Director Kathryn Bigelow is into metaphors big time. The Hurt Locker, her Oscar-worthy film’s title, can mean any number of things – a dangerous physical space, or a wounding of the mind. It might also refer to what Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner) keeps in his foot locker – the detonators he’s risked life and limb to dismantle from bombs buried in everything from dirt roads to human flesh.

It’s all in his day’s work, protecting Baghdad’s civilians and military personnel. In bygone eras, warriors collected scalps; ironically, both kinds of talismans represent personal achievement.

Though Bigelow’s celluloid vision is minimalist – as opposed to ex-husband James Cameron’s grandiosity – it is nevertheless probing, effective and richly eloquent. Her less-is-more quasi-documentary approach works in this gem which, while insanely tense and troubling, runs contrary to every cliché we have come to expect from war films.

There are no politics, no “axis-of-evil” enemies, and none of the terrorizing and blood-and-guts torture you find in masterpieces like Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket, or Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter. Neither is there over-the-top madness à la Francis Ford Coppolla’s Apocalypse Now.

Instead, thanks to the real-life experiences of screenwriter Mark Boal, the film focusses tightly on a special bomb squad operating in and around Baghdad. Precision timing and nerves of steel coupled with grace under pressure comprise the unit’s job requirements. There is no room for recklessness in any member of the team. At least, that’s the way it’s been until the group’s head man gets killed on the job.

Enter maverick Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner) who crosses the line too often to suit operational leader Sgt. J.T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie)’s more pragmatic, cautionary approach. James relies on Sanborn to help him in and out of his special suit and to cover his back with other team members while he single-handedly risks complete exposure. James knows full well that civilian onlookers, some draped out of windows, others peering down at him from minarets, might invariably be the same people who planted the bombs in the first place.

Sanborn thinks James is foolhardy; he resents his cavalier attitude, his insistence on defying protocol when it could well cost the lives of the entire team. Nevertheless, there is also a feeling of grudging respect – if not awe – for the sheer talent of this latest bomb dismantler and certainly, audiences feel the same way. We are swept into the cyclical nature of the team’s daily rotation, and remain on the edge of our seats with each new attempt to beat the clock and stay alive.

The film’s opening quote: “War is a drug” has everything to do with the adrenaline rush one gets when defying death. We readily appreciate how James has become addicted, despite grotesque experiences. After all, he is not just good at what he does, he’s masterful.

As the number of days left to the unit’s rotation winds down, there is talk about a future back home. The question is, if James survives, how will he deal with it?