4.5 stars. Rating: R, for profanity and dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.12.12
Truth really is stranger than
fiction.
The events depicted in Argo wouldn’t be believed in a novel; the wild ’n’ crazy premise defies credibility.
And yet this bizarre CIA mission actually took place during the Iranian hostage
crisis; indeed, it was a rare burst of sunlight during the 444 grim days that
Islamist students and militants held 52 captives in Tehran’s American Embassy.
 |
| Makeup expert John Chambers (John Goodman, left) and veteran Hollywood mogul Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin, center) understand the complexity of what CIA operative Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck) has proposed: the fabrication of a Hollywood movie, complete with script and publicity campaign (note the background poster). The ersatz film must appear to be genuine ... because lives will depend on that charade. |
Argo can be placed alongside
1995’s Apollo 13, as a thoroughly engrossing drama that loses none of its
tension despite our knowing the outcome. Chris Terrio’s script blends
established fact with third-act dramatic license and some unexpectedly droll
dialogue; yes, it’s possible to derive humor from these life-and-death events.
The package is assembled with
directorial snap by Ben Affleck, who also grants himself the plum role of
Antonio “Tony” Mendez, the CIA “exfil” (exfiltration) specialist charged with a
real-life impossible mission. Affleck — as director — capably introduces the
key players and sets up the plot elements, slides into a scheme as audacious as
any caper thriller ever concocted by Hollywood, and then tightens the screws
until the tension is unbearable.
The film opens with a prologue,
depicted in movie-style storyboards, that outlines the post-WWII American
“meddling” that restored Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi to power in Iran in 1953.
Although a well-protected monarch for the next quarter-century, the Shah was
recognized in his own country as little more than an American puppet; he
eventually was deposed in February 1979 by a revolution that led to the return
of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
The fractured relationship
between the United States and Iran worsened as that year progressed, then
splintered entirely when the despised Shah — ill with cancer — was admitted to
the United States for treatment at the Mayo Clinic. Two weeks later, on Nov. 4,
an enraged mob broke through the American Embassy gates, stormed the building
and orchestrated the stand-off that kept us — and much of the world — glued to
news channels for the next 14 months.
Affleck begins his film at this
point, immediately hitting us with feelings of horror and helplessness: Nothing
has improved in the meanwhile. Here we are, in 2012, and there’s absolutely no
doubt that Taliban terrorists would attempt the same bold act, given the
opportunity. The only apparent change is that Islamic extremism and religious
intolerance have grown even worse.
The powder-keg build-up to the
embassy storming is deeply unsettling, the American efforts at damage control —
and document destruction — akin to spitting in the wind. Then comes the detail
often forgotten when we recall these ghastly events: Although the
aforementioned 52 Americans are captured quickly, six others manage to slip
away in the confusion; they’re given shelter — and concealment — in the home of
Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber).
The situation is precarious: The
Iranians soon realize that the six embassy people are missing, although their
identities remain unknown ... for the moment.
Back in the States, Mendez is
summoned by Jack O’Donnell (Bryan Cranston), the assistant deputy director of
the CIA. Mendez watches as various analysts, having been made aware of the six
stranded Americans, blue-sky some truly ludicrous rescue suggestions, each one
dumber than the last. (You gotta love the plan to bicycle out of Iran.)
Then Mendez uncorks something
even more audacious.
“You don’t have a better bad idea
than this?” he’s incredulously asked.
“This is the best bad idea we
have,” Mendez replies. “By far.”
Affleck gives that line just the
right reading. It’s funny ... but our laughter is strained, because we
recognize the need for desperate measures.
Mendez understands a core truth:
Everybody bends over backwards for a film crew on a location shoot, even during
times of political crisis. Mendez also has an ace up his sleeve: an association
with John Chambers, a veteran Hollywood makeup specialist who won an honorary
Academy Award in 1968, for his work on Planet of the Apes, and also exercised
his extensive talents on television’s original Star Trek.
On the side, unknown to his
Tinseltown friends, Chambers also applied his skills to governmental
intelligence operations.
