Since the mid-twentieth century, America has engaged in almost innumerable “forever wars”. Its conflicts have had no clear state of resolution, fought against ideologies rather than opposing forces. In most cases, you needn’t look further than the name (the “War on Terror”, the “War on Drugs”). The most infamous remains Vietnam—a confused conflict fought under the pretence of destroying Communism. American troops, whose homes faced no danger, encountered a fierce resistance of home-turf defenders. U.S. resolve evaporated and its troops returned, broken; left to rot in financial ruin by their own apathetic home.
Spike Lee’s Da 5 Bloods cuts between the present-day reunion of an outfit of American soldiers in Ho Chi Minh City, and their experiences during the war. The platoon embarks, Wizard of Oz-style, on a journey to retrieve a stash of hidden gold. While serving, they witnessed a CIA carrier plane crash deep in the jungle. There it remains, entombing a lost payment from the CIA to citizens who opposed the Viet Cong.
Lee’s squadron comprises of black soldiers, and the director emphasises means of segregation the military employed throughout the Vietnam War. When Lee drops statistics into his story (like contrasting the U.S.’s black population of 11% with an above-30% rate of military service), it never feels hackneyed or inelegant. It instead scrutinises the way racism pervades society at large. More often than in direct, person-to-person instances, racism inhabits the structures of a country built on stolen land. Black Americans’ status as Vietnam cannon-fodder is one of its most discomforting aspects—and Lee’s talent is to directly confront truths that many filmmakers don’t have the stones to.
In one sequence, the platoon hears news of Dr Martin Luther King’s death while on service. They must all reckon with the fact they are laying their life down for a country which ascribes that life no value.
Within Da 5 Bloods, the outfit are perceived as an invasive, unwelcome force in both Vietnam and the U.S. alike. They revisit the site of a trauma inflicted on them by their country to find the site spits in their face. They are troops who paid the worthlessness of their own lives forward. When a Vietnamese child throws firecrackers at their feet to trigger their PTSD for amusement, it’s suggested that same child is avenging the loss of their leg after treading on a decades-old mine.
In Da 5 Bloods, trauma, both on a personal and national level, is inextricably entangled in itself. Vietnam and its invaders stew in a stasis which dooms them to repeat the mistakes of the past. This stasis defines Delroy Lindo’s impressive performance as Paul—a man who, in attempting to repress his damage, further damages himself and those around him. It’s that most paradoxical of male weaknesses: the desire to always maintain strength.
Da 5 Bloods is too complex and thought-provoking a film to summarise. It labours some points, glosses over others. But for a film spinning so many plates, it’s miraculous how few of them tumble. It's the work of a director who doesn't care if they are found disagreeable.
For years, Lee has been restricted by distributors too spineless to support black voices in cinema. But digital distribution models allow a far greater reach. It turns out that people outside Central London watch art films, too. Da 5 Bloods rocketed to the second-most watched film on the platform this week. Netflix’s confidence in filmmakers like Spike Lee and Martin Scorsese—in both cases ponying up for the biggest budgets of those directors’ careers—is encouraging in a world where cinema’s sole interest seems to have become pushing inoffensive family fare produced by Disney and its affiliates.
Film should focus and engage the mind, not leave it idle and half-distracted. Spike Lee is a vital and radical voice in cinema, and he’s finally been given the megaphone he deserved thirty years ago.
Da 5 Bloods is available for streaming on Netflix.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe