thing about humility and repentance is that they come at the expense of pride alone or they come not all.

    Hopefully before he took his last breath he forsook the pride that hamstrung him so profoundly in life, and repented. If he did, oh what a glorious first and last act of courage.

    I find it fitting to close out my review of this exceptional documentary and case study by quoting a different humanist and fool who was much admired by Robert McNamara and many others:

    "Our problems are man-made, therefore they may be solved by man. And man can be as big as he wants. No problem of human destiny is beyond human beings."

    When man relies solely on his own understanding, separating himself from God, elevating himself and other men above God, parading himself about like a jackass, fawning over the hollow merits of intellectualism, drowning in their own self-righteousness, self-servitude, self absorption, adopting a relativistic regard for truth, what could possibly go wrong?
  • An interesting effort, but rather one dimensional. Basically it is an hour and a half interview with Robert McNamara with various video and audio weaved into various places. It would have been much more interesting to hear more voices balancing McNamara. They were certainly available. At any rate, this documentary seemed overrated. Some useful insights, but far from a major achievement. Some reviews said liberals and conservatives alike would find things to be enraged about, but we didn't find it interesting enough to be even a little angry, much less enraged. McNamara comes across as an equivocating dissembler. We've known this for many years. Not really a lot new in this movie.
  • Robert McNamara is most remembered today as President Kennedy's Defense Secretary. His time in that position encompassed most of America's involvement in the Vietnam War, and while many definitely view him as an immoral and despicable person for his part in furthering the conflict, this documentary tries to (via the words of McNamara himself) expose some of america's past mistakes. While nobody likes to make them, they are one of the fastest ways to learn something. The film itself consists of archive footage from various points in history, stretching all the way back to 1917 when McNamara was born. Having been born just in time to miss the carnage of the First World War, we see how Robert went to the prestigious college at Berkeley University before going on to study business at Harvard. By the time of World War 2, he was an officer in the Army Air Forces. His boss, General LeMay, orchestrated absolutely unrelenting bomber raids on dozens of Japanese cities in the closing months of the war. McNamara reveals how during a mission over Tokyo, over 100 thousand people were killed in just one night (more than all of England in the Blitz). Post war, he served as president of Ford for a little over a month before leaving voluntarily to serve as JFK's secretary of defense. In this role, he would be responsible for advising Kennedy on the escalating and worrying situation in Southeast Asia and what should be done about it. This documentary, at several points, has the same powerful effect on the viewer that something like Ken Burns' vietnam series did for me. The things being shown onscreen are often shocking, and they typically come right after the other, allowing you to fully realize the sheer scale of the things McNamara oversaw. One scene has him discussing the Cuban Missle Crisis, probably the closest the world ever came to ending. LeMay, now an air force Chief of Staff, was trying to urge Kennedy to bomb cuba. Thankfully it didn't come to that, but eventually in the 1990s, a meeting between Fidel Castro and McNamara revealed that the former was fully willing to obliterate his entire country (and possibly Earth) in order to engage in nuclear war with the US. You can't talk about Robert without bringing up how he handled vietnam. In the early 60s, McNamara saw Kennedy more distraught than ever before after learning that a coup had taken place in south vietnam, which resulted in its president being murdered. Although america never officially said it was at war with north vietnam, McNamara shared the view of many other americans: the south was our friend and we couldn't let go of it. After Kennedy is shot and LBJ replaces him, things honestly just get worse and worse. US casualties rapidly pile up, and the men there don't even want to fight in the first place. Still, McNamara explains that he was serving under the president, and it was his job to execute whatever plans the president thought necessary in order to resolve the vietnam issue. Because the film spends the most time on the subject of vietnam, it becomes kind of confusing, and even McNamara himself says he's reluctant to talk about the war. Not because he's ashamed of his part in it, but because it was such a complicated series of events that anything he says will require a slew of analyses. Throughout the movie, he makes several important points that americans should remember if they want to avoid horrific events like vietnam in the future. One of these is especially memorable and will apply as long as the US is a country. He says that america should be ready and able to explain the justness of what it is trying to do militarily to its allies. During vietnam, even america's staunchest partners (Britain, France, etc.) stood out of it and saw it as an act of aggression. Most people thought we had no right to be there. If the US is having a hard time explaining why a war is necessary, maybe the mindsets of those in charge needs adjusting. McNamara's points are all crucial and relevant to the modern world, but he states something a lot would disagree with, that being the fact that participating in evil acts can sometimes be unavoidable. He relates to his time in world war 2, during which his superior LeMay sent hundreds upon hundreds of planes at a time towards japan in order to completely level many of their cities. Not even counting the two nukes, the bomb damage done to the country was ridiculous. Cities roughly the size of New York had over half their buildings blown to bits. McNamara's point here is that while many would think LeMay is a war criminal for ordering things like that, it had to be done so that american troops wouldn't have to undertake the unthinkable task of physically invading japan. McNamara even appears sad when recounting many of these moments, proving that he most likely remembers and admires a famous quote by JFK: mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind. The quote is much more haunting when you understand the earth is (still) infested with thousands of nuclear weapons, each one powerful enough to destroy an entire city. McNamara tells us hopefully war planners won't make the mistakes they already made a second time, but in the age of nuclear weapons, even one mistake in unacceptable. Just one will essentially start armageddon. Overall, The Fog of War is a really great documentary. It goes over the actions of an important american figure; one who understood the futility of war but sent thousands of young americans to their deaths in a jungle on the other side of the world for basically no good reason. It wasn't a proud chapter in US history, but if you don't learn from history, you will have to repeat it.
  • The Fog of War depicts the controversial figure of Robert McNamara as an introspective, sympathetic, and complex individual whose aim is to pass on the knowledge of his military and life experiences. Director Morris assists in McNamara's purpose, exposing the inevitable mistakes of war and nuclear weapons with disturbing footage, intense music, and a focus on pathos. These grant McNamara's points with more validity as the audience can attempt to see things from the perspective of a man trying to do what's right in the midst of war.

