Saturday, February 6, 2010

Nothing But The Truth



Nothing But The Truth is a fictionalized retelling of the Judith Miller/Valerie Plame case. It diverges from the real-life counterpart in a number of ways - this one opens with an assassination attempt on the President, which is believed to be conducted by the Venezuelan government. So the U.S. bombs the shit out of Venezuela in retribution. However, a lone CIA agent went to Venezuela and found out that they weren't actually responsible. Kate Beckinsale's character, the heroine of the story, is a reporter working for a major paper who somehow gets wind of the CIA agent's identity and her findings via two sources she refuses to name, and when her story runs the Federal government swoops down on her, declares the identity of the leakers a matter of "national security", and jails her.

Of course, in real life, Judith Miller (the jailed journalist in the Plame/Libby affair) had a reputation prior to her jailing as being a frequently inaccurate and sensationalist reporter, while Beckinsale's character is basically written as a straight upstanding heroine and family woman. Miller spent less than three months in jail then was free to leave and do million-dollar book deals, while Beckinsale's character is hounded by a hard-ass Federal prosecutor (played well by Matt Dillon) who seems intent on breaking her by first leaving her in jail for a year, then immediately slapping her with a criminal contempt charge minutes after a sympathetic judge finally lets her go.

This sets up almost something of a softcore "chicks in chains" flick element, as the soft yuppie Beckinsale character gets thrown into the jail with the petty criminal masses. The jail scenes are done pretty well and not overplayed; the film stays within the bounds of reality without going into Oz-like morbid voyeur fantasy of gang rapes in the shower and constant beatings. Beckinsale does end up getting her ass kicked once, but it's believable, and she isn't singled out as "not belonging", which I appreciate that the director/writer chose not to play up (in a real jail/prison or similar institution, most people don't want any trouble and mind their business, they don't care overmuch who anyone else is or why they are there. All that "fresh meat" stuff is an invention of pulpy, irresponsible Hollywood writers.) Her life also gradually falls apart as her slobby douchebag husband begins having an affair only months after she's been imprisoned, and her relationship with her kid becomes strained since she doesn't want him coming to see her in prison.

So ultimately the story is more of a character drama than it really is about principles and the importance of a shield law for journalists. There's an impassioned speech thrown in by Alan Alda's defense lawyer character near the end of the film, seemingly added as an afterthough at the last minute to at least have some sort of content addressing what is supposed to be the central issue of the film, but really it winds up more like a feminist film as it focuses on Beckinsale's character - will she Stay Stron as the sentence stretches on and everyone close to her either abandons her or forgets about her? Will she overcome the overbearing hyper-masculine Federal prosecutor, who is almost metaphorically like an angry engorged penis constantly thrusting at her until she capitulates?

I thought film critic MaryAnn Johanson summarized this movie best when she said "It’s hard to put a finger on anything actually wrong with this earnest drama of politics, conscience, and democratic ideals ... but it’s equally difficult to embrace it enthusiastically, too." The one thing I would add/change about that is that there is actually one thing you can put your finger on to explain why the film isn't as engaging/gripping as it should be, given the strong performances, decent dialogue and cinematography, and fairly intelligent plot and writing - it's the fact that the story just has too many hard-to-swallow bits to it.

These can't really be discussed without a SPOILER ALERT, including one that ruins the films "big reveal" at the very end, so here's a separate paragraph for them.

