Of Quiet Wisdom And Fierce Willpower

In previous years, in the lead up to St. Patrick's Day, I have occasionally reviewed a movie with an Irish aspect to it. Such is the case again this year, with a  masterful film from the 1990s that has a darker theme.

“You’re not looking me in the eye when you’re speaking to me. You see, I know how to look at people without blinking as well. In all my god forsaken life I have never known what it was like to want to kill somebody until now. You’re a brave man, Joe. A brave man.” ~ Gerry Conlon

 “Next time you see Belfast, they’ll be flying day trips to the moon.” ~ Detective

“Well, I think they should take the word compassion out of the English dictionary.” ~ Gareth Peirce

“Don’t you be comforting me when I can see the truth staring me in the face. I’m scared I’m gonna die in here.” ~ Giuseppe Conlon

“I’m a free man, and I’m going out the front door.” ~ Gerry Conlon

In 1993, director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, The Field, The Boxer) brought a biographical courtroom drama to the big screen, telling the story of a grave injustice, of the relationship of a father and son, and of a man finding himself after a wrongful conviction and incarceration. The film, In The Name Of The Father, is based on the case of the Guildford Four and Maguire Seven out of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, people wrongfully sent to prison over terrorist acts. While it does dramatize aspects of the story, the film itself tells a powerful tale of redemption and personal growth, and boasts great performances by its three leading actors. Nominated for seven Academy Awards, in a year with Schindler’s List as competition, the movie is a masterpiece of acting.

The film opens with a bang in 1974, with a pub blown up one evening in Guildford, causing the deaths of five people and injuries to many others. We meet Gerry Conlon (Daniel Day-Lewis), a Belfast youth and petty criminal, content to strip lead from roofs, drink and get high, and occasionally get involved in riots against the occupying British security forces. His father Giuseppe (Pete Postlethwaite), a peaceful man who can’t seem to reach his rebellious, careless son, intervenes when the IRA is annoyed with Gerry, and dispatches his son to stay in London with his aunt, for Gerry’s own safety.

Gerry instead falls in with a friend, Paul Hill (John Lynch), and the two explore hippie life among other like minded people, content to be petty criminals. One night, Gerry steals money from a prostitute’s apartment, chats with a man in a park, and that night the bomb goes off. It’s not long after that he stands accused of the bombing, along with Paul and two others. Giuseppe is caught up in arrests afterwards as one of several accused supporters, and the two find themselves wrongfully convicted, incarcerated for long terms in a British prison, with seemingly no hope of clearing their names.

Sheridan not only directed the movie, but co-wrote the screenplay with Terry George. It’s based on Gerry Conlon’s book, Proved Innocent, though there are dramatic licenses taken and fictional aspects to the film. The Conlons were not incarcerated in the same cell, and in fact were mostly in separate prisons. The legal process as we see it in the film is different from the events that led to the exoneration of all parties- the real process was a good deal more complicated. And yet the film’s story captures the sense of injustice of the case in a stark way- from the use of torture and intimidation in the interrogation scenes to seeing these characters robbed of years of their lives for something they had no part in. The story strongly emphasizes the notion of a son really getting to know his father, of getting past the endless friction between them. It’s a personal growth story as well, as a careless youth, spending fifteen years behind bars, matures and becomes invested in the idea of justice, and righting a terrible wrong.

The film feels quite claustrophobic, even before we find ourselves in prison. The atmosphere of the mid-seventies Belfast, with its seething tension, violence, and stark mood, is well captured by the director in early sequences, rendering the place a warren of dark streets and narrow passages. That transfers well over to the prison sequences, where life in jail is rendered in the inhuman, hard way you’d expect. Some guards are more sympathetic to others, particularly to the increasingly frail Giuseppe, who, while becoming ever more unhealthy physically, shows a quiet inner strength of character that his son comes to see. Violence of prison life is not overlooked either- rioting or an attack on a guard is depicted in a harsh way, as is the hard attitude of an IRA man who knows full well that the Conlons are innocent. Even the final act of the film, set inside a court, has a somewhat claustrophobic air, filled with tension as things go along.

Emma Thompson appears in the film as Gareth Peirce, the lawyer who works to overturn the convictions. She is sympathetic and idealistic in her approach, particularly with Giuseppe, and then with Gerry. Her first encounters with Gerry find him bitter and cynical, loathing the very idea of the justice system, and yet her words do get through to him. Much of the film is told through the framing of recorded remarks Gerry makes to her, telling her his story. The character’s integrity and determination comes through very clearly in Thompson’s performance- this is a person of inherent decency who sees an injustice and seeks to make it right. It’s a role that scored her a Best Supporting Actress nomination that year at the Oscars.

The film also scored a nomination for Best Supporting Actor for Pete Postlethwaite, and really exposed him to North American audiences. His role as Giuseppe is a revelation to watch on screen. The peaceful father who’s frustrated with the carelessness and disregard of his son might be easily underestimated when we first see him, but there’s strength and resolve beneath all that. Giuseppe is a man who can talk the IRA out of punishing his son, and when he finds himself in prison, wrongfully convicted and fearing he won’t come out alive (an accurate fear), we begin to see the quiet personal strength that more than compensates for his increasing ill health. Gerry starts to see that too, getting to know his father and respect him for the first time in his life. It’s a marvel to watch these two actors interact on screen, to see Giuseppe’s hopes and fears, the way he copes with the injustice he’s living in, and Postlethwaite conveys that resolve of the man perfectly through his performance. You have these two magnificent actors together, one conveying quiet wisdom, the other a fierce sense of will, and it's a pleasure to watch.

Daniel Day-Lewis was also nominated for his work here as Best Actor, and well deserved. I would argue that this was the best performance by any actor that year (the Academy disagreed and gave the Oscar that year to Tom Hanks for Philadelphia). Day-Lewis has a history of really preparing for a role; in this case he lost weight he didn’t need to, spent three days and nights in a jail cell, was prevented from sleeping during that time by bangs on the door every ten minutes, and was interrogated by actual Special Branch officers. Apparently he also insisted crew members verbally abuse him on set. The result is astonishing to see- his Gerry Conlon goes from a careless, thoughtless, selfish, cynical youth on a path to self destruction, gets subjected to injustice, and comes alive in a fierce way, devoting himself to making a terrible wrong right again. It is character growth in a way that’s mesmerizing to watch on screen as Gerry matures, and it makes for a compelling performance. Day-Lewis is arguably the best actor alive today, and this is one of his best, if not his best, performances of his career.

The real Gerry Conlon had problems adjusting to civilian life at first, but then wrote about his experiences, and advocated for other wrongfully convicted people not only in Britain but around the world. His life came to an end in 2014 after a long fight with lung cancer, but his story, along with those wrongfully convicted in the case, makes a compelling argument against things like the death penalty as well as a harsh condemnation of the system that so flagrantly violates rights. The film, which does take liberties with the original story, maintains the tone of outrage at injustice, gives great actors a chance to shine in roles that are increasingly sympathetic as the story goes along, and proves to be a testament to willpower and resolve, with a tremendously cathartic ending. An argument can be made that the film might well have deserved the Best Picture Oscar that year- I think it’s just as good as that year’s winner, Schindler’s List, but unlike the latter film, In The Name Of The Father is a film you can realistically see more than once, admiring the raw power of its actors along the way.

The Secret Origin Of Rosebud

I have an image blog today. Enjoy!

Will Someone Escort Jane Fonda Off The Stage?

Oscars Producers Scramble To Replace Injured Host

Los Angeles (AP) Producers for Sunday's Academy Awards telecast have had to find a new host at the last minute, after Seth McFarlane was admitted to hospital. McFarlane, the creator of television tripe such as Family Guy and the host of this year's ceremony, was appearing at a press conference, speaking to an assembly of reporters. The group of mostly entertainment reporters included this reporter, who is being punished by his editor in chief in the only way his ironclad contract can allow: by being given pointless assignments like covering the Oscars. Complete aside: this reporter still stands by his word: your son is a spoiled brat, Ms. Fenton.