Chambers is played, with
oversized verve, by John Goodman. It’s a plum role to begin with, and Terrio
feeds the actor plenty of deliciously snarky dialogue. Indeed, Goodman would
run away with the film, were it not for the third key player in what becomes a
fascinating Hollywood charade: Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin), a legendary movie
mogul brought in to legitimize the plan.
Arkin and Goodman may be the best
Mutt ’n’ Jeff tag team ever caught on camera; they’re simply hilarious
together, even as events in Iran escalate from tense to nail-biting.
Siegel is Terrio’s one
fabrication: a composite character drawn from various movie colony types. Although
Siegel is considered past his sell-by date, he’s no less feisty and committed
to the power of The Big Lie. And the scheme is heaven-sent to such a colorful,
blustery individual: Siegel’s last big hurrah will be a film that doesn’t
really exist ... but could save six lives.
Because that’s what Argo is: a wholly
fabricated Studio Six science-fiction spectacular and “cosmic conflagration,”
set on a distant, arid planet, which blends the then-ubiquitous formula of
spaceships, aliens, action and stalwart young heroes rescuing otherworldly
maidens. If this wholly fictitious production can be granted the imprimatur of
authenticity, then Mendez can fly into Iran — as a Studio Six co-producer — and
return with the six members of his Canadian location-scouting film crew.
Simply, utterly mad.
Affleck (as director) and editor
William Goldenberg smoothly cut between simultaneous events: the Hollywood
efforts to raise awareness of Argo and Studio Six; the fraying nerves of the
six Americans who dare not be seen outside Ambassador Taylor’s home; and the
massive Iranian effort to piece together shredded documents, in order to
identify those same six people.
Since Mendez initially is
surrounded by such flamboyant actors — Cranston’s O’Donnell is just as richly
theatrical as Arkin and Goodman — Affleck wisely modulates his performance in
the other direction. His take on Mendez is cool and collected: a patch of calm
in an otherwise turbulent ocean. It’s a crucial reading, because it lends
conviction to Mendez’s insistence — when he eventually outlines this crazy
scheme to the six dubious Americans — that yes, he can pull this off.
These embassy employees,
initially little more than a terrified group, soon emerge as distinct
individuals reacting in various ways to being in the wrong place at the wrong
time. Affleck (again, as director) needs them to remain credibly ordinary, to
emphasize their vulnerability, and he gets excellent performances from all six:
Tate Donovan, as Bob Anders, the de facto leader; Scoot McNairy, as Joe
Stafford, the only one fluent in Farsi; Kerry Bishé, as Joe’s wife, Kathy;
Christopher Denham and Clea DuVall, as Mark and Cora Lijek; and Rory Cochrane,
as Lee Schatz.
The film is authentic to its late
1979/early ’80 setting, with meticulous detail paid by production designer
Sharon Seymour and costume designer Jacquiline West. Hairstyles, as well, are
very much a product of this era. The disconnect is startling, at times; because
this hostage crisis represented such a turning point in American history — a
long-overdue shattering of naïve imperialism — Ambassador Taylor’s six “guests”
often look and sound as if they stepped out of TV’s Leave It to Beaver. Could
we ever, as a nation, have been so arrogantly dense?
Apparently so.
Affleck and Terrio build to a
stunner of a third act, and here the split-second timing begins to feel a bit
Hollywood-esque. But you’re unlikely to care; when the overall package is this
accomplished, it’s easy to forgive minor detours from the path of absolute
truth.
The entire operation remained top
secret until declassified in 1997 by President Clinton; I’m amazed it took this
long for a film to be made, particularly since Mendez described the events in
his 2000 book, Master of Disguise. (I’m also raising an intrigued eyebrow
over the similarly themed but wholly fictitious Wag the Dog, released in 1997
but obviously in production long before that. Serendipity can be ...
interesting.)
In five short years, and over the
course of three films — starting with Gone Baby Gone and The Town — Affleck
has demonstrated increasingly skilled directorial chops. Argo is the sort of
industry-themed project that inevitably draws Oscar attention; that would be
another well-deserved feather in the cap of the talented
writer/director/producer/actor who first hit our radar when he shared an
Academy Award for scripting Good Will Hunting.
Frankly, I can’t wait to see what
Affleck does next.
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