Don't Ask
The title character in The General's Daughter is dead. In fact, she's quite spectacularly dead, raped and strangled, laid out naked and bloody with her hands and feet tied to tent stakes on a bit of lawn in a military training compound outside Savannah, Georgia. The image gets your attention. It's grotesque and
horrifying. And it's recalled several times in the film, verbally and visually, to impress on you the threat that it supposedly poses for military, moral, sexual, and aesthetic orders.
Ironically, while the movie is portrayed as an aberration, the
work of deviant individuals, it's also the result of their
obsessions with those same orders. Simon (Con Air) West's new
film doesn't explore this connection, however: instead, it
adheres to summertime thriller conventions, marking all
characters and situations with exclamation points: The murder is
brutal! The victim has dark secrets! The bad guys are bad! No
surprises here, just melodramatic deliveries.
In this context, it's especially telling that the movie is named
for this character, and in such a peculiarly nameless way.
Captain Elisabeth Campbell (Leslie Stefanson) doesn't have much
of an identity here except as a daughter and a corpse. She's
introduced early on as a live person, sexy and self-assured in
her supercrisp uniform, even as she changes a tire for stranded
warrant officer (and undercover investigator) Paul Brenner (John
Travolta). This seeming chance meeting has one function, to show
that she's the designated dead meat and he's the designated
redeemer. Paul attempts to flirt with her that night on the road
and the next day in her office (he brings her a basket of "bath
products"). But his charms fall flat, which can only mean that
she won't survive much longer in this John Travolta vehicle.
The star draws from his usual bag of tricks: he sighs, smiles
that crinkly smile and seduces, he looks perplexed, he looks
determined and sincere. Paul's a mostly upright, sometimes
roguish American heroic type, honorable but determined, used to
getting his way. He's also got an unusual kind of power as a top
dog in the Army's Criminal Investigation Division, in that he can
arrest any military person anytime. This makes the brass feel
defensive. At the time of the murder, Paul happens to be on the
base tracking down illegal gun buyers (which is how he runs into
the victim to be). In this capacity, he deploys a cheesy Southern
drawl and endures standard action-picture explosions and
underwater fisticuffs, ostensibly establishing his rough-and-toughness,
but really seeming irrelevant to everything else.
This everything else involves the daughter's terrible past
(convenient videos show her s-m activities with every man on the
base) and a chain of command looking to keep it quiet. Asked to
take the case by his buddy, the base's watchdog Colonel Kent
(Timothy Hutton), Paul soon learns there are strings attached and
a time frame (the FBI moves in if he doesn't solve it in 36
hours). Kent's commander and Elisabeth's father is a mucky-muck
general called Fightin' Joe (James Cromwell, apparently going in
for paternal slimeball typecasting after LA Confidential). Used
to yes men including his devoted and long-serving assistant,
Colonel Fowler (Clarence Williams III, strangely moving, as ever) the general assumes that Paul will obediently collude in the
necessary cover-up, to "protect" the military.
The script, based on a best-selling novel by Nelson DeMille,
written by Christopher Bertolini and William Goldman,
unimaginatively pairs Paul with his fellow CID officer and ex-wife,
Sarah (Madeleine Stowe). Their mutual flirting and sniping
might pass for a relationship on another planet, but there's
little doubt that Sarah's central functions are to confirm for
viewers Paul's sexual appeal and to play professional tagalong,
carrying her notebook and watching Paul play mind games with
suspects and witnesses. One interview she misses concerns the
outclassed Paul trying to match wits with Elisabeth's crafty,
charismatic mentor, Colonel Moore (James Woods). The fact that
Paul misses a crucial, fairly obvious "secret" about Moore (he's
gay, but no one asks or "tells," outright) indicates the
investigator's inability to read people. Or maybe he just needs
to get out more.
Sarah and Paul do share the film's most intriguing and disturbing
scene. She's been attacked one foggy evening by an Army thug,
pathetically trying to scare her off the case, but more directly
(in terms of plot) setting up Paul's capacity for morally driven
vengeance (he'll break rules to get the job done: gggrrrrrrr).
The next morning, Sarah comes along for Paul's takedown of her
none-too-bright assailant (he wore his big old class ring during
the attack, and it's featured in several close-ups so you and
Sarah don't miss it). As she sees Paul toss the guy into
furniture and walls, her eyes grow wide and there's a slight
smile on her lips. She's repulsed but also obviously titillated,
enjoying the ruthless come-uppance on her behalf.
The brief scene isn't so much cathartic as it is suggestive. It
would seem that nice girl Sarah has a creepy voyeuristic streak
and that Paul definitely has a penchant for big bully violence.
Linking the investigators and the objects of their investigation,
via the pleasures they take in violence and the sexual excuses
they use, the scene also links the protagonists with their
audience, by asking you to root for avenger Paul and sympathize
with damsel Sarah.
For all its thrilling play with blame and sex and violence, the
movie holds to this idea of order for its own sake. Paul might
seem like a contemporary hero, in that he's got his own issues
with betrayal and desire, not to mention dealing with
"alternative" sexualities. But old-fashioned beliefs and
structures prevail, especially those based in military ethics and
gendered codes of conduct. The movie is about what it means to be
a man. It seems to indict the bad guys for obsessing over career
advancement, controlling all outcomes (and people), and avoiding
all things feminine, like being raped or admitting being raped.
But it doesn't find anything different in Paul. Upset by the
truth he seeks so arduously, he responds like a standard movie
man.