"C-" Rating by Robert W. Hammerle

When I first saw the previews for Spike Lee's "Miracle at St. Anna," I was tremendously intrigued. We see an African American bank teller kill an ethnic customer without apparent provocation. Visited by a reporter in jail, he suddenly responds to repeated questioning concerning his motivation with the haunting statement, "I know."

What does he know? What is a priceless artifact, missing since War World II, doing tucked away in a bag in his modest apartment? As the previews proceeded to show pictures of battles being fought in Italy during World War II, I remember looking at my Saudi exchange student, "Z," and telling him, "I can't wait to see this movie."

And it is for that very reason that it saddens me to say that the answer to the riddle, "I know," is tragically, "not much." While I certainly would not suggest that this movie lacks some fine moments, it is undeniably overblown, overstuffed and as pretentious as it's unnecessary length of two hours and forty minutes.

When all is said and done, "Miracle at St. Anna" loses focus principally because it can't decide what type of picture it is suppose to be. As a war picture, it tells the story of the Buffalo Soldiers, segregated units of black soldiers fighting in the American Army in World War II during the Italian campaign against the Germans. As a result of one of those twists of fate that occurs in combat, four soldiers get trapped behind enemy lines and end up seeking safe haven in a small Italian village.

Regrettably, with the exception of the final battle sequence, the war scenes are rarely convincing. And even worse, the four stranded Buffalo soldiers are little more than one-dimensional stereotypes.

Derek Luke plays Sergeant Stamps, the coolheaded leader that you can always count on to do and say the right thing. Michael Ealy plays Sergeant Bishop Cummings, the hot-blooded member of the quartet who is alternately angry with American society and in perpetual heat. Laz Alonso plays Corporal Negron, the levelheaded sidekick who officiates all of the ongoing personal disputes of the group.

Finally, there is Omar Benson Miller, who plays Private Sam Train as if he is trying to impersonate the character Lennie from Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men" (1992). Like Lennie, Private Train is a slow but gentle giant who is constantly lugging around the head of some ancient Greek statue for good luck. Furthermore, he stumbles across a small boy clearly in shock, and proceeds to keep the child with him for safekeeping.

However, as shallow as these characters are, the great failing of Lee's movie is his portrayal of the white commanders of the black soldiers as ranting, screaming racists. It is so heavy-handed as to be reminiscent of the scabrous treatment of Japanese soldiers in Hollywood war pictures in the 1940's. As then, the lack of any level of subtlety is so off putting that it literally becomes offensive.

While I appreciate Mr. Lee's attempt to interweave social commentary concerning the historical treatment of African Americans in our country into the context of a war film taking place in the 1940's in Europe, this film is so extraordinarily cliché ridden that it destroys any meaningful attempt to say something that is important. Though it clearly remains relevant to remember that black soldiers in World War II were called upon to fight and die for a country that denied them basic civil rights back home, one was left feeling exploited with flashback scenes of those soldiers being denied the right to eat at a restaurant in the South during their basic training.

I have long been an admirer of Spike Lee not only as a filmmaker, but also as a social provocateur. While films like "Jungle Fever" (1991), "Clockers" (1995) and "Bamboozled" (2000) are not great films in the classic sense, Mr. Lee allows his camera to act like a microscope where the audience is given an amplified look at racial and socioeconomic issues that most directors won't touch.

Nonetheless, no matter how stirring and insightful his films are, I don't think that he possesses great range as a director. For example, as interesting as his "Inside Man" (2006) was, his treatment of the only two women in the film, most notably Jodie Foster, was stunningly sexist.

His continual objectification of women remains troubling, and this flaw is on vivid display in "Miracle." As an example, the only female of note, the admittedly attractive Valentina Cervi, is portrayed as little more that a sexual temptress who is to be used by the guys as she waits for her husband to return from the war.

Suffice it to say that "Miracle at St. Anna" is no "Saving Private Ryan" (1998), with the exception that its ending is even more maudlin than Spielberg's classic. Remember in "Private Ryan" where the elderly Matt Damon looks at his wife and says in words to the effect, "Tell me I'm a good person"? That regrettable scene looks like a stunning piece of cinematic achievement compared to what Mr. Lee springs upon the audience in "Miracle."

So let me close by offering Spike my unsolicited advice that he stick to what he does best, namely gritty dramas like "25th Hour" (2002) and avoid melodramatic war pictures. After all, just because Picasso couldn't paint like Michelangelo didn't mean he wasn't a genius.