With the announcement of the Academy Award nominations comes a surprising revelation: Jessica Chastain gives neither the best nor the most fully intense performance in Zero Dark Thirty. Her co-star Jason Clarke steals the movie by being “in the moment” and not acting. This imbalance of emotional gravitas taints a fairly original but ultimately predictable narrative.

Unlike All the President’s Men, where the audience had the chance to appreciate the protagonists in their quest, Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty presents a spiritually uneven figure in the form of Maya (Chastain). Her job involves finding Osama bin Laden. The cost proves great but even when a colleague perishes in an explosion, Maya carries on with the work at hand. The lack of depth here proves more startling than any camera choice or editing philosophy.

Bigelow may not be the awe-inspiring talent other critics make her out to be. I am still smarting from the loss of Avatar to The Hurt Locker at the Oscars. She jumps into the scenario without establishing any context. Even with words on the screen spelling out locations as well as incidental stuff, confusion may arise from the primary motive involving the treatment of those who know or might know where bin Laden is living.

Quite frankly, Chastain feels unconvincing in a role where it becomes difficult to connect a gentle voice with a hardened exterior. I never for one second believed she was living the part of an obsessed military person, totally devoid of any social life, in order to track down the murderer behind 9/11.

This brings me to the opening sound bite, where voices from the disaster overlap as a way of making the audience angry. What angers me more is how Bigelow, much like Paul Greengrass in United 93, taps into a global tragedy and labels it as entertainment with a social conscience. I believe some viewers will be offended by this choice, especially those who lost loved ones on that day.

In brief, the filmmaking represents an homage to 1970s dramatic works. The French Connection comes to mind due to the grainy, handheld look of numerous scenes. Composer Alexandre Desplat makes some first-rate choices, keeping the mood atmospheric and tight.

Editors Dylan Tichenor and William C. Goldenberg produce an overlong cut, thriving on the minutiae of repetitive scenic shots often placed in front of scenes lit like a bad home video.

As an historical work or cinematic experience, Zero Dark Thirty spends 2 ½ hours trying to justify its existence. In my view, Mark Owen’s book No Easy Day achieved the same thing with less pain.

(Released by Columbia Pictures and rated “R” for strong violence, including brutal disturbing images and some language.)