"Stop Loss": War drama enlists squad of skillful actors

In "Boys Don't Cry," her remarkable 1999 debut film, writer/director Kimberly Peirce proved herself a master at depicting small-town longing and a young person's railing against injustice, creating a very specific love story that nonetheless felt universal. Nine years later, she's returned with a very different kind of story, but a similar feel — and with another troupe of fine young actors who raise the uneven but heartfelt "Stop-Loss" above the ranks of many other recent Iraq war features.

Brandon (Ryan Phillippe) is a young soldier who has completed his tour of duty in Iraq and returns home to his small Texas town, scarred but ready to begin life again. When he is "stop-lossed" (the military policy through which an enlistment can be indefinitely extended) and told he must return to Iraq, his plans are shattered. Angry and betrayed, he goes on the run, aided by his longtime friend Michele (Abbie Cornish) and pursued by his best friend and fellow soldier Steve (Channing Tatum). "This isn't who we are," says Steve, horrified by his friend's behavior. "We're soldiers. We stand for something."

Peirce (inspired to create this story when her own brother enlisted after 9/11) and co-writer Mark Richard are precise in their shaping of Brandon as a good and patriotic soldier whose issues are not so much with the war as with the policy. He's fulfilled his end of the bargain and returned home miraculously whole; why can't the government live up to its promise? A brisk officer informs him that the stop-loss policy is in effect in times of war. "The president says the war is over," says Brandon; it is, quite possibly, the first time he's ever contradicted a man in uniform.

Taking place mostly over a series of dark nights, "Stop-Loss" at times struggles to keep its narrative momentum; a repeated theme of soldier-made videos from the war front, accompanied by rock music, seems to interrupt the drama rather than heighten it. But the characters, enacted by a skillful young cast, get under your skin. Phillippe tends to be one of those actors who's either very good or not good at all; here he carries the movie with ease, slipping into a soft Texas accent and letting us see Brandon's conflict between being brave and being dutiful. Cornish, as Michele, has the kind of languid, bored prettiness Chloë Sevigny employed in "Boys Don't Cry." Her role is crucial: She symbolizes what Brandon must leave behind, and though she's given little personality in the screenplay, Cornish makes her a warm and urgent presence.

The ending of "Stop-Loss" is unsatisfying yet inevitable; no other resolution would make sense. It's a film that blazes with passion for its subject, even as it doesn't always know what to do with its characters. Though it's no "Boys Don't Cry" (and the recent box-office track record for Iraq war films indicates that it may not be around for long), there's something about "Stop-Loss" that haunts you: Peirce has an uncanny way of catching the fierce light in her actors' eyes.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com