GOOD NIGHT, AND GOOD LUCK ***1/2 (out of ****) Starring David Strathairn, George Clooney, Robert Downey Jr., Frank Langella, Patricia Clarkson, Ray Wise, Jeff Daniels, Reed Diamond, and Alex Borstein Directed by George Clooney & written by Clooney and Grant Heslov 2005 93 min PG “…he was one of those civilized people for whom political agreement was not a precursor to friendship…” —Edward R. Murrow, in reference to a Socialist friend “Good Night, and Good Luck” isn’t so much about McCarthyism as it is an open criticism of television in general. Moreover, it is a visualization of those famous words spoken by Edward R. Murrow in 1958 when he was receiving some big prize, using his own life as an object lesson. I ought to be able to paraphrase it pretty well, as it is periodically quoted by PBS: “We can use television to educate, inform, and enlighten, or we can use it to deaden, distract, and insulate.” What PBS doesn’t quote from Murrow’s speech, as he puffed away at a cigarette, is that he implies that TV was getting worse. Far from questioning the powerful, Murrow asserts that TV is becoming a tool of the powerful—the state, the wealthy, the status quo—that merely repeats what the powerful have said, or distracts us from their existence. The object lesson used by “Good Night” is Murrow’s battle and victory over Senator Joe McCarthy. Who plays McCarthy? Nobody. McCarthy’s own news footage is incorporated into television screens and projectors throughout “Good Night, and Good Luck.” It’s one of those “right thing for the wrong reasons” that no man as ugly, jiggly, and sweaty as Joe McCarthy could become powerful today. Not surprisingly, “Good Night” covers much of the same ground as Michael Mann’s 1999 journalism epic “The Insider” (the real-life person of Don Hewitt is portrayed in both films). But “Good Night” has a more narrow focus and is probably an hour shorter than “The Insider.” Virtually every scene is set within CBS headquarters, or the bar across the street. We begin with an army officer under investigation, as Murrow (David Strathairn) and his producer Fred Friendly (George Clooney) warily realize that reporting this story is the first step to taking on McCarthy directly. They do not court this battle, but accept that it is the duty of journalism not just to report facts, but to question the powerful at every step, especially someone who is so clearly abusing his power. By necessity, “Good Night” has some speechifying, simply because that is what Murrow (and all newscasters) do when addressing the camera. And, of course, McCarthy refers to everyone who argues with him as a Communist or someone who hates America. (Keep that in mind next time you hear someone casually tossing around the word “patriot.”) Strathairn’s performance is almost sure to be up for an Oscar, but is simply too quiet to win. He does everything he needs to and little extra, and smokes like “The Man Who Wasn’t There.” The minimalism of this man is quite alluring: to go through life with one expression, one tone of voice, and a huge vocabulary. Even his occasional verbal flourishes are delivered in deadpan; he doesn’t mean to be funny. Murrow is portrayed as a good man but not a saint. A journalist friend of his (Ray Wise) is torn down repeatedly by a pro-McCarthy editorials and, rather than stick up for him, Murrow, quite rightly, says that he’s too busy toppling McCarthy. More revealing is that Murrow’s superior, the president of CBS (Frank Langella) points out that, while Murrow may correct virtually every fudged fact to come from McCarthy’s fat mouth, Murrow never countered McCarthy’s claim that Alger Hiss was convicted of treason. “Hiss was not convicted of treason, but perjury,” the prez reminds him. “But you didn’t want to point that out and look like you were defending a known Communist. See, everyone censors himself.” And, of course, no one—not Murrow, not anyone—has the temerity to come out and say that truth, which is that this is America, and it is your Constitutional right to be a Communist if you want to, and no one can stop you. Then as now, the business interests of the companies that own the “free” press get in the way. “Free” press should probably be replaced with the term “owned press.” The state may not censor our news, and for that I am eternally great and proud of my country, but the free market does. If sponsors and viewers aren’t interested in something, then it doesn’t go on the air. A bumper sticker that I saw a few weeks ago put it quite concisely: the media are only as liberal as the conservative businesses which own them. This subject matter could result in a dreadful, dull, and didactic TV movie. But George Clooney (“Confessions of a Dangerous Mind”) does a bang-up job as a director, using a style that is so disciplined that I want to call it “architecturally formal.” His visual strategy is precise and cerebral because Murrow is portrayed as precise, cerebral, and clipped to the point that he borders on effeminacy. Yet “Good Night, and Good Luck” is also a movie that breathes, and is not in a hurry, and not above dawdling with little details of how a 1950s TV studio works. So many shirt sleeves, so many typewriters, so much outdated equipment, and so many clouds of cigarette smoke (some of them digitally added, I think). Clooney’s tanktop is perpetually visible under his shirt. The staff is almost entirely male, and the girls do the busywork. The real star of “Good Night” is the cinematographer Robert Elswit, who works often with Paul Thomas Anderson.. Wow—his work is magnificent. There’s a shot of a man standing in a lobby. A door opens, and for those few moments, as sunlight floods marble, the lighting in the lobby completely changes. Elswit is showing off, but who cares? It’s lovely. Page two of "Good Night, and Good Luck." Back to home. |