Set against the volatile Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Steven Spielberg's Munich is a lament for the inevitability and futility of the cycle of revenge. Beginning with a famous tragic event -- the kidnapping and eventual murders of the Israeli athletes by Palestinian terrorists, known as Black September, at the 1972 Munich Olympics -- the film proceeds to work through the mechanics of the Israeli response and its justification. Mossad, the Israeli intelligence agency, assembles a five-man force to locate and assassinate eleven Palestinian terrorist leaders who, they believe, helped plan the attack.

The movie doesn't dwell on the rights and wrongs of coming to this decision in the first place. As it explores in good detail the logistics of each successive assassination attempt, it reveals the multi-faceted cost of revenge. Huge sums of money are required for information, collateral damage must be minimized but is ultimately unavoidable, and the missions take a large toll on the nerves of the individuals who carry them out. The assassins are given orders to follow blindly, never getting the opportunity to personally confirm how their target was involved in the Munich incident, thereby never being allowed to ease their consciences.

The illustration of revenge as an ugly and fruitless business is not surprising per se -- Munich arrives predictably at the pacifist's doorstep as the protagonist, Avner (Eric Bana), becomes more disturbed as his team's terrorist targets are continually replaced by new leaders. More surprising is Spielberg's uncharacteristically unsentimental approach to this story. As a Jew, he would logically have a personal investment in it, and he's never held back from putting forth his points of view, especially when it comes to exalting a heroic subject. He sanctified Oskar Schindler and empathized with the duty-driven soldiers of World War II.

Yet here, Avner and his commanders are hardly seen as sympathetic, even as the movie sets up their course of action as one that is necessary -- Israel must counterattack in order to put up a show of strength. In fact, Avner starts out as a warm, outwardly gentle man who loves his wife and is expecting a child, and becomes colder and more vengeance-driven as the story progresses. Revenge consumes him, destroying his soul bit by bit. He's later reduced to a man who can reach no conclusions about the work that he's accomplished.

Is Spielberg not choosing to side with those who would call for retaliation? His consistent flashbacks to the re-enactment of the Munich tragedy say otherwise. However, what side he's on is not the issue; instead, he uses Munich as a means of grappling with his own conscience. He shows courage in devoting a movie to what is essentially, despite all rational outrages to the tragedy, a peaceful dissent -- an examination of the idea that, through the process of revenge, ideals are lost along the way. The position remains relevant, and it's refreshing to see Spielberg operating outside his usual comfort zone in an open-ended public exploration, albeit one that's not without his usual craft for making involving, suspenseful films.

(Released by Universal Pictures and rated "R" for strong graphic violence, some sexual content, nudity and language.)

Review also posted on www.windowtothemovies.com.