    In the film, war is described as a form of human nature that is so complex that we cannot comprehend it, resulting in inaccurate and unnecessary deaths. Morris develops this theme with evil "warmonger" portrayals of military officials such as LeMay, perhaps aloof depictions of government officials, and a generally inactive public during the destructive decades of the various wars. Though McNamara explains the devastation of war and the actions of the Pentagon, of which he was apart of and responsible for, he is not arguing against war or apologizing for his career. Because he believes that war cannot be eliminated, McNamara advocates minimizing war and the killing of people, including abandoning the practice of nuclear warfare. However, in no part of the film does McNamara directly state that he is solely held responsible for some of the mistakes of the Vietnam War, and instead explains such passively as lessons to be learned for all of us.

    With extended metaphors, dramatic music, and profound use of powerful visuals, Morris does an exquisite job of exhibiting McNamara and his ideas, whilst exposing his audience to the bitter reality of war. No matter your view of Robert McNamara, I recommend watching this film if not for any reason but to understand his point of view in such a controversial time in history. Awareness of the mistakes of war will help us either avoid them in the future or fight for what's right, and the Fog of War makes that clear to audiences around the world. Though some atrocities cannot be eliminated, how we conduct ourselves and our powers can be changed for the better, for the future.
  • I once read Adolf Eichmann's capacity to engineer The Holocaust described as 'The Banality of Evil' and that pretty much sums up other soulless, high-level bureaucrats like McNamara and Rumsfeld, as well. They effortlessly block out the horrendous nature of what they've been tasked to do by the rationalization of how brilliant and efficient they were, even if that brilliance and efficiency causes the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent people.

    The mere fact that McNamara, to this day, loves to continue talking and dwelling on his life's 'accomplishments' as a source of pride is a textbook study on the psychology of how anyone, no matter how supposedly brilliant, can rationalize what are otherwise despicable acts.

    And just like a high-ranking Nazi war criminal, McNamara is quite clever and does a good job of trying to convince the viewer that he's somewhat repentant of what he's done, but it's readily apparent that his real agenda in making this documentary is to make sure everyone knows what a clever bastard he was throughout his life in whatever he was instructed to do. It's this 'brilliance' that is his ultimate absolution for the consequences of his actions.

    This is the real reason he stuck it out with Johnson, even though he claims to have disagreed with his policies. Had McNamara even an ounce of conscious, he would have quit immediately when Johnson began the Vietnam escalation but he just couldn't bring himself to believe that anyone else could do as good a job of prosecuting the war. Likely as not, Rumsfeld will make the same claim years from now.

