More likely, however, the films success is due to its excellent production, assured acting displays from largely unknown actors and a gripping storyline. But what about the films politics? The absence of an overt political agenda has led some reviews to suggest that the film is simply a well made apolitical glimpse into the lives of soldiers. The Times praised the films “refusal to engage with explicit political comment”, while Rolling Stone magazine proclaimed that “here's the Iraq War movie for those who don't like Iraq War movies. The Hurt Locker doesn't preach”.

Former President George W Bush regularly promised that history would prove a validation to the wisdom of his decision to invade the country. Yet while his presidential library remains unopened, films such as The Hurt Locker are providing jigsaw pieces towards a developing popular culture that may define how the Iraq war is perceived by generations to come.

While the film does not attempt to engage in the debate over going to war, its power is in its portrayal of the chasm of separation that divides the occupier and the occupied. This reality is informed by the film’s scriptwriter, who has spent time embedded with a US bomb disposal team in Iraq. Any pretention of human connection, not characterized by ultra violence or the threat of it, between the Americans and the Iraqis is dismissed by one particular carefully crafted scene where the (anti?) hero sneaks out of the Green Zone to chase a suspect. His dashing around the Red Zone in a cinematic blur is witnessed by an astounded array of Iraqis, all of whom are viewed as potential ‘bad guys’. Upon returning to base the soldier is greeted by an aggressive torchlight and the screams of sentries on hair trigger alert, you’re almost surprised he isn’t physically decontaminated having come into contact with ‘real’ Iraq.

The message is clear, before the belated compromise and ‘people protection’ of the surge, there were the Red and Green zones, ‘them’ and ‘us’. This dichotomy is reinforced by the excellent behaviour of the central characters themselves. Their bravery and self sacrifice is a reminder that it has not been the actors but rather the stage of war itself that is responsible for the enveloping chaos. Indeed as GQ’s review summarizes the Iraq of Bigelow’s vision is one of “hell, lit by fire and rent by the screams of women and children”.

The film captures the essence of a variety of aspects of the Iraq war, many of which are encapsulated in the very IEDs themselves that the central characters are tasked to destroy. IEDs are the biggest killer of US troops in Iraq and have become a symbol of the conflict; IEDs are to Iraq what napalm was to Vietnam. The IED is an apt metaphor for what Iraq became for the Americans. An unconventional threat characterized in its asymmetrical nature that adapted to attempts to control it; from a simple buried 155mm shell or mortar round to remote detonated shaped charges. Despite the US attempts at using its technological strength to maintain advantage, organisations such as the ‘Joint Improvised Explosive Device Defeat Organization’ (JIEDDO), were always facing an thankless task regardless of the amounts of money thrown at them.

As Iraq descended into civil conflict, the increasing sophistication and moral degeneration in the usage of the bombs made them almost impossible to defend against, bombs delivered strapped to women, people with downs syndrome remote detonated, bombs hidden in the corpses of children or tied to animals. They are a tactic of the weak that can quickly highlight the shortcomings of the strong.

Ultimately the films most powerful image places the bomb disposal expert in a self contained suit approaching one of these IEDs, like an urban astronaut he is symbolic of the other world status that Iraq has achieved. Perhaps the greatest challenge that Bigelow has outlined is not who can win the battle for the legacy of Iraq, but rather how will any future human connection be re-established by the two main participants in this most bloody of escapades.