Christian Bale makes friends and enemies alike in a sparsely-populated den of POWs at the onset of the Vietnam war. Undergoing another major transformation for the role, Bale lost a ton of weight to sell his emaciation, but as he's decked out in a big, baggy flight suit for the duration it's often difficult to see his worsening condition.

There's a strange mood that lingers around the fringes of this one, something to take us out of the moment. Maybe it's Bale's weirdly sunny disposition: even when he's being drug at gunpoint through the streets of a rough jungle village, he's smiling politely at the dumbstruck townsfolk. It could be the simple, businesslike way the prisoners plot and execute their escape, which seems far too easy. Even the relationships between the captives, carried out via hushed tones and late-night chats amongst shackles, have a floaty, dreamlike quality about them that doesn't seem to fit the seemingly-horrible situation.

As a picture it lacks conviction: that one moment for the audience to stand up and cheer, or to feel a sense of genuine tension about the cast's impending doom. I often felt removed from the action, as if I were reflecting upon it after the fact and glossing over the more grisly everyday challenges. It's nicely shot, with a genuine appreciation for the area's unique terrain and the helpless fury of its residents at a looming US intervention, but the story itself never moved me like I felt it should.