IIn retrospect, it is clear why America’s imperial project in Vietnam failed in the 1960s: you cannot win a war when your army does not want to fight. In the desperate need to send soldiers into battle, instituting military enlistment seemed to be the only option for the United States military, when in reality that choice was yet another major ruin.
Gathering thousands of men and forcing them to embark for fear of being arrested, instead of their own ideological volition, created a rebel fighting force in conflict with itself, from discouraged to resentful to frankly insubordinate. Many of the ordinary guys who were not yet enlisting against their will soon joined the internal counter-cause after realizing that they had been made pawns in a conflict waged by obscure financial imperatives, rather than any claim to justice. Dying face down in a rice field defending capitalism simply did not have the noble brilliance of defending everything that was right against the Nazi cowards; The Americans understood Vietnam as the country’s first “bad war”, in which the supposed protagonists of the West came to suspect that they could be the villains.
The FTA Show materialized as the inevitable consequence of this internal and external upheaval. Led by Jane Fonda and Donald Sutherland with the support of activist folk musicians like Len Chandler, the extravagance of anti-USO variety channeled the bitterness and frustration of the moment into amusing subversive protests. (The title melody clarifies the four-letter expletives addressed to the army.) A 1972 documentary that was rarely aired under the truncated FTA title followed its tour of active bases from Hawaii to the Philippines and Japan, each presentation packed to the rafters with disappointments. Soldiers eager to hear an alternative to the rah-rah party line of their “jailers”, as Fonda joked. The film spent only a week in theaters before quietly disappearing from programming; director Francine Parker said the distributor, American International Pictures, backed off on receiving a direct call from the White House. But now, a brand new 4K restoration has finally received a public release, sounding a once evasive challenge call for everyone to hear.
The disorganized group of hippies, radicals and cheerful pranksters sought to turn Bob Hope’s “political vaudeville” upside down with satirical songs and skits undermining the chain of command. Recruits often detested their commanders barking orders, a scorn easily translated into MAD Magazine-style jokes. In a comic interstitial, a general asks one of his soldiers for 25 cents, who offers it with a “Sure!” Informal The older soldier scolds his subordinate for familiarity and asks for the coin again, this time receiving a warm “No, sir!” In this case, as in many others, the spirit of disobedience compensates for the somewhat mild mood, not as loud as Laugh-In, but ten times more dangerous. A musical number like Nothing Could Be Finer Than to Be in Indochina! it is more stimulating than anything else, shouting what many considered unspeakable from the top of the singer’s lungs.
Extensive segments of interviews reinforce the bold ideology with testimonies from men on the ground and on both sides of the conflict. Among the most controversial elements was an introductory title card stating that the film was produced in cooperation not only with soldiers, but also with their “friends” whose “land they currently occupy”. The film crew had no problem finding Americans and Japanese united in their desire for the armed forces to leave Okinawa and leave the island, or Filipino protesters articulating a common desire with soldiers to take them home. The military seems to alienate its people on all personal lines, be it race (black soldiers discuss the discrimination they face between their own ranks and the hypocrisy of fighting for a country that doesn’t give a damn about them), gender (Fonda’s a Música I ‘ m Tired of Bastards Fuckin ‘Over Me evokes sexism and harassment), or class (volunteers from poor communities realize they are risking their lives to make rich men richer).
The few serious moments – Sutherland reading an excerpt from Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo, musicians from Okinawa singing darkly in their native language – emphasize that the agitated show aspired to more than simple provocation. The opposition came from a place of compassion, a stance not of hatred for the soldiers themselves, but for the instituted powers, forcing them to act against their own interests. The film makes sense of a dissonance that compelled conservatives of the time to wonder why “Hanoi Jane” simply wouldn’t leave America, if she hated them so much. In retrospect 20/20, we can see that it was specifically because she and her companions loved the country that they devoted their energies and risked their reputations to improve it, their criticisms were the supreme act of patriotism.