Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Insider (Movie Review by Bob Racine)



          2 hrs & 37 min, color, 1999

The making of a docudrama is quite a challenge.  I am speaking of a true story that demonstrates the old adage that fact can be, if not stranger than fiction, then at least as amazing and startling.  There are of course those movies that purport to be true but are little more than contrived tributes to factual persons or groups of persons.  This is especially the case when the tale told is cast in the form of a musical.  Al Jolson, Eddie Duchin, Glenn Miller, and the composing team of Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby, and several other show biz figures, have had the supposed stories of their lives emblazoned on the screen, but dig a little and you will find that at least 90% of the details portrayed come from the fertile mind of a Hollywood scriptwriter.  All of these above showy productions took great liberties in cleaning up the person’s act, making sure they came out smelling sweet for a family audience.  But just Google any one of them, and you will see just how phony the whole shebang really is.  “Based on the life of - !”  So the credits read.  Those two little words, “based on,” can mean nothing more than a faint suggestion of what might have been fact, if only, or what we would like to believe was fact.

A docudrama is something else.  It is a serious and concentrated attempt to tell the unvarnished truth about a living or historical subject or event.  It is not created in order to sell anything; it is not propaganda.  See how the word breaks down: docu - drama!  It falls somewhere between a newsy documentary and an entertaining but serious depiction.  A documentary is concerned with facts; a docudrama is concerned with truth.  It is an attempt at least to get at the truth by way of the facts.  Scenes and even characters are created out of the screen writer’s imagination “for dramatic purposes.”  But no attempt is made to clean up the undesirable elements.  Dialogue more inspired than the conversation that actually occurred can heighten the salient points in a historical reenactment.  These additions can give clearer definition to what was at stake in the course of events under examination. 

In my estimation “The Insider,” released in 1999, is a superb example of how to do it right, with honesty and integrity and with first rate film-making skill.  (“All the President’s Men” from 1976 is another.)  The quality screenplay, adapted from Marie Brenner’s Vanity Fair article “The Man Who Knew Too Much” is the work of Eric Roth and Michael Mann under Mann’s firm direction.  Russell Crowe plays Jeff Wigand, the biological chemist hired by the Brown and Williamson Tobacco Company (manufacturer of Philip Morris Cigarettes) who, after he was fired, blew the whistle on the company’s insidious process of deliberately enhancing the addictive effect of its product.  He did this by way of an interview with Mike Wallace (Christopher Plummer) on 60 Minutes in 1996, thereby taking the bold step of violating his severance agreement not to talk.  At first he resists opening his mouth to anyone in keeping with that gag order, but when Brown and Williamson starts tracking his every move and spying on him and attempting to add more severe conditions to the agreement, ones that are threatening to his wife and two little girls, he changes his mind and begins corresponding with CBS program supervisor Lowell Bergman (Al Pacino) and soon agrees to the interview with Wallace, after which his troubles and heartaches are just beginning.   

Oddly enough, it is not just the tobacco industry and its underhanded behavior that is scrutinized so much in this tense probe, but also television journalism itself and its ethical quandaries.  It seems that Bergman’s enrolling of Wigand into telling all gets him entangled in a dilemma of his own.  The top officials of the network balk at running the expose, once filmed, for fear of being sued by Wigand’s former employer.  When the other news people besides Bergman concur in the decision, thereby leaving Wigand hung out to dry, Bergman must use his wits to get the decision reversed and save Wigand from total despair, his marriage having already failed.   After the full interview is broadcast, Wigand is gratified to know that his children are able to learn why he had put them through all that crisis.  He then became a high school chemistry teacher, a job that led to other opportunities.

Questions are raised that defy easy answers – about free speech and privileged communication.  And they are handled in good taste, with excellent pacing.  The film may run a full two and a half hours, but it is inconceivable to me that any caring person would be bored.  Every scene without exception is gripping; there are no drags or lags.  And after fifteen years it remains quite relevant and contemporary.  We are still hearing much about the subject of tobacco’s addictive power and about efforts to lobby Congress to increase the excise tax on this product.  A recent editorial in the Washington Post took issue with those who feel that we should just let the long time smokers smoke themselves to death and concentrate on saving the younger crowd.  It maintained that lung cancer is a very real danger.  It kills people by very slow degrees.  My own father was “lucky” in that he was dead within less than three months after he was diagnosed.  Most victims are not so “lucky.”  When Humphrey Bogart was watched lighting up with his leading ladies in all those movies he made during the 1940s, few people knew at the time that those weeds were killing him.  He finally died a very horrible death in 1957.  If anyone wants to know how horrible, just let them read Lauren Bacall’s autobiography.  The good news:  Recent polls have shown that while in the 1950s a full half of the U.S. population were smokers, today less than one fifth are.  But the push stays on for reducing that figure far more.  And we all know now that smokers have become a segregated minority in public with smoke free public places. How sweet it is!  Wigand enjoys his share of the credit for that.

The movie benefits from three strong male performances, each one a sturdy example of the acting craft. 

Christopher Plummer does not attempt to imitate Mike Wallace’s manner of speech or reconstruct his personality.  Such an attempt would have been a fool’s errand.  But he does capture the man’s tenacity and unapologetic attack mode, smartly and cogently.  You can hear the spirit of the man at work, and that is enough.  The character we see can cut someone down in a few words when he picks up the scent of mendacity.  Plummer must have spent many hours watching footage of Wallace doing his thing.  Great supporting work!

Russell Crowe is magnificent in the shoes of Wigand.  He brings a lot of vulnerability and snap and controlled fury to the part.  The character he embodies can be a bit fast on the draw, but he can also seethe until tempered by the input of calmer individuals.  According to reports from those at the CBS network who have seen the film, his interpretation of Wigand is quite accurate.  This remains in my opinion his best work on screen.  Only “A Beautiful Mind” would compete for the honor.

Al Pacino as Bergman comes forth with another of his brassy, take-charge, no-nonsense depictions, combining sincerity and dedication to the art of journalism with the voice of rationality amidst pending calamity.  No one else I know of could handle that better.  His scenes with Crowe are letter perfect and tone perfect, two vastly different warriors trying to find a common strategy.  

Though her part is quite small, I need to put in a word for Diane Venora, who plays Wigand’s wife.  She does a splendid job, bringing her share of heart to the picture.  One of the most stirring moments is the one in which she announces to her husband that she is leaving him.  She does not stage an uproarious scene; she just simply confesses to him, meekly and tearfully, that “I don’t think I can do this.”  She knows she should stick with him, that a wife’s place is at her husband’s side in a crisis, but she has to back out.  This confession follows a death threat which she herself has read on their e-mail.  A little too much for her! 

There are many memorable moments of confrontation in this masterpiece.  I have seen it about a half a dozen times, and I hope to again.  It is easy enough to obtain from Netflix.


To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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