A Private War (2018)Matthew Heineman’s A Private War is an earthy biopic about venerable war correspondent Marie Colvin. Rosamund Pike plays the award-winning Sunday Times journalist as we follow her career reporting from war zones across the world until her final assignment in Homs, Syria in February 2012, where she was killed in artillery fire alongside French photographer Rémi Ochlik.
Pike excels as the steely Colvin, who lost an eye in a rocket-propelled grenade attack while reporting from Sri Lanka in 2001, an event depicted in Heineman’s film. The psychological consequences of Colvin’s work are explored too, with the effects of decades spent as a war reporter taking its toll via her post-traumatic stress disorder and alcohol issues.
Heineman is no stranger to conflict zones or dangerous assignments himself, having made Cartel Land (2015) about the Mexican drug wars and City of Ghosts (2017), a film about the undercover life of Syrian activist group Raqqa Is Being Slaughtered Silently after ISIS moved into their country in 2014.
We met the American director to discuss Colvin, journalism and making films in perilous circumstances.
Why did you choose this story as your first non-documentary film?
I think it chose me. I never had any intention of making narrative film. I never went to film school; I have no business making films to begin with. But I made Cartel Land and, afterwards, for whatever reason, people in LA thought I should be making narrative films. I got sent an early draft of this script, and it spoke to me in such a profound way. It felt like a story that I had to tell.
I deeply empathised with Marie’s desire to put a human face to conflicts, which is something that I’ve tried to do. I deeply empathise with that perverse desire to go to conflict zones to cover these stories. And then also, similarly, to come home and have those thoughts and images linger with you.
It felt like a very timely film to make. The film is not just an homage to Marie, but an homage to journalism, at a time when journalism is under attack. And to people who are out there fighting for the truth, and shedding light on dark corners of the world.
Journalism’s under attack in two senses at the moment: aside from life-threatening situations reporting in conflict zones there’s journalists getting killed, even in America. Have you got any thoughts on that?
I think it’s tragic that journalists and journalism are being demonised and vilified, at least in my country, and, in the worst cases, are targeted and killed, in the case of [murdered Saudi journalist] Jamal Khashoggi and others. Journalism is the bedrock of a free and independent society, so I think it’s quite sad, what’s been happening.
When Marie started her career, the dangers of being a war correspondent were just that, of being at war. Of being shot at, of being hit by a bomb or the dangers of whoever she’s embedded with. The idea of being targeted for doing her job wasn’t really in the lexicon of options. There’s been a fair amount of evidence to show that she was specifically targeted by the Assad regime, that they were tracking her all the way from Beirut, that there was a mole within the media centre.
This has all come out through a lawsuit that her sister had filed against the Assad regime. That after her report with Anderson Cooper, she was targeted and ultimately killed for just speaking out. Sadly, since then, we’ve seen countless examples of journalists being targeted and killed just for reporting on the truth.
Would you have any interest in making a film that wasn’t based on something in real life?
I don’t know, maybe. Depends on the story, but for now, no. I think I want to keep making hyperreal films. Films that are based in some element of truth, have some relevance to the world that we’re living in. I’ve nothing against escapist films or franchise films or anything like that, but it’s just not what fascinates me or moves me or drives me. Right now, I can’t imagine doing that. I’m sure you’ll quote me in 10 years as I’m making Avengers 47, but for now this is what I’m into.
What were the difficulties in bringing this particular story to the screen?
There were so many difficulties. It’s the same with any film, really. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a $5,000 film or a $15m film. When you’re making a doc, you’re cognisant of the budget. But when I’m in the middle of a meth lab in the middle of Mexico [as in Cartel Land], I’m not worrying about the budget, I’m worrying about other things. If I’m in the middle of a shoot out or if I’m going to put this suicidal patient in an emergency room, or whether I’m in a safe house with people escaping ISIS, I’m not thinking about money.
Marie Colvin went to all sorts of extremes to get the story and tell the world. She put her life on the line and eventually lost it because of her desire to tell the story and get the news out there. What do you think of her choice in doing that?
That’s a lot of what the film is about. For me it’s a psychological thriller, trying to examine what pushes somebody to go to the most dangerous places on Earth to cover these stories and then the effects that that had on her. She didn’t have to do this. She chose to do it.
There were many signs, many signposts along the way, telling her to stop. By the end of her life she was suffering immensely from the wars that she covered. That manifested in PTSD and alcoholism and other things, and every neon sign in the world was saying “Stop. Stop. Stop.” But she kept going.
She really felt compelled to go to these places to tell stories that people weren’t telling. To bear witness to the suffering of people caught in the middle of these geopolitical conflicts. To humanise these issues that people so often keep at arm’s length.
What is it about the Middle East in general that interests you as a filmmaker?
It wasn’t necessarily a purposeful thing, per se. I always grow attached to the people that I film with. I have an enormous amount of empathy for the characters that I followed in City of Ghosts and the tragedy that’s happened to their country. That’s a big reason why I wanted to tell this story, and that’s one of the tragedies of A Private War as well, that she died covering this conflict in 2012 that has persisted until today. Half a million civilians have been killed since then. Assad is still in power, and there’s no real end in sight.
You’ve tackled drug cartels, Syria and American health care — huge, important sociopolitical topics. Is there something specific that attracts you to these big, chewy subjects?
I want to make films that are relevant. I want to make films that provoke me and challenge me, confound me. I also love the challenge of taking a topic that’s in the zeitgeist, that is in people’s minds, where they come to it with a set of preconceived notions, and trying to flip those and humanise these issues.
With these big topics, it’s so easy to get caught up in stats and headlines. I really try to find human stories to put a human face to it all, and that’s what excites me.
