When I got out of the theater Wednesday night after seeing Stop Loss, I was on fire with disappointment and ready to write the most scathing review known to man. Then I thought about it. And I thought about it some more. And I read a different opinion on A[tipp]ical Thoughts, which made me think even more.

I've decided not to actually review the movie. There is absolutely no escaping the fact that (in my opinion) it was poorly done. Much of the acting was unconvincing at best, and the whole story was predictable to the enth degree. I was so bitterly disappointed in this film because it is a topic I feel very strongly about, and I was hoping to see a little bit more put into the movie. A little more effort in the writing, a little more discretion in the casting, etc.

That being said, I mentioned to one of my friends that I had seen Stop Loss, and he asked, "what's that about?" I took a moment, stunned, then told him it was about stop-loss orders. "What's that?" he asked. And he was serious. Wow. I hope that my friend was an anomaly, and that most of the general public does know what a stop-loss is, but if not, at least this film will be opening a lot of eyes.

And there were definitely some very powerful scenes throughout the movie. Mostly towards the beginning - I don't remember anything really worth noting at the end - but they were there, and they were deeply affecting. It is difficult to watch a movie like that while there are still soldiers fighting in Iraq. You find yourself wondering, how much of this is Hollywood, and how much of this is really going on? And then, if you're me, you count yourself extremely fortunate that you don't have a brother, sister, father, mother, husband, or wife serving in our country's military right now. Then you feel like shit for thinking that and want to cry for the people who do have to fear for their loved one's lives every day. Then you think about all the Iraqi civilians and innocents who have died, and you wonder what it would be like to be them.

And then your mind starts going around and around, thinking about the man you've known since you were four who served over there, about your friend's soon-to-be husband who served over there, and you start thinking about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder...

And then you curl up into a little ball and you wonder when the hell we're going to get out of Iraq.