O Captain!

If the events of Sept. 11, 2001 taught people anything, it’s that acts of bravery and selflessness can arise anywhere, un- bidden, without fan- fare. So many people gave of themselves on that horror-filled day, and their generosity and spirit gave the lie to emptiness, cynicism and despair. People just persevered. Yet when courage is depicted in the

movies, especially real-life courage, it comes under a critical microscope, simply because it has been blown up to big- screen proportions.

Director Paul Greengrass is no stranger to this phenomenon. His film Flight 93 traced the final hours of the third com- mercial flight hijacked by terrorists on 9/11; its passengers prevented the plane from heading to the White House, over- coming the hijackers and forcing the flight to crash into the ground. People griped about that true-to-life film, just as they griped about Argo, saying director Ben Affleck played loose with the facts.

Get your own

Now they’re griping about Captain Phillips, the new film by Greengrass, which portrays what happened when a commercial cargo ship was beset by Somali pirates in 2009. It’s based on a true story, and Tom Hanks gives it his Oscar-level best playing Captain Richard Phillips, operator of the MV Maersk Alabama. The Alabama is delivering NATO relief supplies and food to war-ravaged Somalia, but early scenes show this is a doomed cause, because pirates are being driven to kidnap sailors for ransom by inexhaustibly greedy Somali warlords. This may simplify the truth, but it sets the story in motion, as desperate Somali pirate Abduwali Muse (Barkhad Abdi) takes charge of a speedboat full of armed men, set on snaring another passing cargo ship.

Hanks plays Phillips as the usual de- cent, humane sort called to duty. (It’s nice to see him play a straight dramatic role for a change.) He is paired off against the Somali captain, Muse, a sharp, English- speaking boat operator who calls the shots when he and his armed men take over the Alabama off Somalia’s waters. Abdi (who my wife described as a bit like a Somalian Chris Rock), is smart and slick, or at least thinks he is. Captain Phillips, for his part, keeps his wits about him — he bluffs that a Navy ship is in nearby waters, scaring off one of the pirate speedboats — and he has a gift for gab. This trait will come in handy later when he is waylaid by Muse and his ever-dwindling crew.

This is a gripping drama, and there’s plenty of time along the way while viewing Captain Phillips to second-guess things. Like, one wonders why commercial vessels don’t simply hire armed security men to fend off roving pirates; well, many companies won’t allow it due to insurance complications, so the large vessels are forced to rely on water cannons and their own version of “911” — calling the Coast Guard and Navy for backup assistance. One might wish for a Die Hard-type moment to save the day in Captain Phillips, but the movie sticks closer to the truth: unarmed men are not about to grapple with Somali pirates wielding submachine guns; dying isn’t in their contract, and it’s safer to hide in the engine room, as the Alabama crew were instructed to do.

Yet Greengrass draws intense drama from the crisis as it unfolds. Phillips offers the pirates $30,000 in cash from the ship’s safe, asking them to take it and leave; they smell a bigger payoff, and stick around to collect hostages. “The last ship I took,” brags Muse, “I got $6 mil- lion” from insurance companies eager to retrieve hostages. “Then why are you still doing this?” Phillips asks him. Clearly, Muse and the pirates are in a no-win situation: no matter how much money they pay over to Somali warlords, it’s never enough to buy their freedom.

This sub-story could have been developed in greater depth, but as its title suggests, Captain Phillips means to focus on the commander’s actions during a desperate situation.

It’s perhaps a spoiler to re- veal that Phillips does a very brave thing in boarding the pirates’ escape boat — in effect saving his crew by offering himself as a hostage. But it’s not like Hanks’ character is without shades or dimensions. His crew are none too happy about going through pirate- infested waters (though it is the job they signed on to do for ample pay); Phillips is shown ignoring requests from the crew to head further out to sea, claiming that there are just as many pirate crews roaming 600 miles out as 300 miles out. He’s not perfect, but when the crisis hits, he acts as closely to the manual as possible to resolve it.

Phillips joining the pirates creates a bigger problem: how to free him without causing an international embarrassment for the Obama White House. What begins as a ramshackle pirate operation, run by a skinny, nervy bagman, becomes a whole bigger proposition as three US naval vessels arrive, along with a team of Navy SEALS, to end the standoff.

There are those — specifically the crew of the Alabama still involved in a lawsuit against Phillips and the ship- ping company — who bristle at Hanks’ depiction of their captain as a bona fide hero. But Greengrass stands by his movie: “The facts are clear. Captain Phillips’ ship was at- tacked, and the ship and the crew and its cargo made it safely to port with no injuries or loss of life. Also, the fact is that Captain Phillips went into the lifeboat in order to ensure the safety of his crew, because thereby he insured the pirates left the ship. The fact is, Captain Phillips then endured a five-day ordeal at the hands of his kidnappers. That’s the story we told, and it’s an accurate one.”

It doesn’t matter whether you call him a hero or not. The facts are laid out on the table. And Captain Phillips makes for excellent drama.