Military
figures have long fascinated the American public, if only because they
most rise to notoriety during periods of extreme collective
psychological duress. Perhaps most divisive among a handful of
preeminent war legends of the last century — a list including George
Patton, Dwight Eisenhower, Norman Schwartzkopf, Colin Powell — is the
hard-charging General Douglas MacArthur, the courageous and egotistical
leader who engineered a bold invasion in the Korean War only to
eventually be fired by President Harry Truman in one of the more
controversial executive orders of its time.

Drawing on archival
footage and myriad first person interviews with historians like Stephen
Ambrose, this “American Experience” production charts, in expectedly
detailed fashion, the full course of public life of its subject.
Running a full four hours, though, MacArthur also delves deep
into the general’s background, adolescence and home life, all of which
tremendously inform this portrait of a driven, brilliant and yet
sometimes very isolated man.

The phrase “theater of war” was tailor-made for a glory whore like
MacArthur, who grew up in the shadow of his stentorian father, Arthur
(that’s right, Arthur MacArthur), who drove back Geronimo’s marauders
and instilled in his sons both a desire and expectation for military
service. After an 1883 bout with measles that took one of his brothers,
Douglas went on to West Point, then became captain of the so-called
“Rainbow Division” during World War I, where he displeased his
superiors and won the hearts of his men by flaunting a devil-may-care
attitude — eschewing both a gas mask and feckless instructions,
charging up hills in his West Point sweater and a scarf his mother,
Pinky, made him. It was at this time that he reportedly first uttered
the quote most famously associated with him: “Sometimes it’s the orders
you don’t obey that make you famous.”

Returning home to the States after the war, MacArthur was made
superintendent of his alma mater, where he stirred up the conservative
West Point base by transforming it from a provincial repository based
on fear and drilled repetition into a cosmopolitan university rooted in
self-respect and pride. It was this experience that would inform his
singular vision and lay the groundwork for his future triumphs — and
overstepped boundaries — in both Korea and the Philippines.

While it’s obviously primarily a biography, and thus appeals to the historically-minded, MacArthur
works equally well as an explanatory document of the peculiar type of
American aggression under the microscope in documentarian Eugene
Jarecki’s masterful Why We Fight.
For those wondering why there is such a gap between this country’s
rhetorical calls for peace, freedom and democracy and our unironically
embraced bloody history as bayonet-pointing, globo-cop enforcer of
same, one need look no further than a figure like MacArthur, who in
many ways is the perfect product of the military industrial complex,
before it even had a name.

Spread out over two discs in a regular Amray case with snap-in tray, MacArthur
is presented in 4×3 full screen, and includes links to printable
material for educators. The heartiness of the feature is a bit of a
double-edged sword, in that it leaves you completely sated in its
portrait of the man, but wanting more information about some of the
specifics of the battles, conflicts and incidents that it touches upon.
B+ (Movie) C (Disc)