    It's astonishing how similar McNamara is to Donald Rumsfeld in virtually every aspect. I guess we'll have to wait another thirty odd years or so to watch 'The Banality of Evil, Part 3', when Donald Rumsfeld makes his attempt at getting people to believe he's repentant for what will surely be judged as equally (if not more) catastrophic-as-Vietnam 'Iraq experience'.
  • People who watch Errol Morris' Fog of War will be left with a lot to think about. There are a number of parallels to be drawn between what Americans faced during the Vietnam War era and what Americans face now with middle-east conflicts. Morris has directed several controversial documentaries, but Fog of War is very different. He allows the subject of the documentary, Robert McNamara, to remain the focus of the film from beginning to end. Fog of War is very stylish but the artistic features don't take away from the social and political commentary. Instead, they add to it and make the film more enjoyable. This is an important film and while McNamara deserves most the credit for its success, Morris presented the content of this film in a way that made it both provocative and entertaining.

    When Morris had an opportunity to interview Robert McNamara, he had no idea what was about to happen. Morris was making a film about Vietnam, not McNamara specifically. However, what was intended to be a 20 minute interview turned into a several hour candid conversation. This interview turned conversation became the backbone of Fog of War. It is obvious that something like guilt has been bugging McNamara and for whatever reason, Morris brought it out.

    As a former secretary of defense for John F. Kennedy and then Lyndon Johnson, McNamara was one of the most important figures from the Vietnam War, in charge of things like bombing campaigns and overall military strategy. Before that, McNamara was a brain behind figuring out how to kill lots of people in World War II. At one point, McNamara says directly to the camera, '…we were behaving as war criminals. What makes it moral if you win but immoral if you lose?' He's making a point about the way the U.S. and allied forces bombed the hell out of Japan, sending hundreds of thousands to fiery graves, mostly civilians.

    Morris uses what he calls the 'Interrotron', a device which allows the subject, here it's McNamara, to look directly into the camera and see the interviewer, here that's Morris. To the audience, it seems like McNamara is looking right at us, which makes it seem even more confessional than it already is. At certain times in Fog of War, McNamara seems so happy that he has an opportunity to talk about his experiences, but at other times, he seems like he's so defensive about his reputation. All of that seems to have something to do with the way Errol Morris asks questions. Morris is friendly but asks pointed questions that McNamara has a tough time avoiding.

    Probably the most important moment of Fog of War is when McNamara talks about mankind and its inability to learn from history. He seems very pessimistic but has moments where he seems to think people can learn from the past. It's easy to think about Donald Rumsfeld and wonder what sort of conversations he might have with McNamara. Another great moment in Fog of War is when McNamara gets to meet a general from the Vietnamese army, one of McNamara's adversaries from 30 years ago. It's then where we see that McNamara still doesn't accept much responsibility for what he did during the Vietnam War. He thinks of himself as just being an employee working for the president.

    Fog of War makes people think about a lot, but that's because of Robert McNamara more than Errol Morris. This was McNamara's film and Morris just happened to hold the camera in place when he probably felt like cringing or even laughing at times. During his famous acceptance speech for Fog of War, which won an Academy Award for Best Documentary, Morris reminded the worldwide audience to be careful, because the United States seems to be making the same mistakes it made during the Vietnam War. That's up to the audience to decide, but Fog of War definitely makes everybody think about that.
  • The Fog of War, one of the best film of 2003, is because of the chances that Errol Morris takes with filming his subject, former defense secretary Robert McNamara, combined with the countless images either in montage or slow-motion or brief archival footage mode. It's an assembly of very insightful, if (of course) not altogether the whole truth and nothing but, interview clips by letting the viewer into the way of thinking of this man who became apart and witness to World War 2, Cuba and Vietnam conflicts. It would be one thing to just have a simple sit-down interview with the man and his total life and career choices and the like. But just right in the way Morris films McNamara you know you're getting something different. He is shown (practically) going on in his sharp, raspy 80-something voiced monologues, and he is always looking at the viewer into the camera. It's something a little better than a trick, as it's a special camera set-up where the viewer is given a more personalized take on the subject looking right on. It's left up to the viewer, then, to decide how much is real reflections and honest accounts, or maybe not.

