Opens October 6, 2000.

The war is Vietnam, but it might as well be any war in Tigerland, a convulsing and gnawing tour of Army boot camp, swamp-land style. It's a riveting, on-your-belly vantage that detonates with personal and philosophical explosions from other movies - the bureaucratic absurdities of Catch 22, the authoritarian sadism of Full Metal Jacket, the jarring randomness of death in The Deer Hunter. But unlike many films about war, Tigerland is in the Platoon league -- it doesn't seem like it's gleaned from an elitist moviemaker's vantage. It's no chess-piece set of pacifist philosophizing. Although these ricochets and careens from past-movie perceptions of war connect in Joel Schumacher's Tigerland, the film stands on its own as a full-front assault on the atrocity of young men fighting against young men.

The camp here is set in the jungle-like bogs of deep Louisiana where A Company must complete their basic training with a simulated "in Nam"-type finale, a final exam as it were, in which recruits battle each other in simulated war situations. It's like Vietnam, a snake-infested, booby-trapped terrain where little kids could be their assassins, old-peasant women could be their undoing - to survive, they are they are told to shoot at anything that moves. The Tigerland camp itself is a hellhole, as recruits are roused and thrown into mind-bending and body-beating situations with little or no sleep, and terrorized/commanded by brutal sergeants, preparing them for the onslaught they will face as "grunts" in the jungle.

The A Company, indicative of the "selective" nature of the draft, is largely made up of the underclass of American males, those who neither had the ability or the money to go to college and, in these pre-lottery days, found they had no other recourse but to enter the service. Many of these recruits were low-level intelligence guys or surely "No Senator's son," who didn't have the skills to fight the system or ability to go off to Oxford for a couple of years and dally as a Rhodes Scholar.

Tigerland's touchstone character is a cool, smart-ass named Rozz (Colin Farrel) who evidently watched a lot of Paul Newman movies of the time. Rozz is aloof, anti-authoritarian and honorable. As such, he's the company sergeants' worst nightmare. He's a wise ass and a lot smarter than many of his ranked superiors. Like Yossarian, Rozz sees contradictions and idiotic paradoxes in nearly everything the Army does. In essence, he takes the attitude that the Army itself is the enemy - it is likely to get him killed in an unpopular war, and he does everything he can to get drummed out. Despite his escapades and barbed antics, Rozz is unable to get sent home; in fact, the higher ups are especially intent on keeping him in and, inevitably, sending him to the most hellacious parts of the war front.

It's Rozz' battles with the system that are the brunt of Tigerland's drama, and his brazen intelligence and insouciant subversiveness are appealing. Even the drill sergeants are, at times, charmed by his insubordinations, but ultimately he makes them look bad and they, of course, have the full force of the U.S. Army at their disposal to mete out their retribution. In Rozz' finest moments, he shows some of his more unfortunate peers how to work the system and get out, and, for that, he wins the admiration of even his most gung-ho fellow boot campers. Despite his hatred of the arbitrary discipline of the military and the fact that he seems them as leading innocent young boys to mindless slaughter, Rozz ultimately assumes a mantel of leadership, in part goaded to fulfill his abilities as a natural-born leader.

No anti-war diatribe nor even a revisionist propaganda piece for peace, Tigerland is a riveting and haunting look into an inhumane experience, in which many well-meaning individuals are thrust and forced into a crazed battle for survival. They're sentenced to fight under rules and conditions that are both arbitrary and crazy. Storytellers Ross Klavan and Michael McGruther have fashioned a no-frills but highly explosive screenplay that takes us not only into the barracks but also into the mindsets of both the recruits and the sergeants. Through it all, we ourselves begin to feel sleep-deprived, edgy and combative, just like the young troops. At its most powerful, Tigerland simply drafts you into the deadly situation and although there are snatches of speechmaking and pointmaking, it's no cineaste's, theoretical rant. For their discipline in not laying it on thick and smug, both director Joel Schumacher and the screenwriters deserve medals.

Of the troops, Colin Farrel is a particular standout as the resolute and flip Rozz. While director Schumacher has long had a reputation for discovering new talent, Farrel is a rare find and his laid-back manner, coupled with his unwavering determination, is certain to augur rapid role advancement for him. Others also distinguish themselves, including Matthew Davis as a dewy recruit who has visions of writing a great tome about his wartime experiences.

With little wasted motion in the narrative, the visuals of Tigerland are particularly daunting. Much of the film is done from a subjective, platoon-level look from a handheld camera - we're thrown directly into these young guys boots. The sinister sounds of the jungle also curdle around our necks and throats, seeping up with tricky woodwind strains and jarring with bursts of explosions, never letting us for one moment feel easy.