It's that I'm still coming to grips with how a woman could possibly have dreamed up this spartan American soldier in Iraq, who, while obsessively romancing death as a bomb-squad ace, outdoes the most extreme images of machismo ever produced by mainstream America. [. . .] Looks to me like she's masquerading as the baddest boy on the block to win the respect of an industry still so hobbled by gender-specific tunnel vision that it has trouble admiring anything but filmmaking soaked in a reduced notion of masculinity. (Martha Nochimson, “Kathryn Bigelow: Feminist pioneer or tough guy in drag?” 24 Feb. 2010) First off, if you were my wife, I'd be happy to go back to bombs too. Secondly, I didn't much like the teflon-soldier, either. Had me thinking at times of the worst part of “Gladiator,” when Maximus steps back from the scribe who wets himself. I understand the current appeal of narrowing your focus, though. Just get into a groove, do something over and over ...