October 3, 1999 [Three Kings]
Still, the movie's funny--and bright; it almost hurt to look at the screen. But deserts and jungles are worse than anything (except maybe trenches in winter, I'd guess)--and oil tastes terrible, pushed down the throat while that calm, determined voice explains how he's not no father no more, my main man, and wonders how the inside of Mark Wahlberg's heart would feel if his daughter got bombed, and they both agree it'd be worse than death. That's one way to spot good soldiers: They know that death is not the worst. Not even losing--it's the losses, the little bars of gold inside the heart melted and dripping out in all that bright light like liquid sand.