    It's amazing to see such a man as McNamara go on- holding a great interest- in the cross-sections of his life, which was never planned but taken in stride for better and for lesser times. McNamara's tips, or 'lessons' as they are sectioned off in the film, range from delivering hard facts and even poignant touches. And there are so many lessons that come through the film, not just in the overall point of each segment but in the little marks of knowledge about the nature of mass warfare, conflicting with the other side (and the possible empathy needed for it), that sometimes one not living around in that time of McNamara in the white house may wonder how he grew to be disliked in the press and public. Of course, even McNamara has to say "there are some things I can't talk about", and once this is understood what information is given is presented in a very nifty way. Sometimes even still images showing McNamara listening or talking to his Presidents speak many words. The symbolism is great, too, as dominoes fall, or reverse.

    The Fog of War succeeds so well in presenting McNamara's reflections and stories and accounts, it even borders on being emotional, or having at least a sentiment (not sentimentality) about the many errors in human judgment in times of crisis. When he talks of people who were rather flawed like Curtis Le May, it's with a kind of logic though that measures out the wrong with what was at least considered right. The morals of men under pressure are a big component in the film, and as the Vietnam section rolls along- and a lesson learned from the Cuba crisis is left by the wayside- it becomes as close to shocking as the PG-13 film could get. For all of the mistakes or faults in judgment or of the dreaded uncertain times McNamara found himself in with those around him, there was good accomplished as well, if for the future to see. One of the best moments in the film is when the former defense man tells of a meeting he had in 1995 with an old Vietnam leader, who has to set the record straight for him to understand the real core of conflict. Such moments have a haunting resonance that also acts in other sections of the film.

    That all of the stories are fascinating, and then wrapped in this expertly edited style of old clips (as well as ultra-rare audio tapes from inside the white house) with Phillip Glass's better than usual score, only adds to its appeal. It's straightforward in that it is quite the subjective document and testimony, but it's also a unique film for how it pushes into demanding its audience be smart enough to grasp all that McNamara, and Morris, have in mind. It's the kind of film, too, that I watch almost any time it's on TV.
  • I learned things I didn't know, saw that beliefs I had were false, and gained a greater understanding of the facts I already had at hand. All of this was done with an engaging and original visual style, with yet another fine Philip Glass score. Robert McNamara is a riveting intellect and personality, and shows that being one of the best and the brightest does not make a person immune to a tidal wave of history, which can drown anyone when it comes, and comes hard.

    It is unfortunate that so many filmed documentaries do little more than project a television-style news program onto a big screen. Even lovers of Fahrenheit 9/11 have to admit that it brings little to the table cinematically. The Fog of War has cinematic style and historical substance.

    10 out of 10
  • We helped choose the title of this movie in a Morris questionnaire at an advance screening at Brown U. in 2002. My title was "The Wars of Robert McNamara", since it is about his inner travail and guilt even at the murderous bombing raids of Japan, where we were killing 50-100,000 a pop in the 1000 plane firebomb raids for the last 8 months. I remember seeing the statistics and being stunned- Americans had become scientists of death. The title "Fog of War" is pretty hackneyed. The movie is a brilliant haunting evocative look at McNamara's life and tortures in the powerful positions he held. The most moving stuff is his deep qualms about the murderous raids on Japan, which he planned as Curtis LeMay's deputy. Most stunning was his revelations about the near end of the world in the Cuban Missile Crisis, when the Cubans actually had 162 live nuclear warheads on the island, and Castro's recommendation was to USE THEM if we invaded. Everything the US did was based on our belief that they had NONE. I actually heard that a few days earlier from McNamara himself, at a concurrent conference on the Missile Crisis, and questioned him after (http://hammernews.com/mcnamara.ram). It was a stunning revelation, like being punched in the stomach, since I'd done several big articles on the threat of nuclear war.

    McNamara is still smart, wily, and unwilling to be forced into any unwanted admission. He does show sorrow and pain at the results of his actions in Vietnam, and Morris's expert merging of historical audio show Mac and Kennedy were advocating withdrawal as far back as 1963. A fascinating character study, an important historical document, and a slick merging of media, music, man, and movie.

    Michael Hammerschlag
  • As a young man in the 1960s, I sometimes saw and heard the US Defense Secretary in cinema news clips and on TV. He came across as arrogant, over-confident, powerful and didactic...

    Nothing much has changed in the last forty years, despite McNamara's admission that, if the US had lost World War II, he and General Curtis LeMay would have been tried as war criminals. You could probably say the same thing about the man in relation to the Vietnam War also which was, in the final analysis, an utter waste and debacle.

