Kimberly Peirce’s Stop-Loss, which is probably the least politicized Iraq war drama to date, probes the hardwired loyalties of homecoming grunts without belittling their patriotism. The film is hardly a recruitment poster — the group of soldiers who return to their small Texas hometown are riddled with physical and psychic scars and marinate in booze to numb the pain — but like its obvious touchstone, the 1978 Jon Voight Vietnam vehicle Coming Home, it respects the sacrifices of the battlefield and differentiates between criticizing the war and those who fight it.

What it doesn’t do is develop this humane view along credible dramatic lines. After its predictably rhythmed opening scenes (the soldiers fail to reintegrate; their loved ones look one with concerns) Stop-Loss assumes a sort of chase-film shape, as decorated sergeant Brandon King (Ryan Philippe) receives the news that he’s to be forcibly re-enlisted (hence the title). Fuelled in equal measures by fear and feelings of betrayal, he opts to go AWOL, heading for DC and a meeting with a sympathetic senator. With his buddy’s girlfriend (Abbie Cornish) in tow, he winds up making a series of predictable, narrative-goosing pit stops: a visit with the family of a fallen soldier; a chance encounter with a fellow deserter; an army-hospital interlude with a maimed yet indomitable comrade; an alleyway brawl that triggers some very unconvincing psychosis.

This last scene is probably the only one in which Philippe’s performance falters; the film is well-acted across the board. Peirce’s facility with actors was evident in her debut, Boys Don’t Cry, but she seems to have regressed as a filmmaker — the various confrontations feel stagy. Then there’s the matter of the ending, which registers as both powerful and unearned. The generous view would be that speaks to some deep ambivalence; my suspicion is that it’s merely muddled, the capper to a series of earnest but fumbling gestures towards even-handedness. But at least Peirce is reaching.