Last Flag Flying

Patriotism is a tricky subject these days, one that often feels oversimplified and didactic when it’s broached on the big screen. Perhaps the biggest achievement of Last Flag Flying is that it doesn’t feel shallow or trite.

Rather, this low-key drama from director Richard Linklater (Boyhood) is a sensitive yet thought-provoking rumination on grief, mortality, bitterness, regret and reconciliation that balances cynicism with heartfelt appreciation for military service.

The story takes place in 2003, when Larry (Steve Carell) pops unannounced into a Virginia dive bar operated by Sal (Bryan Cranston), who served with Larry — then known as “Doc” — in the Marines in Vietnam. Sal doesn’t recognize him at first, but learns soon enough the reason for Larry’s visit.

He just found out his son was killed in Iraq, and wants to enlist the irascible Sal and another buddy, Richard (Laurence Fishburne), who’s now a preacher, for emotional support during the burial at Arlington National Cemetery. However, Larry’s plans change once he learns the true circumstances behind the death, prompting the disenfranchised trio instead to transport the body back to Larry’s home in New Hampshire for a family service.

That plan requires a road trip and some fancy maneuvering that includes an escort from a young Marine (Quinton Johnson) who happened to be the deceased’s best friend, as well as attempts to heal some lingering psychological wounds of their own.

The film is based on a Darryl Ponicsan novel that functions as a literary sequel to The Last Detail. Although such connections are never mentioned here, the dialogue in the screenplay, adapted by Linklater and Ponicsan, feels authentic even if the scenarios are more contrived.

More critically, it subtly captures through intriguing character dynamics that enduring sense of brotherhood and camaraderie forged through military service. And the performances convey the raw emotion of a bittersweet reunion under difficult circumstances.

Still, such an acting showcase might be a better fit on stage, and the story steers toward some predictable and awkwardly comedic directions. The film occasionally bogs down in philosophy or in Sal’s rants about American foreign policy — although it largely eschews politics, to its overall benefit.

The themes make the film easier to admire than enjoy. However, Last Flag Flying achieves genuine poignancy without settling for cheap sentiment or heavy-handed catharsis. That makes it worth saluting.

Rated R, 124 minutes.