McFarlane was basking in the glow of attention from reporters at a hotel near the auditorium where last minute preparations for the ceremonies are being handled. He had been spending an hour talking about just how funny he is. In the opinion of this reporter, McFarlane isn't nearly as funny as he thinks. "You know, it astonishes me every single day just how brilliant I really am," McFarlane proclaimed. "I've struck it big in television, and everyone I meet tells me just how great I am. Granted, they are paid to say that. Now I'm going to parlay that into film. Sooner or later, you won't be able to go anywhere without running into the influence and characters of Seth McFarlane. Won't that be a perfect world?"

This reporter would consider that to be a rough approximation of the seventh circle of Hell. When asked to stop talking about himself, and to start talking about hosting the ceremonies, McFarlane nodded. "Yes, well, I can't promise to be on my best behaviour. I've got a pretty vulgar mouth, as you all know, and a tendency to speak before I think. I imagine a lot of those network censors all over the world are going to be anxious all evening long, but really, if you can't take a joke, why are you in the room? I hear Jane Fonda is going to be there making a bitter diatribe, so I've got a Family Guy skit standing by to make fun of her that'll be like that Aristocrats standup joke, only a trillion times more offensive. And I'm planning on heckling Tommy Lee Jones all evening long. What's he going to do? Hit me? I think I can take him. Oh, and I'll have the entire cast of Les Miserables arrested by French militiamen and marched out of the auditorium. And look forward to my entrance. I'm planning on walking in dressed just like John Wilkes Booth. I'm sure Daniel Day-Lewis won't mind that at all."

McFarlane seemed to be looking beyond the crowd of reporters as he halted in midspeech. This reporter glanced back, and saw someone familiar, passing through a corridor nearby. It was the legendary Mountie, RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich, looking grouchy. That was to be expected, of course. He was in the city with the highest ratio of entertainment reporters in the world, no doubt his own personal vision of Hell. Word on the street had it that Ulrich had come down to Los Angeles to retrieve a fugitive arrested by the LAPD, a fugitive tied to the massive Canadian maple syrup heist from last year. He hadn't been sighted by reporters, however. The Mountie, who has a sterling reputation for saving the world from archvillains and a habit of beating up entertainment reporters, seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

McFarlane spoke up suddenly. "Hey, you! Wait!" He stepped down from the podium, wading through the crowd of reporters, who started to rise to follow him. McFarlane intercepted Ulrich outside the press conference, calling, "I know you! You're Lars Ulrich!"

A murmur of excitement rose up among the reporters, most of them entertainment reporters. Those of us who consider ourselves real reporters knew better than to antagonize the Inspector. McFarlane wrapped an arm around the Inspector, seemingly oblivious to the hostile glare in the Mountie's eyes. "It's great to meet you. We should really work together." McFarlane flashed that big stupid grin, while photographers took pictures of the pair.

Inspector Ulrich looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. "Am I supposed to know who you are?" he asked in a low, growling voice.

McFarlane laughed. "Lars, you're such a kidder! Seriously though, everyone knows who I am. Seth McFarlane, funniest man alive. Creator of Family Guy. Of course you know who I am. Listen, I'm hosting the..."

Ulrich rolled his eyes. "Oh, that... cartoon," he muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. He seemed to be looking at McFarlane in a way that suggested he was considering how to knock out every single tooth in McFarlane's mouth in the timeliest fashion possible. "You do realize you're not funny?"

McFarlane laughed again, clapping the Inspector on the shoulder. "This guy! Am I right, people? Such a kidder! Listen, I'm hosting the Oscars this Sunday. Do you think you and the rest of Metallica can come play at the ceremony?"

