Movies about the Vietnam War usually go one of two ways. They’re either gritty, hyper-realistic masterpieces like Platoon or they’re high-octane action romps where the hero never runs out of ammo. But the faith of our fathers film is a weird, fascinating outlier. It doesn’t try to be Apocalypse Now. Instead, it’s this strange, dual-timeline journey that tries to bridge the gap between the jungle of 1969 and the paved roads of 1997. Honestly, it’s a movie that people either really love for its heart or struggle with because of its budget.
The story follows two men, John Paul George (played by Kevin Downes) and Wayne (played by David A.R. White). They’ve never met, but they share a specific, painful bond: both their fathers went missing in action during the war. They end up on a road trip to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in D.C., guided by a handful of letters written from the front lines.
It’s a Pure Flix production. If you know that studio, you basically know the vibe already. It’s unapologetically Christian, heavy on the message, and aimed squarely at an audience that feels like Hollywood usually ignores them.
The Dual Narrative Gamble
Switching between decades is hard. In the faith of our fathers film, the director, Carey Scott, chose to split the screen time between the "present day" road trip and the actual combat sequences in the 60s.
The Vietnam scenes feature Stephen Baldwin and Sean Astin. Seeing Samwise Gamgee in olive drab is a bit of a trip, but Astin actually brings a lot of weight to the role of a soldier grappling with his mortality. These flashback scenes are where the film tries to earn its emotional stripes. They aren’t just about the shooting; they’re about the conversations in the foxholes.
What’s interesting is how the movie handles the "why" of the war. It doesn't get bogged down in the geopolitics of the 1960s. It focuses on the personal faith of the men in the dirt.
But then you have the 1990s road trip. This part of the movie plays more like a buddy comedy. White and Downes have a natural chemistry—they’ve worked together on a dozen projects—but the tonal shift can be jarring. One minute you’re watching a tense ambush in the jungle, and the next you’re watching two guys bickering in an old car. It’s a risky way to tell a story. Sometimes it works; sometimes it feels like two different movies were edited together.
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The Stephen Baldwin Factor
Stephen Baldwin plays Mansfield, a devout Christian soldier who is essentially the moral compass of the Vietnam segments. Baldwin has been very vocal about his own faith in real life, and you can tell he’s not just "playing a part" here. He’s leaning into the sincerity.
His character acts as a mentor to Astin’s character, Rogers. The letters they write—the ones that eventually drive the plot in the future—are filled with the kind of raw, spiritual searching that you’d expect from men who don't know if they'll see tomorrow.
Critics often slammed the film for being "preachy," but that misses the point of who this movie was made for. It wasn’t made for the Cannes Film Festival. It was made for families who want to see their values reflected on screen. Does it have "faith-based movie" tropes? Absolutely. There are moments where the dialogue feels a bit too "on the nose." But for its core demographic, that directness is a feature, not a bug.
Why the Production Design Matters (and Where it Struggles)
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: the budget.
Making a war movie is expensive. Like, "hundreds of millions of dollars" expensive. The faith of our fathers film didn't have that. It was filmed largely in Louisiana, using the swamps to stand in for the Vietnamese highlands.
For the most part, they pull it off. The cinematography uses tight shots to hide the fact that they aren't on a massive set. However, if you're a military history buff, you're going to spot some inaccuracies. The gear isn't always period-correct, and the scale of the "battles" is small.
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- The jungle looks lush, but it’s clearly the American South.
- The weapons handling is hit-or-miss.
- The color grading in the 1969 scenes has that classic "warm, grainy" filter to make it feel older.
Despite the technical limitations, the emotional core remains solid. The film relies heavily on the power of the written word—those letters. There’s something universally moving about a son reading his father’s last thoughts, especially when those thoughts are about God, sacrifice, and the hope of a reunion.
The Impact on the Faith-Based Film Industry
This movie came out in 2015, a time when Christian cinema was starting to find its footing at the box office with hits like God's Not Dead.
It didn't reach the same heights as some of its contemporaries, but it carved out a niche. It showed that there was an appetite for "patriotic faith" stories. It’s a sub-genre that mixes traditional conservative values with evangelical theology.
The faith of our fathers film is often cited in discussions about how to portray veterans in film. It avoids the "broken soldier" trope that was popular in the 70s and 80s. Instead, it portrays the soldiers as men of honor who were doing their best in an impossible situation.
Real Talk: Is It Actually Good?
If you're looking for a gritty war drama, you might be disappointed.
If you're looking for a slick, Hollywood-style blockbuster, this isn't it.
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But if you want a story about fatherhood, legacy, and the way faith can sustain people through trauma, it’s worth a watch. It’s a "comfort food" movie. It’s the kind of thing you watch with your dad on Father’s Day.
The acting from the leads is surprisingly grounded. David A.R. White, who is often the "face" of Pure Flix, plays a character that is more cynical and guarded than his usual roles. His journey from skepticism to understanding is the most believable part of the modern-day storyline.
The climax at "The Wall" in Washington D.C. is genuinely moving. It doesn't matter what your politics are—seeing the names etched in black granite always hits hard. The film handles this moment with a lot of respect. It stops trying to be funny or "action-y" and just lets the weight of the memorial speak for itself.
How to Approach the Film Today
If you’re planning on sitting down to watch the faith of our fathers film, keep a few things in mind to get the most out of it.
First, watch it for the performances of the fathers (Baldwin and Astin) rather than the sons. Their storyline is the real engine of the movie. Second, don't expect a history lesson. It's a character study wrapped in a camouflage jacket.
Lastly, look at it as a piece of its time. 2015 was a turning point for "independent" faith films. They were moving away from the church basement aesthetic and trying to look like real movies. This film is a bridge in that transition.
Actionable Takeaways for Viewers
- Watch with a veteran: The film often opens up doors for conversations about service and sacrifice that might otherwise stay closed.
- Focus on the letters: The writing in the letter-reading sequences is significantly stronger than the "quippy" dialogue in the car scenes. Pay attention to those.
- Lower the technical bar: If you can get past the low-budget CGI and limited sets, the story is much easier to enjoy.
- Check the soundtrack: The music is surprisingly effective at heightening the emotional beats without being too overbearing.
The legacy of the faith of our fathers film isn't its box office numbers. It’s the way it highlighted a specific type of American experience—the intersection of military service and deep-seated religious conviction. It’s a movie about healing old wounds, even if those wounds were inflicted decades before you were born.