Staring at an actual goat for an hour and a half would have been more entertaining than watching “The Men Who Stare at Goats.”
The movie included some big name actors, but was lacking to say the least. It didn’t even meet the low expectations I had for it when I walked into the theater.
The plot follows “Bob Wilton,” played by Ewan McGregor, as he attempts to prove himself as a reporter in the Middle East after his wife leaves him. In Kuwait, he eventually runs into “Lyn Cassady,” played by George Clooney, a member of the special psychic operations unit of the U.S. military called the New Earth Army.
Cassady takes Wilton with him into Iraq and the rest of the movie progresses – or digresses – with the two getting stranded then kidnapped in the desert. All the while flashbacks of the New Earth Army’s history add to the absurd story.
The New Earth Army, a brainchild of Vietnam veteran “Bill Django,” played by Jeff Bridges, focuses on trying to prevent wars through training men to be “Jedi Warriors.” Soldiers learn to psychically locate things, read thoughts and dissipate clouds, among other things. After Django loses command, Cassady psychically kills a goat and thereafter thinks he brought a curse upon the unit.
Eventually Wilton and Cassady find their way into PSIC, a private psychic operation stationed in Iraq. It’s the newest embodiment of the New Earth Army run by Cassady’s old military nemesis “Larry Hooper,” played by Kevin Spacey. At the new base Cassady is reunited with his old commander Django.
From there the movie devolves into a reflection on crushed dreams and attempting to make things right. The absurdity reaches its peak when Django and Wilton decide to take matters into their own hands and remedy the problems of PSIC. The punch line is really too good to spoil here and I’d hate to ruin one of the only funny moments of the movie.
The movie’s all-star cast of Clooney, Spacey, McGregor and Bridges was ultimately disappointing. With capable actors like that, how could things go wrong?
I’d say it was around the time Clooney came on screen. His character walked the fine line between psychotic and comedic in the worst ways. There were times I wanted to feel sorry for him, but then he would say a less-than-moving line. He was always on the cusp of creating a convincing character and a touching moment, but after one eye bulge too many, I just got bored again.
When the best acting in the movie comes from Bridges, who plays a cracked out hippie who wasn’t even the main character, there’s a problem. I found myself being drawn more into Django’s chaotic dream than Wilton’s search for redemption and enlightenment.
If this was supposed to be a comedy, then I missed something. I only laughed out loud twice during the duration of this death march called a movie. I walked away from the theater thinking the last part of the movie was withheld.
I couldn’t believe the storyline wasn’t stronger. It was almost like watching “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” I know I sat in a theater, I know I watched something — I’m just not sure if it should be called a movie.
Bianca Hernandez can be reached at
bhernandez@theorion.com
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