Ulrich was silent for a moment. Then, in the lowest, most hostile tone this reporter had ever heard in a human voice, he told McFarlane, "I am not that Lars Ulrich, you brainless buffoon."

McFarlane appeared confused, a common trait for the man. In the opinion of this reporter, Seth McFarlane isn't all that bright. "Are you sure?" he asked the Inspector after a long moment. Within five seconds, McFarlane was on the run of his life, being chased by a very angry Mountie out of the hotel and into the streets of Beverly Hills, screaming like a little girl.

When he was finally found, late that night, McFarlane was unconcious at the base of the Hollywood sign, battered and beaten. He's been hospitalized, and doctors are saying he'll be eating his meals from a straw for the next six months, with physical therapy for the next three years. They describe his condition as stable but annoying.

Producers of Family Guy and American Dad have announced the shows will be going on indefinite hiatus, as McFarlane is so crucial to continued production. When asked at the White House, the President shrugged. "You know, I've never found that guy funny. He's really rather tedious."

In a rare display of bipartisan agreement, the Speaker of the House remarked, "Good riddance to him. He had it coming."

Producers are calling in the big guns to save the Oscars at the last minute. Frequent host Billy Crystal has stepped in to take the hosting gig. He told reporters, "I figured McFarlane would just blow the whole thing, and make Letterman's hosting gig look wonderful in comparison. I didn't figure he wouldn't make it to the ceremony though. I'm glad to help. And just for the record, I'm smart enough not to mistake a cranky Mountie for a heavy metal musician."

As for Inspector Ulrich, he's back on his way to Canada, taking the errant maple syrup stealing fugitive with him. When reached at the airport, he was dragging the fugitive by the scruff of the collar toward the departure gate. He growled at a group of cautious reporters, including this one. "If you idiots ask me one question about Metallica, I'm taking you on board that plane and throwing you out when we reach altitude."

This reporter and his colleagues decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and left the Inspector to leave in peace. This reporter has learned three vital life lessons down through the years. First, never play poker with someone named Doc. Second, keep your distance from anyone who likes saying, "what's the worst that can happen?" And last... never annoy a grouchy Mountie who hates reporters.

The Great Emancipator

Some scholars of history refuse to play the What If game. I rather like it. In regards to the American Civil War, we can ask ourselves what might have happened if John Wilkes Booth might have decided to call it quits and leave the country in April 1865 instead of choosing the path he did... or if he had missed his one shot that night in Ford's Theatre, and President Lincoln had lived. Reconstruction would have taken a very different path, civil rights would have been in place firmly as part of it nearly a century earlier... and Martin Luthor King Jr. would have been merely a particularly eloquent preacher.

Director Steven Spielberg has long sought to film a biography of the sixteenth President of the United States; he has had the project in mind for years on end, and finally the film itself has been made and released. Lincoln examines the final months of the President's life, and the final portions of the horrendous Civil War, on a very different battlefield: politics.

The film is drawn from the book Team of Rivals, by historian and writer Doris Kearns Goodwin, with a script by Tony Kushner. It revolves around the fight to pass the thirteenth amendment, abolishing slavery once and for all. The President, played masterfully by Daniel Day-Lewis, struggles to keep the country together in the final months of the war, while his commanding general, U.S. Grant (Jared Harris) works to force the surrender of Confederate forces near Richmond.

The struggle to pass the amendment presents its own challenges in Congress. On one side, fervent abolitionists like Thaddeus Stevens (a scene stealing Tommy Lee Jones) demand the immediate abolition of slavery. On the other, Democrat representatives who are openly hostile to abolition refuse to budge. In the middle are a swirl of voices, such as Francis Blair (the magnificent Hal Holbrook) and Secretary of State William Seward (the always outstanding David Straithairn) trying to find a path to peace- one that might mean setting the amendment aside.

