The Fog of War, Errol Morris’ documentary on the life of former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, does not tell the story of his life. Rather the film uses McNamara, who has been called a war monger and cold-hearted killer for his roles in World War II and Vietnam, to examine the nature of human conflict. McNamara stares directly into the camera and admits that he has made mistakes—just like anybody. Only his mistakes, of course, led to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people.

Morris divided The Fog of War into the “Eleven Lessons of Robert S. McNamara.” “Learn from your mistakes,” for instance, might seem cliche, but this and other lessons resonate as McNamara’s stories unfold against the backdrop of stunning archival footage, White House recordings, photographs and a hypnotic score from Phillip Glass. In a remarkable scene, pieces of paper with hand-written numbers tallying the amount of people killed by bombs flutter out of bombers.

As he has in past work such as A Brief History of Time and The Thin Blue Line, Morris pushes the limits of documentary film. Despite his violent actions, McNamara wins you over as you get to know him. His voice tells one story but his eyes seem to imply dark secrets; still, for every moment you want to reach out and dry his eyes, a cut of raw footage of devastation keeps you in check. No matter what opinion you may have before stepping out to see a film on Robert McNamara, The Fog of War will likely challenge it. Some may argue that the film is too vague for its controversial subject matter and be frustrated by its ambiguity. McNamara makes no apologies for his actions. The Fog of War does not want us to love or hate Robert McNamara, just to listen, and, possibly, to understand him. A2P