Da 5 Bloods -
Crucially, the flashbacks to the Vietnam War feature the younger actors (including a radiant Chadwick Boseman) alongside the older actors—no de-aging CGI. This choice creates a disorienting, ghostly effect. The past is not behind them; it is walking right next to them. Stormin' Norman serves as the moral compass, a revolutionary figure who quotes MLK and Huey Newton, arguing that Black soldiers should be fighting for liberation, not imperialism. His death is the original sin the Bloods must atone for.
On its surface, the film is a heist-war drama, but Lee quickly subverts the genre conventions of the traditional Vietnam movie. Unlike the weary, white-centric narratives of The Deer Hunter or Apocalypse Now , Da 5 Bloods centers the Black American experience. For these men, the war was not a crisis of American conscience but a betrayal within a larger, older war: the ongoing struggle for civil rights and dignity at home.
The film’s central thesis is articulated through archival footage and blistering monologues: Black soldiers were sent to fight for a country that refused to fight for them. They were asked to defend "liberty" abroad while being denied it in Selma, Detroit, and Harlem. Lee intercuts the narrative with speeches from Muhammad Ali, Angela Davis, and footage of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., reminding us that for the Bloods, the enemy was not just the Viet Cong, but the very American flag they were ordered to follow. Da 5 Bloods
The heart and soul of the film is Paul, played with volcanic, tragic intensity by Delroy Lindo. Paul is a MAGA-hat-wearing, paranoid, and deeply traumatized veteran. He is not a hero; he is a broken man consumed by guilt and rage. Lee uses a daring, Brechtian device: in moments of extreme stress, Paul hallucinates a younger version of himself, and he delivers soliloquies directly to the camera, breaking the fourth wall.
Paul represents the unprocessed poison of the war. He suffers from PTSD, survivor’s guilt, and a deep-seated fury at being abandoned by his country. His political anger is misdirected—he supports the same system that sacrificed him—but his pain is achingly real. As the group treks deeper into the jungle, the gold (a literal and metaphorical treasure) corrupts their brotherhood, and Paul’s psyche unravels. His final, staggering walk into the jungle—a reverse "walk to freedom"—is a modern masterpiece of cinematic grief, a man finally surrendering to the ghosts he has carried for half a century. Crucially, the flashbacks to the Vietnam War feature
Spike Lee, as always, refuses a linear, comfortable style. The film jumps between aspect ratios (widescreen for the past, boxy for the present, 16mm for the war flashbacks), time periods, and musical genres. The soundtrack is a living entity, mixing Marvin Gaye’s soulful pleas ("What’s Going On") with the bombastic orchestral score of a classic adventure film.
In the sprawling, ambitious canvas of Spike Lee’s Da 5 Bloods (2020), the Vietnam War is not a relic of the past. It is a living, breathing wound that continues to fester, bleed, and demand payment. The film follows four aging Vietnam War veterans—Paul (Delroy Lindo), Otis (Clarke Peters), Eddie (Norm Lewis), and Melvin (Isiah Whitlock Jr.)—who return to the jungles of modern-day Vietnam. Their mission is twofold: to recover the remains of their fallen squad leader, the revered "Stormin'" Norman (Chadwick Boseman), and to find a buried cache of CIA gold they discovered decades earlier. Stormin' Norman serves as the moral compass, a
Da 5 Bloods is not an easy film. It is messy, loud, angry, and operatically sad. But it is also essential. It refuses to let America forget that its wars are fought disproportionately by those who have the least to gain. It argues that for the Black veteran, the war never ends—the blood never dries. And in that refusal to heal neatly, Spike Lee delivers one of the most powerful anti-war films of the 21st century.
