Even if you haven’t seen any of the films, the name Rambo will mean
something. Rambo is a term that has become synonymous with gung-ho action,
owing to the fictitious character’s capability of carrying out extreme violence
either in war or because of war. Interestingly, First Blood, the movie that spawned
the Rambo franchise, is based on the anti-war novel by David Morrell, a powerful
study of how war can affect the mind and the sometimes longer-lasting effects.
Combat related stress is nothing new, diagnosed as ‘shell shock’ in the
Great War and documented as far back as Ancient Greece in Homer’s epic poem,
Odyssey, in the aftermath of the Trojan war. The term PTSD, however, didn’t
exist when David Morrell started his novel in 1968. At the time, American
psychiatrists were just beginning to get to grips with a combat related
condition that they recognized was becoming more frequent and more acute in
returning service personnel from Vietnam. The dynamic in Morrell’s book is altered for
the film version to accommodate a wider audience. Fair enough, I suppose, but
it’s just another example of how contemporary fiction, whether portrayed in books or on screen, uses PTSD for dramatic effect
while ignoring the underlying issues. It’s visual and adds to the drama. Symptoms
like violent outbursts can enhance a scene while a flashback serves as a
valuable tool for plot development. But there’s usually little or no reference
in the narrative to the condition itself. A useful prop bereft of any
psychological analysis.
The oppressing effect war can have on the mind was captured in the
poetry of Wilfred Owen. Owen suffered shell shock fighting in the Battle of the
Somme and the nightmares that he experienced afterwards had a major influence
in his writing. Owen found a way to articulate his war experience, not what
happened but how he felt about it, like in the poem Strange Meeting, a haunting insight into the psychological impact
of warfare. But many who suffer a traumatizing event, men in particular, find
it difficult to express their feelings. There’s still a lot of stigma around
PTSD, especially among veterans. It’s something rarely discussed in macho
environments and it’s something Hollywood often glosses over. A common theme with mental health problems in fiction
is that the drama is in the crisis and not in the treatment. PTSD symptoms are
viewed almost like personality traits, advancing the plot but rarely explored. Rambo,
on the big screen at least, is largely portrayed as an out-of-control killing
machine, his psychological imbalance seen as just part of his character. But it’s
important to point out that PTSD is very amenable to therapy. Focusing solely
on the “sensational” lowlights comes at the expense of highlighting the whole
PTSD journey including the treatment. Most veterans resolve their symptoms by
seeking counselling. Just talking about it can help.
The Rambo franchise has been built on the effect war has had on one
man. But there are no Rambos in war,
just human beings made of flesh and bone who can be destroyed by what they
experience in combat as much as by the bullets and bombs they face on the battlefield.
The road to recovery is just as important as the destruction and orgy of chaos
that fiction often throws up.