While "Waltz with Bashir" appears to uncover the remedies of post-traumatic stress through a vivid portrayal of the cruelties of war, it opens the wounds of battle more so than it tends to close them, creating an utterly realistic depiction of a soldier's deeply-rooted guilt associated with his part in the 1982 Lebanon war.

In Ari Folman's animated masterpiece, a half-drama, half-documentary eye-opener that leaves the image of war carefully etch-a-sketched on-screen, an Israeli man explores his involvement in the massacre of Palestinian refugees by Christian Phalangists at the Sabra and Shatila camps in Lebanon--retaliation for the murder of popular Lebanese President Bashir Gemayel. 

"Bashir was to them what David Bowie was to me," one of Folman's comrades says, comparing the idolatry of a political leader to that of a celebrity, a comparison that resonates as much today as it did then.

Folman's participation in the bloodshed is questioned when he is out with a friend, Boaz, who describes a recurring dream where he is being chased by more than 20 snarling, black, yellow-eyed hounds. 

He's been having this dream for two and a half years of an event that occurred nearly 20 years earlier. 

Unable to recall his own connection to the massacre, Folman visits a psychiatrist who tells him: "Memories are dynamic. [They're] alive. Memory takes us where we need to go."

The filmmaker proceeds to go on a journey that takes him across various locations--via flashbacks and present conversations--through talks with friends and army veterans, all help guide his memory to accurate images of what part he played as a soldier during the Lebanese conflict. 

Consequently, each discussion generates a new recollection of the horrific and grimy imagery of warfare. 

What distinguishes Folman's film from other historical film accounts is not merely the animation, which pops from the screen like the pages of a comic book coming to life, but the way Folman portrays hostilities of war not only as a kaleidoscope of horrific images, but those images juxtaposed with an almost comedic representation of combat.

Ironically, when Folman asks a friend if he can draw a picture of him and his son, the friend replies: "It's fine if you draw, but don't film," cryptically describing the way a drawing can  make things appear less real than the actual footage of an event, an impression that is effectively uncovered at the end of the film.

At one point, soldiers are fooling around in a tank, singing a song titled "Good Morning Lebanon," while haphazardly eating a bag of crackers. For a moment, war seems peaceful. The viewer is able to witness the brotherly bond between soldiers, seeing how the safety of a huge, overpowering tank feels in comparison to open land. 

Suddenly an explosion erupts and bloody chaos ensues.

This angle continues with the musical composition, which is reminiscent of a rock music video. "I bombed Beirut every day," plays in the background as gunfire explodes. "Sure we killed someone innocent..." the song resumes as bombs continue to detonate. 

The movement of the film mimics its title, a flowery ballet that urges its audience to follow in its mind- numbing path. This occurs when a solidier literally waltzes around an array of bullets and gunfire behind a haunting, almost larger than life, poster of Bashir. 

The film touches on a war rarely discussed that could, perhaps, have used more context than the work allowed. The audience unfamiliar with those historic events will, however, empathize with Ari's inability to remember what occurred, experiencing his rediscovery with him.

With each memory, the audience captures an essence of the truth through his or her own lens. 

The most significant lesson comes at the end of the filmwhen the picture abruptly cuts from the animation of the soldier being confronted by mourning Palestinians after the deadly massacre to the real-life footage of the aftermath, forcing not only the man to face the reality of war, but the audience as well. 

Ultimately, as the animation transforms into images of real human bodies, the viewers have re-awoken-- morally and psychologically speaking--as much as the soldier is himself.