|
 (011305) "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to
repeat it."
-George Santayana
It's astounding that a treatment of a factual incident from five decades ago
could have such powerful resonance today. Lessons learned, it seems, are not
taken to heart, or the next generation willfully ignores the hard truths
purchased through blood, sweat, and tears by their parents. Today's climate of
escalating paranoia isn't that different from what this country endured in the
1950s, when the birth pains of the Cold War evacuated a placenta named Joseph
McCarthy. And while the 2000s have not yet generated a demagogue of McCarthy's
stature, the sense of déjà vu is inescapable. Replace the "Communism" of the
'50s with "Terrorism" today, and the parallels come into focus. (Note: this
should not be interpreted as an argument that terrorism is not a serious threat,
but an indication that there are those who exploit it as a means of financial
and political gain.)
Good Night, and Good Luck, a dramatized account of the public struggle between
revered CBS newsman Edward R. Murrow (David Strathairn) and Sen. Joseph
McCarthy, unfolds against the tapestry of the turbulent 1950s. With bookend
scenes taking place at an October 1958 "Salute to Edward R. Murrow," the bulk of
the narrative transpires between October 1953 and April 1954. During those
months, Murrow devoted a number of episodes of his TV show "See It Now" to
discrediting McCarthy's persecution of men believed by the Senator to be
un-American. After McCarthy targeted Murrow and the newsman was able to disprove
the most damning allegations, the Senate elected to investigate McCarthy, and
the witch-hunts were over. (The title, Good Night, and Good Luck, echoes
Murrow's sign-off.)
Most historically based motion pictures stray from the facts in order to cook up
the level of drama, but the struggle between Murrow and McCarthy is so intense
that there is no need for director/co-writer George Clooney to deviate from the
record. Events in the movie unfold as they did in real life. In fact, instead of
hiring an actor to play McCarthy, Clooney relies on newsreel footage of the
Senator. This adds to the production's sense of verisimilitude, and the
decisions to shoot in black-and-white and not use an instrumental score (some
music is provided by jazz singer Dianne Reeves) give Good Night, and Good Luck a
strong documentary feel. This is not a movie of grand melodrama, but of quiet,
understated moments. Its power is in the absence of manipulation.
In addition to chronicling the Murrow/McCarthy struggle, Clooney's movie makes a
statement about the "dumbing down" of the mainstream news media. The
responsibility of CBS to hard news was being warped by the need to entertain. At
one point, Murrow states: "We have a built in allergy to unpleasant information,
and our media reflects that." He might as well be speaking about today as the
1950s. TV news is no longer about providing information, but about giving
compelling sound bytes that grab the attention but are immediately forgotten.
Murrow was a visionary, not only in the way he stood up for what he believed in,
but in how he saw the future unfolding.
Of all the newsmen to work at the three major American networks over the years,
none (not even Walter Cronkite) has commanded the respect accorded to Murrow.
Like David, he "threw stones at giants" and survived. In re-creating Murrow,
actor David Strathairn made a careful study of his subject, and has reproduced
Murrow's style down to the smallest gesture. Yet Strathairn's work goes beyond
imitation and impersonation; he creates an intensely passionate individual who
is driven by an inflexible code of ethics. Like other actors who successfully
create a cinematic doppelganger of a real person, Strathairn gets under the
character's skin.
The supporting cast was selected not with star power in mind, but with an eye
toward actors who could do the best job fielding these roles. Clooney is a "big
name," but, by playing Murrow's second fiddle, Fred Friendly, he takes a back
seat. Robert Downey Jr. and Patricia Clarkson are the husband-and-wife team of
Joe and Shirley Wershba, who work together in a newsroom where colleagues are
not supposed to be married. Frank Langella is William Paley, the founder and
chair of CBS. And Ray Wise, possibly best known as Laura Palmer's father/killer
in TV's Twin Peaks, plays the tragic figure of Don Hollenbeck.
If there are movies that appeal primarily to the intellect and others that tug
at the heartstrings, Good Night, and Good Luck resides in the former category.
In the way it looks back at events with an unblinking eye, the film offers a
glimpse of times gone by. Let us hope it is not also peering into the future.
This is a fascinating and compelling piece of filmmaking, and its impact is
enhanced by the style in which it is presented. Part docu-drama, part thriller,
and part cautionary tale, the movie offers something to everyone who craves more
than escapism from the cinema. By releasing Good Night, and Good Luck at this
time, Clooney is using history to remind us of the precipice upon which we now
stand. It is for that reason that I have opened and will close this review with
Santayana's oft-quoted line: Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to
repeat it.
|
