James Gandolfini sits down with ten American soldiers wounded in Iraq, each marking their own "alive day": the date they nearly died and didn't. The interviews are plain and unstaged, shot in living rooms and rehab centers, as the veterans describe the moments they were hit, the surgeries that followed, and what it means to come home missing a limb or carrying a traumatic brain injury that shows up on no bandage. Some talk through PTSD symptoms in detail, the nightmares and the flashbacks that don't stop when the uniform comes off. Gandolfini, who produced the film, asks few questions and lets long silences sit on screen rather than cutting away. Families appear alongside the soldiers, describing the adjustment from their side, the caregiving and the strain it puts on marriages and parent-child relationships. There is no narrator packaging the material into a thesis; it stays close to ten specific people and what happened to their bodies and minds, and lets that stand as the record of what the war cost them individually.