DIANNE BUTLER OUT OF THE BOX
IWONDER if I’mwasting my time talking about Generation Kill . . . probably. Still. I might just push on. Like some sort of tedious zealot with a pamphlet at your front door. Because I don’t think I can assume you’re already watching it. Or that you saw it when it was on Foxtel. Or that you’ve read Evan Wright’s book it’s based on. I don’t know anyone who’s watching this, but I’ve heard people talking about it. It’s by the same guys who did The Wire, is what they say about it.
It’s not big and bloated with stirring shots of the American flag in the background or the foreground or anywhere. The music isn’t rousing. It’s usually just the marines singing. Last week it was Tainted Love as they drove along. One of them had just been outlining his post-war plans to open a gay bar called The Golden Stream, whose key architectural feature would be a two-way mirror everybody would urinate against. Genius, you’ll agree, and really, it’s just formalising something a lot of footballers already do now anyway.
I’ve come to not even think of Generation Kill as a show about war. It’s not even very violent. People die, but not the ones who are supposed to. Like
Not violent: Alexander Skarsgard in Generation Kill