Lincoln argues for the amendment, among his cabinet and among his opposition. He copes with the turmoil in his marriage to Mary Todd Lincoln (Sally Field) and worries about his son Robert (Joseph Gordon Levitt), a staff officer in the army. He's a father who has already buried children, and this- along with his worry for Robert- reflects in his relationship with the remaining son, Tad, still a boy. He finds himself trying to coax, cajole, twist arms, even using political favours in the efforts to bring about the end of slavery once and for all, feeling that a just peace can only happen if slavery is ended forever.

Spielberg is often known for bombast in his films, but here that isn't the case. With few exceptions- early sequences of battle, for instance- the bombast is turned off. He lets the story tell itself, and he assembles the ideal crew for it. The film feels like a Washington of the 1860s, from the look of buildings, the lighting of homes and offices, and the clothing and accessories of people to the infighting and volatile nature of the political atmosphere. Tremendous attention to detail has been shown by the crew. Cinematography seems to carry us into the midst of the political field of battle, drawing us back in time. Spielberg's frequent cinematographer Janusz Kaminski outdid himself with his work on the film, and deserves an Oscar. And John Williams gives an indepth, stirring musical score, once again living up to his reputation as the best Hollywood has to offer in film composers. 

Spielberg has assembled an extraordinary cast for the occasion. Holbrook, a legend on stage and screen, gives yet another fine performance as a voice of reason and elder statesman. Straithairn, who always brings depth and layers to a performance, does so again as Seward; I was reminded several times of how in history, Lincoln and Seward started out as rivals for the nomination, and only later became friends. Bruce McGill, a character actor who often appears in the most unlikely of roles, has a fierceness in his role as Secretary of War Edwin Stanton; the performance is similar to Kevin Kline's take on the man in The Conspirator. Harris, previously seen  in Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows gives the right amount of gruffness to the exceptional General Grant.

Sally Field, who's actually two decades older than Mary Lincoln was at the time, and ten years older than Day-Lewis, nonetheless is right for the role. She looks younger than she is, and Mary, in all pictures of the time, looks older than she was. She plays the part as you'd expect; occasionally very difficult in personality, probably hard to live with, and with traces of the unstability that was to dominate the rest of her life. There's also a warmth and protectiveness at times in the character, as Field and Day-Lewis come across as very natural together. Joseph Gordon-Levitt playing their son Robert does well in the role. As a young actor, he's continuing to grow in interesting roles. As Robert, he plays the young man chafing at the bit, and it's one of the cruel ironies in life that Robert was touched by assassination again, later in life, witnessing the assassination of President Garfield.

Tommy Lee Jones steals pretty much every scene he's in (he's good at that), and should be a lock for Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars. His take on Thaddeus Stevens is that of a passionate, ferocious man of principle. He's a crafty politician, yes, but he's also one of integrity. Jones breathes fire and life into the character.

I have long thought that Daniel Day-Lewis is the best actor around today. My favourite of his roles must be Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans, and I had thought that his lead role in the film In The Name of The Father was him at his best. Playing the President is a performance that matches, if not exceeds both of them, and he should be given the Leading Actor Oscar right now. Day-Lewis has a talent for disappearing into the role, and only takes roles he finds interesting. I've heard he stayed in character even off the set, typical of his methods as an actor. Here he conveys a peculiar sounding voice that is nonetheless the sort of voice commanding attention- something that history records Lincoln himself had. 

He plays the President as a man given to making a point through telling a story, a rough around the edges Mid-Western politician, a frontier man. His Lincoln is true to what the man himself would have been like: a highly capable political operator, very intelligent, cunning and crafty, with great instincts about human nature. There are times he comes across as aloof or distant, qualities that feel true to what we know. And there is a strong sense of humour, integrity, and principle to the man. Day-Lewis shows us a man who's exhausted by years of war, but still firmly dedicated to the cause. Close your eyes for a moment, listen to the voice, and you'll wonder if you're listening to the actor, or the man himself. The performance is that good.  

This is the best film of the year.