Good Morning, Vietnam, by Albert W. Vogt III

Today’s choice of film, Good Morning, Vietnam (1987), was inspired by the fact that it is Memorial Day.  In case you are not aware, we celebrate this date as the official beginning of the American Armed Forces.  Today’s is a significant milestone as it has been 250 years of armed men and women defending the United States of America.  I felt that could not pass without some recognition, though this might not be the totally patriotic option, at least at face value.  It is a story of dissent, which is actually the story of the American Revolution.  Had the colonies not dissented against their treatment by the British Crown and government, things might look a little different today.  It may also seem strange for a Catholic reviewer to be speaking positively about such a movie.  Contrary to popular belief, Catholicism is not a religion of conformity.  God is bigger than however we conceive of Him, and while the Church provides a wonderful structure in which to explore the Divine, even the pope will admit to its limits.  It is those who see the structure as all that are the villains.  That was true in 1775, during the Vietnam War, when Pope Francis became the Roman pontiff, and it remains so today.

It is apropos to say Good Morning, Vietnam, because we begin just as the conflict in the eponymous country is drawing greater attention from the United States.  Since wars have been fought, there has always been an effort to keep up the esprit de corps of the men at arms with various forms of entertainment.  In 1965, this means radio broadcasting by the American Armed Forces.  That which is being aired to the troops in Southeast Asia has been controlled by people, namely Seargent Major Phillip Dickerson (J. T. Walsh) and Lieutenant Steven Hauk (Bruno Kirby), who believe in censorship and “good, clean fun.”  Their commanding officer, General Taylor (Noble Willingham), sees that their approach to helping the fighting men is not working.  Thus, he brings in Airman Second Class Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams), a disc jockey (DJ) he had heard while passing through an American base on Crete.  Seargent Major Dickerson and Lieutenant Hauk strongly object, thinking Airman Cronauer will be a bad influence.  At this point, though, I need to give some context.  The character Williams played is a real-life person, but that is where the comparisons begin and end.  I am giving you this information so that you have a sense of the Airman Cronauer of the movie.  If you are at all familiar with Williams’ comedy, then you have the idea.  Hence, he gets on the radio on his first day and begins telling the kinds of jokes and playing the type of music about which he had been warned.  After his first broadcast, he and the rest of the station staff are lectured by Lieutenant Hauk about what constitutes correct radio procedure in his world.  The officer’s admonitions are listened to, but then ignored the next time Airman Cronauer is on the air.  Airman Cronauer’s antics lead to Sergeant Major Dickerson and Lieutenant Hauk going to General Taylor with complaints.  The general brusquely rebuffs them, telling them that he thinks Airman Cronauer is funny and dropping the matter.  When Airman Cronauer is not annoying his bosses, he is ingratiating himself to the Saigon locals.  Initially, his main concern is finding a Vietnamese lady.  While out with a co-worker, Private Edward Garlick (Forest Whitaker), he spots Trinh (Chintara Sukapatana).  His approaches to her are turned down, being taken for another American soldier looking for ungentlemanly pursuits, which is probably accurate.  Nonetheless, he remains persistent, following her to an English language class being taught by an American officer.  Airman Cronauer bribes his way into becoming the teacher in order to get to know her, but finds that her brother, Tuan (Tung Thanh Tran), is there, too.  Tuan is not keen on anyone making overtures to his sister, especially an American.  Despite Airman Cronauer’s lack of success with Trinh, he decides to continue with his instruction when he is not doing radio.  Eventually, Airman Cronauer wins over Tuan, which comes in handy when the young Vietnamese man comes to get Airman Cronauer at the bar in order to rendezvous with Trinh.  Moments after he steps out of the establishment, it explodes.  The devastation he witnesses has an effect on him.  Upon returning to the station, he sees the headline of the incident come across the news wire, but he is banned from mentioning it on the airwaves.  He does so anyway, and this time Sergeant Major Dickerson and Lieutenant Hauk make sure that General Taylor cannot ignore the insubordination.  Airman Cronauer is suspended, and the thoroughly unfunny Lieutenant Hauk takes over.  The latter is completely unaware of his lack of talent, but it comes to his attention through an overwhelmingly negative listener response.  Meanwhile, Airman Cronauer uses his free time to try to at least cement a friendship with Trinh, even visiting her village with Tuan.  Despite the overture, she says a relationship is not possible.  The turn of events has Airman Cronauer depressed, so much so that he is not going to return to the air despite General Taylor requesting it.  It takes Private Garlick forcing Airman Cronauer to perform live to a group of soldiers to convince him that his place is on the radio.  Predictably, Sergeant Major Dickerson and Lieutenant Hauk are not happy.  When orders come down for Airman Cronauer to interview troops on the frontline, Sergeant Major Dickerson arranges for Airman Cronauer to be transported there through enemy territory.  With Private Garlick driving, Airman Cronauer’s jeep hits a landman and they roll off the road.  Luckily, they are relatively unscathed, but they are in Viet-Cong territory.  Word gets back to Saigon of the incident, and it is Tuan that comes to rescue them.  However, Airman Cronauer is summoned once more by Sergeant Major Dickerson, who says that the DJ is being discharged and forced to leave the country.  The reason Airman Cronauer is given is because Tuan is actually a Viet-Cong spy.  Airman Corman is hurt, and before he leaves there is a fiery exchange with Tuan.  With that, Airman Cronauer’s career in Vietnam comes to a close, as does the film.

There are two ways of looking at the ending of Good Morning, Vietnam.  There is the hurt caused by Tuan’s betrayal, and there is the good that Airman Cronauer does.  Tuan’s response to Airman Cronauer’s exasperated question as to why the young man would help the enemy is logical: Tuan points out that it is the American who are the enemy.  He is not wrong.  There is nothing triumphant about war.  The Church teaches this, and we can see the other side of it in different shots of warfare interspersed throughout the film while Airman Cronauer plays songs.  He also points out that the Americans are trying to help Vietnam.  To use the example from the introduction, the British thought the same thing about the Colonies, and they actually had a large amount of support from people living in North America.  Perspective, though, says a lot.  Having the right intentions is important, and this best describes Airman Cronauer.  I am speaking mainly to his dissenting nature, which he sees as his need to be allowed to tell the truth.  Similar figures have been celebrated in the Church.  The first one to come to mind is St. Francis of Assisi, the founder of the Franciscan Order.  He practiced a radical form of poverty that was at odds with the way the Church operated in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.  While many monasteries pursued austere but comfortable existences, St. Francis opted to walk with the poor, which he saw as being more Christ-like.  Another who comes to mind is St. Joan of Arc.  Not only did she go against gender norms of her time, but she was also put to death by Church officials.  It should be noted that these two were exonerated, St. Francis in his own lifetime.  As for St. Joan, the clerics who condemned her were in the employ of the English, her native France’s enemies, and her trial was declared null and void twenty-five years after her execution.  As for Airman Cronauer, though he is forced to leave, he does so with the love of his co-workers, students, and the soldiers he entertained.

Along these same lines, Trinh sums it up at the end of Good Morning, Vietnam when she offers her sympathy for Airman Cronauer that things did not work out as he hoped.  Yet, again, he is given a sendoff that suggests he did something positive.  Bad things happen, like war, but good things can come out of it.  We see it in this movie, in this country, and in the Church.  Thus, I hope you see this movie and are encourage to speak the truth.  You will be a better person for it.

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