The road to hell -- and half-baked movies -- is paved with good intentions. Director Kimberly Peirce, who lit up the screen with her 1999 transgender-centric debut Boys Don't Cry, tackles an equally confrontational topic (the ongoing war in Iraq) with her sophomore effort, the righteously angry, maddeningly executed Stop-Loss. She's hampered in no small part by two factors: The stilted, awkward work turned in by her lead, Ryan Phillippe and the insistence on turning otherwise engaging characters into mouthpieces for anti-war editorials. That said, Peirce manages a few moments of breathtaking clarity that, for those willing to wade through the rough spots, are worth spending some time with this otherwise frustrating film.

Stop-Loss never recovers from the brilliant opening moments -- viewers are plunged into ground-level chaos as young men, United States soldiers all, deal with a messy, bloody and rapidly escalating situation on the deadly streets of Baghdad. Soon, we're introduced to Brandon King (Phillippe), a beloved golden boy from the fictional Texas town of Brazos, as he returns from a grueling tour of duty in Baghdad, along with his childhood pals Steve Shriver (Channing Tatum) and Tommy Burgess (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). Hailed as conquering heroes, the men struggle to adjust to civilian life, with sudden bursts of violence and depression making these once-happy men shadows of their former selves.

But just as Brandon is prepared to leave the Army behind him, he receives his "stop-loss" orders, effectively canceling his plans to begin a new life and forcing him to report for another tour of duty in Iraq, a place and a war he's beginning to think less and less of. (For the unfamiliar, a "stop-loss" order effectively extends a service member contract against their will for an indefinite period, as the service sees fit.) Steve and, to a lesser degree, Tommy both don't hesitate in encouraging Brandon to stick it out, but with help from Steve's estranged fiancee Michelle (Abbie Cornish), Brandon goes AWOL, scrambling to find answers to his many questions.

It cannot be overemphasized -- Peirce has the raw material for a compelling, timely film in her possession; she simply can't muster the conviction to see it through. (I'd rip into the film's closing moments, but doing so would offer monster spoilers. Suffice to say, it's a colossal cop-out and one wonders if Peirce herself lost some resolve.) After the searing opening sequence in Iraq, Stop-Loss devolves into heated exchanges that aren't discussion between characters but rather the airing of opposing views that feels didactic and wooden. The human toll a war exacts -- soldiers adrift at home, suffering from PTSD and aching for a sense of purpose -- is powerful, poignant stuff that's fueled other great works of art. But Stop-Loss becomes too enamored of its politics to focus on the personal. What's worse, the cast -- aside from Phillippe, that is -- shines in their respective roles, notably Tatum, whose conflicted, duty-bound Steve is one of the lone reasons to seek this troubled film out.

As the bloody, controversial war in Iraq continues its inexorable march into history, filmmakers are becoming increasingly emboldened to explore the conflict's impact and legacy. And while audiences are slow to embrace the range of cinematic offerings tackling the thorny subject, it's heartening to see creative types stepping further and further out onto the proverbial ledge, providing some artistic context for these confusing, complicated times.

The Video:

Presented in its original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1, this anamorphic widescreen transfer is very crisp, well-saturated and full of detail, befitting a recently filmed and released production. The only hiccups, inherent in the source material, are the handful of crudely shot videos sprinkled throughout the film and intentionally presented as glitchy, washed out images.

The Dolby Digital 5.1 track gets to provide the full spectrum of sound -- from full-on street battles in Iraq to emotion-choked speeches in the silent night -- and does so without a single discernible flaw. The action sequences pack a punch without overwhelming dialogue or score, just as the more intimate scenes are well-balanced with no distortion or drop-out evident. Optional Spanish and French Dolby Digital 5.1 tracks are included, as are optional English, French and Spanish subtitles.

Peirce and co-writer Mark Richard sit for a commentary track, which makes the final product all the more painful, simply because it highlights the filmmakers' intentions and reveals how they fell short. (Richard reveals the film went through an astonishing 65 drafts!) An interesting listen, nonetheless. The 20 minute, 56 second featurette "The Making of 'Stop-Loss'" (presented in anamorphic widescreen) goes a bit deeper, while the 10 minute, one second featurette "A Day in Boot Camp" (presented in anamorphic widescreen) reveals what the actors underwent in the name of verisimilitude. Eleven deleted scenes (presented in non-anamorphic widescreen) are playable separately or all together for an aggregate of 18 minutes, 33 seconds with optional commentary from Peirce. Previews for American Teen, The Ruins, Star Trek, Iron Man and Shine a Light (all presented in non-anamorphic widescreen) complete the disc.

The road to hell -- and half-baked movies -- is paved with good intentions. Director Kimberly Peirce, who lit up the screen with her 1999 transgender-centric debut Boys Don't Cry, tackles an equally confrontational topic (the ongoing war in Iraq) with her sophomore effort, the righteously angry, maddeningly executed Stop-Loss. She's hampered in no small part by two factors: The stilted, awkward work turned in by her lead, Ryan Phillippe and the insistence on turning otherwise engaging characters into mouthpieces for anti-war editorials. That said, Peirce manages a few moments of breathtaking clarity that, for those willing to wade through the rough spots, are worth spending some time with this otherwise frustrating film. Rent it.