    In both cases, however, McNamara makes no apologies for helping to orchestrate some of the worst civilian casualties in history while bombing many Japanese cities into ashes and the napalm nightmare plus Agent Orange horror visited upon Vietnam villages.

    The documentary, in Morris's usual fashion, simply allows McNamara to talk directly to the camera; interleaved with that are many official film records from war and photos etc from his own early years. So, the human face of the man is constructed – or attempted -- showing his doubts, his misgivings, his struggles with different wars and different presidents. Never once, in my opinion, does he come across as being someone you'd like to know...

    But, perhaps that's true of most public figures in times of war? No doubt he was a good family man as the footage purports to show; however, many grossly evil people have recourse to such revisionism – without mentioning any names – at later times, and even more so now.

    The sad truth is that, regardless of which side you're on, leaders who are caught up in wars often must do things that are abhorrent for most. That doesn't excuse their behavior or exonerate them from culpability. McNamara – to give him his due – at least now admits that he and others made many mistakes, which, for the documentary, he encapsulates into his eleven lessons from life. But, what it does mean is that humankind still has a long way to go before our proclivity to be all too human is finally eclipsed by a commonality of purpose in our shared humanity.

    Ultimately, that's the failure of McNamara and all people like him.

    Highly recommended for all mature viewers.
  • I don't quite understand the high rating for this film. It felt very ordinary to me.

    McNamara is obviously a bright guy and leaves one hopeful that old age does not always cause a reduction in ones mental faculties. (Or, alternatively, that if you start out with a whole big lot of mental faculties, you're still gonna seem smart at 85, even if you've lost some.) Other than that inadvertent point, however, the documentary doesn't really tell a reasonably well-informed viewer much that one doesn't already know. McNamara is wise enough to recognize that he had an important role in the Vietnam debacle, but canny enough not to volunteer to take on more responsibility than he can comfortably shoulder. His conversations have the feel of having been well-honed in many an academic debate and cocktail-party social hour. Nothing too gruesome, nothing too righteous and always willing to acknowledge (with a genial smile) the possibility that he is wrong.

    The frustration is that McNamara refuses to engage in any discussion of the moral/personal issues raised by his actions and that the interviewer lets McNamara get away with this refusal. Ultimately, therefore, the film sometimes feels like little more than an "insider-y" history of the war, narrated by a sort of "war celebrity." Ultimately, what's the point? I suppose McNamara has the right to keep his own counsel as to his personal feelings (and as to what was going on with his family -- he hints at all sorts of problems, including a FIRM assertion that all of his family benefited from his move into government...that just cries out that the opposite was the case) but if he's not going to open up, what we're left with feels like something one could have read more quickly in a magazine article.

    The other problem with the film is that it ends up feeling both over-edited and padded with endless clips of bombs falling and meaningless close-up shots of tiny bits of text ("houses destroyed", "troop strength", "warmonger" etc. etc.) that are clearly there just to add color, with no real value of their own. The interview feels stretched-out and the "11 lessons" feel forced into the film as a pretty arbitrary framing device...they certainly weren't part of McNamara's thinking and they don't really help organize the material.

    Still, this isn't a complete waste of time. McNamara is an engaging speaker and it is interesting to hear some of the thought processes of one of the "best and brightest" who has run large parts of US policy for a long time. But the film stops well short of being great.
  • After spending an hour or so with an old man, a product of a important American university, a corporate player and a major decision maker in government policy, a man probably responsible for thousands of human deaths, one wonders why more of us have not been incinerated by bombs set loose by well-meaning madmen who are able to intellectualize and justify mass carnage with few second thoughts.

    This is an admirable slice of film-making, and while recognizing it's importance as a document, the ideas emanating from the human centerpiece didn't exactly thrill me; mass annihilation is not a particularly salubrious topic. This is a creepy, unsettling film about a man who learns quickly but whose messianic zeal is frightening. The film questions humanity's ability to learn from past mistakes and is seldom optimistic about it.
  • tonykeith-417943 November 2019
    A mass murderer waxing lyrical on the subject of his practice. The devastating horrors he wrought on untold numbers seems to have found no traction with this subject's conscience.
  • It's been a long while since I first saw McNamara in the Fog of War, but it still rates as one of the best films I've ever seen, fiction or non-fiction.

    The scenes where he recounts the US bombings of Japan will always remain in my consciousness, and once you've seen the film, you'd be hard pressed not to remember them.

