Early in The War Tapes, the new documentary about the Iraq war, one of the featured soldiers expresses doubts about the ability of anyone to tell a story without bias. The speaker, Steve Pink, is a good writer with some schooling in journalism, but his distrust of the media seems to be more dismissive broadside than thoughtful critique.

Still, given the nature of the film, which was shot mostly by soldiers in the field, the implication of Pink's statement is that The War Tapes will be something else: a slice of the war told and shown as it happens by those who lived it.

And it is that. But one of the best things about the film is the sharp opinions of the three soldiers its director, Deborah Scranton, chose to feature. Those choices themselves were subjective, as were many of Scranton's other decisions in turning more than 800 hours of footage into a 97-minute film.

Do these choices come from bias? Yes and no.

Here's one aspect of the yes: A vast majority of military life is boredom and tedium. "Hurry up and wait" is a phrase every soldier knows and understands within hours of enlisting. And yet any filmmaker who spends a year directing soldiers to record their own experiences, as Scranton did, will choose all the best action for her film. The War Tapes captures "Hurry up and wait," but it is the danger, violence and gritty reality of the war that Scranton is after, and she gets it.

But this is a message film in only one sense. The message is this: No matter how easy it has been for the vast majority of Americans to ignore what is occurring on the ground in Iraq, it is wrong to do so.

Here, in this film, made by a New Hampshire director and filmed by men from a unit based in New Hampshire, is a chance to witness the war almost firsthand. Here's how close to home the film comes: In 2004, when the men of Charlie Company, 3rd Battalion, 172nd Mountain Infantry Regiment, arrive at Camp Anaconda in Balad, Iraq, one of their first acts is to plant the state flag. "Live free of die," a voice says as the blue banner opens.

The War Tapes will have its New Hampshire premiere on June 22 at the Capitol Center for the Arts. Please circle the date. As a citizen and a patriot, you owe it to yourself, and to the men and women who are risking their lives on behalf of a policy pursued by our commander-in-chief, to see this film.

Don't get me wrong: This is not principally a matter of duty. The film is superb. This spring, at the Tribeca Film Festival in New York City, it won the prize as best feature documentary.

I've known Scranton, who lives in Goshen, for several years. From time to time during the making of the film, we talked about what she was doing. Her appreciation for soldiers and veterans is extraordinary, and it comes through in The War Tapes.

The National Guard offered her the chance to go with Charlie Company as an embedded journalist, but she chose instead to equip several men with state-of-the-art video cameras. She won their confidence before they left. During their deployment, she directed their work by instant-messaging and cell phone.

The three soldiers she ultimately chose as chief filmers are not necessarily representative of the unit. Mainly they represent themselves - and they expose themselves to personal scrutiny that few of us would find comfortable. This gives the film a powerful authenticity.

The great divide

During the Vietnam War, a frequent complaint was that the narrative of the war presented to Americans omitted a vital component: the Vietnamese. The same criticism could be made of The War Tapes. It is a story told from the American point of view. And in an urban guerrilla war, the distance the soldiers must keep from ordinary Iraqis is understandable and necessary.

On the other hand, one of Scranton's subjects is Zack Bazzi, a native of Lebanon who speaks fluent Arabic. He moved to Watertown, Mass., as a boy and is now a student at the University of New Hampshire. (next page »)