All the Way (Movie Review by Bob Racine)

2 hrs & 11 min, color, 2017

Historical turning points have always attracted film makers.  Especially is this true of political turning points, those in which a shift in legislative or judicial fiat drastically changes the temper of the nation or alters the perceived moral compass by which that nation is guided.  “All the Way” (this title lifted from a campaign slogan of Lyndon Johnson’s ( “All the way with LBJ”) has to do with events of the 1960s into which Johnson was catapulted upon the tragic death of John F. Kennedy.  It is about him and how he came to terms with a complicated set of pressures for change, most notably the pressure of racial demands launched by the Civil Rights Movement under the leadership of Dr. Martin Luther King and the unfinished business of the Civil Rights bill that Kennedy had introduced in Congress.  As the shrewd metaphorical phrase would have it, Johnson really “had his work cut out for him” even before he was sworn in to the office.  

Though the movie is not a masterpiece, it does reach a considerable height of excellence in the portrayal of the man by Bryan Cranston.  He won a Tony for his stage performance and an Emmy for this television adaptation in which he reprises the role.  At this point it is inconceivable to me that any other actor would ever again attempt to fill this demanding assignment.  After all, Johnson is not an easy subject to get right.  How could anyone else begin to approach the quality of the work that Cranston turns out, wherein he treats the man as quite human in a variety of particulars.  He is a person of sometimes thunderous speech and at other times he is soft spoken as he wrestles with personal anxiety and fear, and at still other times he is a coarse and blatant humorist.  He did not hesitate to use intimidation and threat to bend people to his political will.  Sometimes he could be a sulky childish complainer. Those who worked under him learned to be cautious about offending him.  The way Cranston portrays him one never knows what to expect from moment to moment.  There is not the slightest suggestion of a formula, but every facet hangs together and grinds together to make the man unforgettable.

The screenplay does not by any means overlook the misguided decision Johnson made sending in troops to respond to the Gulf of Tonkin incident and unleashing a major war from which our country has not yet fully recovered after five succeeding decades.  That decision is portrayed as something he made hurriedly while enmeshed in the Civil Rights issue, giving no careful thought to what it would entail.  Johnson died in 1973, only four years after leaving office, and it has been reported that he regretted his move long before his decision not to run again for the office was announced.  I suspect it weighed so heavily upon him that it must have served to shorten his life.  But he takes full credit for getting the Civil Rights legislation through Congress.  One wonders if anyone else, including Kennedy could have done as much.

Underneath all his brashness and seeming self-assurance we know he is aware that to be the leader of his country he must soothe many fears, compromise with many a seeming opponent, and he is toughened enough by his previous experience in politics to know how hard it is to make permanent friends.  You are always in the limelight with many eyes watching you and waiting to shoot you down as soon as you make a blunder.  No president has ever had a more difficult row to hoe than he had, with the southern Democrats counting on him to uphold the Jim Crow standard and so many northern moderates, Republican and Democrat, black and white, looking for him to make courageous decisions for change on their behalf, especially with regard to education.

But there is much more to recommend “All the Way” than one actor’s work.  There are crucial characters who are also quite admirably portrayed by some top talent.  One fellow southerner he had to tangle with was Dick Russell, Senator from Georgia, who was quite opposed to the Civil Rights bill, portrayed with quiet aplomb by Frank Langella; he is my choice for the best supporting work in this narrative.  His spoken words are spare, but he delivers himself in good understated form.  And Johnson’  wife Lady Bird comes to full life with the talent of Melissa Leo.  She rings true in every scene in which she appears.  

Actress Aisha Hinds has a cameo as Fannie Lou Hamer, an African American woman who was cruelly assaulted and beaten by a gang of local law enforcers in Mississippi for daring to inquire about what she had to do to register to vote.  This shocking incident is related in detail by her with words to a camera; an explicit portrayal of it would not have been any more shocking.  Hamer played a huge part in making the despotic extremes of southern racism vivid, even if Johnson saw fit to preempt her when on the air for fear it would alienate too many whose votes he needed.  The film does not tell you, but she became a major leader in the Civil Rights Movement.  She was an American Votings Rights activist, a philanthropist who worked primarily in Mississippi. She was instrumental in organizing Mississippi’s Freedom Summer for the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and she was the vice-chair of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, which she represented at the 1964 Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City, New Jersey.  Her life would be a bold and vital subject for a movie within itself.  Check her out on line and you will see.

Bradley Whitford does a substantial job of portraying Hubert Humphrey, who catered to Johnson in search of a Vice Presidential appointment; he even bears a slight resemblance to Humphrey.  Stokeley Carmichael, Roy Wilkins and Ralph Abernathy show up in fine fettle at the hands of Mo McRae, Jo Morton and Dohn Norwood respectively.  They have a scene unto themselves in which the divided attitudes toward Johnson and what course of action his Presidency calls for them to take are incisively brought to light.  

And of course there is Anthony Mackie stepping into the shoes of Martin Luther King.  His work is good enough for a supporting role, though not as forceful as was David Oyelowo in “Selma” a few years back.  But mention of him brings to mind a disappointment I have with the film, when considered from one critical angle.  The mere two hours and eleven minute running time short changes so many people whose portrayal in finer depth would have made for a more thorough, engrossing and educational experience.  But the script revolves around Johnson, and it is satisfying to note that he is not whitewashed in the least.  

Cranston carries things quite admirably.  Jay Roach, sixty years of age, is the director of this work.  He and Cranston have collaborated before on the 2015 bio pic “Trumbo”, which I favorably reviewed last year, and I credit him in part for getting this performance out of Cranston.  I should think they know each other’s work habits and methodologies well enough by now to make a first class team.  And a favorable word should be addressed to Jim Denault for his imaginative camera work.  Under his fluid and guiding hand this becomes a genuine movie, not a mere filming of a stage work.  

The author of both the play and this screenplay adaptation is Robert Schenkkan, an award winning writer who has been active in theater and screen work for many years.  His dialogue is tough and keen-edged; it meets the challenge of writing for recent historical figures whose behind-the-scenes remarks and conversations are not a matter of record.  Not an easy assignment!  I think the most revealing words he puts into Johnson’s mouth are the following: “People think I want great power, but what I want is solace”.  One who endures the flames and arrows of outrageous Presidential fortune could crave no less.   

To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To know about me, consult the autobiographical entry on the website for Dec. 5, 2016.