    But just as interesting was his descriptions of his time at Ford, and the use of egg cartons as inspiration for car manufacture.

    It also shows how great movie making can benefit from a less is more approach to shooting the subject.

    Truly one of the must see movies of one's movie viewing career.
  • From reading other viewer's comments here it appears that the answer to the question, "Robert McNamara: Good or Evil?" lies entirely in the mind of the beholder, and very few minds appear capable (or willing) to think outside one of those two extremes. Hopefully that is just a sign of our times, and one day it will end so that people can appreciate this film for what it is: McNamara's "memoirs" edited by another person. It's not necessarily the truth, but not necessarily a revisionist version of history either. It's just McNamara talking about his life experiences in his own way, for his own reasons. And it's fascinating.

    This film is important in the sense that it records a unique perspective of 20th century history for subsequent generations that cannot comprehend the turmoil of the Cold War era from their own experience. It accomplishes this simply because McNamara was there, and was a major player in those events. We have plenty of liars in high places today who are regarded as honest, respectable leaders. We also have plenty of honest, respectable leaders who are constantly accused of being liars. Should we deny them all any opportunity to speak of their experience simply because someone, somewhere doesn't like them? McNamara was there, and for that reason alone anyone who complains about his "performance" here should just shut the hell up and let McNamara speak (unless of course these individuals also helped determine the course of world world events through the 20th century rather than sitting around drinking beer and watching NFL reruns on DVD).

    If you lived through the Cold War, and particularly the Vietnam era, you owe it to yourself to watch this film to help place those tumultuous times into perspective. If you reached the age of consciousness after these events, you owe it to yourself to watch this film because the man was there, and he is telling you about it. This is not some arrogant academic interpreting or criticizing the very real and difficult work that was done by others decades earlier. This is not a psychopathic talk show host threatening to turn off McNamara's microphone because he doesn't like what the man has to say. Don't read so much into it, it's just McNamara explaining things from his unique point of view, and you can learn a lot by just listening, without trying to believe him or disbelieve him.

    Despite this recommendation, I give the film a rating of 6/10 because the editing is simply atrocious. Yes, the editing won awards. Yes, some reviewers here have commented on how wonderful the editing is. Like McNamara himself, people will always disagree no matter the subject.

    But the fact remains that throughout the entire film the editor performed jump cuts in the middle of McNamara's sentences for no apparent reason at all, except to appear stylish. The result was so distracting that I found myself rewinding almost everything McNamara said so I could look away from the screen and actually listen to what he said without the visual discontinuity. Then I'd watch the excellent stock footage of World War II, JFK, LBJ, Vietnam, etc. until the next time McNamara spoke, when I had to begin rewinding all over again. This is one of the most frustrating interviews I've ever watched.

    This lousy editing created a work that is fascinating to listen to, but almost impossible to watch. Perfect for radio, or for a compact disk at half the price. But as a film it fails. I give it 6/10 because of the content, not the presentation.
  • I am a Vietnam-era Veteran. I watched "Fog of War" this evening and I was pretty much disgusted at how the ex-Secretary of Defense uses the media to portray him as a victim instead of the war monger he really was. Feelings? Regret? Compassion? All of this is being conveyed strictly in retrospect. He had one mission and one mission only; send as many young, innocent, healthy American men, and women, as you think it will take to win that war. A war that wasn't even a damn war; it was a "Military Conflict", from beginning to end. Look at the Vietnam Memorial. That's why it's designed the way it is. War was never declared. The Memorial is below ground because it's the only military conflict we ever lost, and we are ashamed of it. It's black, because it's the only black mark on our military history. It starts with one name, gradually builds higher and higher, below ground, to it's apex, then phases smaller and smaller, until the last name, still below ground; the same way we gradually phased in to the conflict and gradually phased out of the conflict. There was no declaration at the beginning or at the end. For McNamara to come out now with this "I was a pawn in the big picture" bull is a disgrace to all the military and civilian personnel who lost their lives in that "Conflict". He should be ashamed of himself for the part he played. In the bigger picture, he would be much better off, and I'm sure he would feel much better, to cleanse his soul by apologizing to the American public; in particular the families of those that didn't come home.

    These are my feelings, but I won't get the luxury of having them broadcast by "Encore" cable TV. What I will get the luxury of is going to bed at night with a clean conscience. Can McNamara do that? I don't think so.
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