In the late 80s, Staten Island was the worst place on Earth.

That was one of the takeaways that I got from watching the 1986 film, Combat Shock.  The film was shot on location on Staten Island and, indeed, it’s a grim viewing experience.  Frankie Dunlan (played by Rick Giovinazzo, the brother of the film’s director, Buddy Giovinazzo) is a Vietnam war vet who, having spent time in a coma as a result of his war injuries, has returned home to a country that doesn’t have much use for him.  He lives in a run-down and dirty apartment with his wife (Veronica Stork) and their gray, constantly-crying mutant baby.  (The baby’s mutation is explained by Frankie’s exposure to Agent Orange.)  Because Frankie has no skills, he can’t get a job.  Because he can’t get a job, he has no money and his wife keeps yelling at him to call his father.  But Frankie doesn’t want anything to do with his father, who was apparently a jingoistic racist and who currently believes that Frankie was killed in Vietnam.

(And perhaps Frankie was.  There’s a part of me that wonders if the whole film was meant to be Frankie’s end-of-life vision as he lay dying in Vietnam.)

The television at the apartment only show static but Frankie and his wife watch it anyways.  The milk in the refrigerator is expired but Frankie drinks it regardless.  Frankie gets a note announcing that he and his family are about to be evicted but he doesn’t seem to be particularly upset about it.  Frankie, who has the 1,000-yard stare of a man continually woken up by nightmares and the ever-present dirty stubble of a meth addict, is too trapped in the horrors of the past to fully comprehend the horrors of the present.

Leaving his apartment, Frankie wanders around the dirtiest and most depressing areas of Staten Island.  The buildings are abandoned.  Every wall is covered in graffiti.  Gangs roam the streets.  Frankie runs into a desperate drug addict who is later seen ripping open his arms so that he can sprinkle heroin into his flesh.  Outside an employment office, a mysterious blonde on a motorcycle looks at Frankie and appears to invited him to join her but Frankie refuses to move.  Inside the employment office, Frankie’s case worker speaks in non-sequiturs.  “Life is hot, and because life is hot, I must take off my jacket,” the case worker says while Frankie stares at him with a blank look on his face.

Frankie has visions and hears voices.  His flashbacks to Vietnam are filmed in haunting slow motion, all the more to make us wonder if he’s actually seeing what happened in the past or if he’s hallucinating an entirely different existence for himself.  Combat Shock is a horror film but it’s the horror of Frankie’s fractured mind.  Frankie served his country but now his country views him with disgust.  The film ends on a dark note, one that is not pleasant to watch but one that equally feels pre-destined.

Combat Shock is a film that is so grim and dark that it’s developed a semi-legendary reputation.  Watching the film, I respected the filmmaker for staying true to his dark vision and essentially refusing to compromise or let up in the least.  At the same time, I have to admit that I got a little bit bored with film’s nonstop darkness.  As a character, Frankie is not particularly compelling.  (The film has been frequently compared to David Lynch’s Eraserhead but Combat Shock has none of that film’s quirky humor and Frankie is nowhere near as sympathetic as Jack Nance’s Henry.)  The film succeeds by staying true to itself but, in the end, it’s not a film that most people will want to watch a second time.  And perhaps that’s the point.  Frankie may be too desensitized to be angry but the film is outraged at way the country treats men like Frankie, who carry the scars of serving their country but who have simply been pushed to the side by a society that doesn’t want to be reminded of the bad times.  Much like An American Hippie In Israel, Combat Shock is a film that demands that we stop pushing buttons and take care of each other.