Four stars. Rated PG-13, and too harshly, for profanity and brief war violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.19.18
Although Steven Spielberg’s riveting
new film gets most of its dramatic heft from the democracy-threatening events
that swirled around the release of the Pentagon Papers in June of 1971, we’re
most emotionally involved with the plight of Washington Post publisher Katherine Graham: at the time, the only
woman in a position of power at a major national newspaper.
As the film begins, and as we’re
introduced to Graham via Meryl Streep’s thoroughly engaging performance, the
poor woman is hopelessly — helplessly — out of her depth.
We spend almost the entire film
waiting for her epiphany, and for the “Meryl Streep moment” when the actress —
Graham finally having found her spine — verbally eviscerates one of her
patronizing male colleagues.
It’s a long wait ... and well
worth the anticipation.
The Post isn’t opportune merely as a reminder — at a
time when the White House is occupied by an infantile gadfly who defends his
lies by screaming “Fake news!” — of the crucial role played by our Fourth
Estate. Scripters Liz Hannah and Josh Singer couldn’t have known, as their film
was being shaped, that its parallel focus on Graham would resonate so well at a
moment when American women have risen en
masse to challenge male hegemony.
The resulting drama serves both
mindsets, while also taking its place alongside top-drawer journalism dramas
such as All the President’s Men and Spotlight (the latter having brought Singer
— also a veteran of TV’s West Wing —
an Academy Award).
The sequence of events taking
place during just a few days in the early summer of 1971 almost defy
credibility. The film opens on a sidebar issue, as Graham prepares for a
presentation to The Washington Post
Company board of directors, in anticipation of raising badly needed capital via
a stock offering when the paper goes public, on June 15.
Streep’s Graham is nervous and
flustered, despite having solid notes prepared with the assistance of longtime
friend and confidant Fritz Beebe (Tracy Letts, nicely understated), a former
Wall Street lawyer and chairman of the board. Even before knowing anything
about this woman, we feel for her; Streep makes her anxiety palpable.
We therefore groan inwardly, when
— her moment having come — she’s too tongue-tied even to speak, and her
carefully prepared details are introduced by Fritz.
This is before Graham learns, a
few days later, that the stock offering could be scuttled by her paper’s
growing involvement in the nation-shattering spat between Richard Nixon and The New York Times: the first time, in
the history of the republic, that a U.S. president has attempted to silence a
national newspaper.
Spielberg’s film progresses
smoothly from the board meeting to the Post
newsroom, where executive editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and his top colleagues
have become convinced that veteran Times
reporter Neil Sheehan, his byline having been absent for awhile, must be
chasing something huge. This suspicion proves accurate on June 13, when Sheehan
begins a series of damning articles about the U.S. involvement in Vietnam.
Sheehan’s source is Daniel
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys), an analyst and activist who, as an employee of the
RAND Corp., had worked on a massive U.S. Department of Defense history of its
activities in Vietnam; he therefore learned of the jaw-dropping degree to which
such activities had been shielded from the public, the press and even other
government entities.
Rhys plays Ellsberg as a quiet,
back-room wonk who simply cannot carry the burden of this knowledge by himself,
and thus becomes a high-level whistle-blower.
(How his activities here are
viewed — alongside those by Edward Snowden and Julian Assange — obviously
depends on which side of the political spectrum one occupies. But there’s an
important distinction in Ellsberg’s case, which isn’t part of this film’s
narrative: He voluntarily surrendered to authorities on June 28, admitted
having leaked the papers to the press, and acknowledged being “prepared to
answer to all the consequences of this decision.”)
Nixon’s response is swift: With
the help of Attorney Gen. John N. Mitchell, a federal court injunction forces The Times to cease publication on June
15, after three articles.
Bradlee, meanwhile, has an ace in
the hole: His assistant manager editor, Ben Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk), recalls
Ellsberg — and particularly his political sensibilities — from their days as
colleagues at RAND. If Ellsberg is the source, and if Bagdikian can track him
down and get him to share the Pentagon study, and if the argument can be made
that the do-not-publish injunction applies solely to The Times...
A lot of “ifs.” Not the least of
which is whether Graham, her attention understandably held by the pending stock
debut, will allow Bradlee to proceed.
For the most part, Spielberg’s
film lacks the late-night, cloak-and-dagger intrigue that scripter William
Goldman delivered so well in 1976’s All
the President’s Men. That said, Spielberg, his scripters and editors Sarah
Broshar and Michael Kahn nonetheless elicit considerable suspense from both
Bagdikian’s investigation, and the clash between fiscal prudence and civic
responsibility that develops between Graham and Bradlee.
The entire situation is far
outside Graham’s comfort zone. Streep portrays her as the ultimate D.C. society
matron, known mostly for hosting lavish parties with high-profile guests, many
of them — notably Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood) — longtime friends.
Traveling down the path that Bradlee encourages would mean betraying people
who’ve shared her dinner table.
Streep radiates worry and
anxiety; we groan (again!) as Graham repeatedly seeks advice from the likes of
Arthur Parsons (Bradley Whitford, suitably arrogant), one of her most
condescending — and conservative — board members. But despite this, we also see
the spark that ignites in Graham’s eyes: initially unnurtured, but never
allowed to wink out completely. This character’s evolution is fascinating.
Hanks, despite his rumpled
exterior, no-nonsense manner and droll Baaas-tun accent, doesn’t give Bradlee
the crusty verisimilitude that Jason Robards brought to the same role, in All the President’s Men (winning an
Oscar in the process). Hanks is a bit too laid-back, and simply doesn’t inspire
as a forceful journalistic crusader.
That said, his numerous exchanges
with Streep’s Graham are thoroughly absorbing, as both actors push, prod,
thrust and parry with details, options and mitigating circumstances.
Hanks also shares a warm and
thoughtful heart-to-heart with Sarah Paulson, well cast as Bradlee’s perceptive
wife, Tony.
The supporting Post newsroom players are solid and
thoroughly credible, starting with Odenkirk’s dogged Bagdikian, and including
David Cross (as Howard Simons), Jessie Mueller (Judith Martin), Philip Casnoff
(Chalmers Roberts), Carrie Coon (Meg Greenfield) and John Rue (Gene Patterson).
Curzon Dobell’s almost off-camera
portrayal of Nixon — glimpsed solely from a distance, via one of the windows
looking into the Oval Office — is an understated hoot, particularly as the
president fulminates ever more aggressively about the pesky press.
Numerous scenes and sequences are
staged in the manner of familiar Spielberg signatures. The most prominent
examples involve the roaring lemonade stand trade enjoyed, at one point, by Ben
and Tony’s savvy young daughter (Austyn Johnson); and the composition of the
crowd assembled when Graham descends the steps leading from the U.S. Supreme
Court, which grants an emergency hearing for The Times injunction.
John Williams’ symphonic score is
thoughtful, understated and — seemingly — sparse ... but that’s deceptive. His themes
develops as subtly and richly as Streep’s performance.
The Post probably won’t have the staying power of All the President’s Men, lacking
high-profile star reporters such as Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman. But the
two films are perfect bookends, particularly since the former concludes — after
Dobell’s Nixon furiously demands that The
Post be barred forever from all White House news and events — with
Watergate Complex security guard Frank Wills (JaQwan J. Kelly), and his
surprise discovery of five late-night intruders within Democratic National
Committee headquarters.
Nixon’s
parting threat here is richly ironic ... and yet another reminder that
über-wealthy Capitol Hill foxes must never, ever
be allowed to guard and control the fragile hen house of democracy.
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