The biggest issue I had with it is that Beckinsale's character is played basically as a straight put-upon heroine, but she makes ethical choices that are shaky when looked at from an angle that the film doesn't choose to, and it could have been much deeper if it did. The first and largest problem is her primary source, which is at the tail end revealed to be - SPOILER WARNING again - the 7-year-old daughter of the CIA agent, who unwittingly revealed her mother's identity while chatting with Beckinsale on a school field trip (their kids go to school together - another interesting and convenient coincidence.) Beckinsale seems to think nothing of using the girl as a primary source for her story, though she refuses to reveal her identity to anyone, even her editor. She gets a corroborating source by questioning the VP's Chief of Staff while he's drunk, but she never reveals the primary source even to her editor. Not only is it hard to believe the editor of a major paper would accept that arrangement on a story this big, it's also extremely questionable journalistic ethics to use a kid that young as a primary source. Use the info she gave you as a launchpad to find a better primary source? Sure, that's acceptable journalism. Using the kid herself but then refusing to name her to absolutely anyone comes across as not only possibly predatory, but just plain dumb. There also appears to be little reason to protect the kid as the film wears on - she can't be prosecuted, it likely won't be a traumatic thing for her (no more traumatic than having her mother murdered, which happens as a result of Beckinsale's refusal to talk), yet Beckinsale doggedly refuses to the end. Why? If it's just about principle, as she claims, where was that same principle when she used the kid as a source in the first place? Is it a feminist battle of wills with the hard-on macho prosecutor who is opressing her? Or does she just want to protect herself from having to admit she used a 7-year-old as a primary source? All the possibilities come off as kind of stupid, but the latter would have at least cast an interesting morally ambiguous slant on the character, but the film makes it pretty clear we're supposed to regard her as a Hero for Standing Up For Her Principles Against All Odds. Frankly, you almost feel a little insulted at the end, like you just watched a propaganda flick.

SPOILERS OFF

The movie apparently had trouble getting funding and ended up being a direct-to-video release, though the quality level is far beyond that of what you usually expect from DTV - it seemed more like studios didn't want to fund a political movie about a somewhat outdated issue rather than they didn't want to fund it because the movie was bad. And it's not bad, far from it. But you end up wishing they'd done more with what they had on hand to work with.

No comments:

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Nothing But The Truth



Nothing But The Truth is a fictionalized retelling of the Judith Miller/Valerie Plame case. It diverges from the real-life counterpart in a number of ways - this one opens with an assassination attempt on the President, which is believed to be conducted by the Venezuelan government. So the U.S. bombs the shit out of Venezuela in retribution. However, a lone CIA agent went to Venezuela and found out that they weren't actually responsible. Kate Beckinsale's character, the heroine of the story, is a reporter working for a major paper who somehow gets wind of the CIA agent's identity and her findings via two sources she refuses to name, and when her story runs the Federal government swoops down on her, declares the identity of the leakers a matter of "national security", and jails her.

Of course, in real life, Judith Miller (the jailed journalist in the Plame/Libby affair) had a reputation prior to her jailing as being a frequently inaccurate and sensationalist reporter, while Beckinsale's character is basically written as a straight upstanding heroine and family woman. Miller spent less than three months in jail then was free to leave and do million-dollar book deals, while Beckinsale's character is hounded by a hard-ass Federal prosecutor (played well by Matt Dillon) who seems intent on breaking her by first leaving her in jail for a year, then immediately slapping her with a criminal contempt charge minutes after a sympathetic judge finally lets her go.

This sets up almost something of a softcore "chicks in chains" flick element, as the soft yuppie Beckinsale character gets thrown into the jail with the petty criminal masses. The jail scenes are done pretty well and not overplayed; the film stays within the bounds of reality without going into Oz-like morbid voyeur fantasy of gang rapes in the shower and constant beatings. Beckinsale does end up getting her ass kicked once, but it's believable, and she isn't singled out as "not belonging", which I appreciate that the director/writer chose not to play up (in a real jail/prison or similar institution, most people don't want any trouble and mind their business, they don't care overmuch who anyone else is or why they are there. All that "fresh meat" stuff is an invention of pulpy, irresponsible Hollywood writers.) Her life also gradually falls apart as her slobby douchebag husband begins having an affair only months after she's been imprisoned, and her relationship with her kid becomes strained since she doesn't want him coming to see her in prison.

So ultimately the story is more of a character drama than it really is about principles and the importance of a shield law for journalists. There's an impassioned speech thrown in by Alan Alda's defense lawyer character near the end of the film, seemingly added as an afterthough at the last minute to at least have some sort of content addressing what is supposed to be the central issue of the film, but really it winds up more like a feminist film as it focuses on Beckinsale's character - will she Stay Stron as the sentence stretches on and everyone close to her either abandons her or forgets about her? Will she overcome the overbearing hyper-masculine Federal prosecutor, who is almost metaphorically like an angry engorged penis constantly thrusting at her until she capitulates?

I thought film critic MaryAnn Johanson summarized this movie best when she said "It’s hard to put a finger on anything actually wrong with this earnest drama of politics, conscience, and democratic ideals ... but it’s equally difficult to embrace it enthusiastically, too." The one thing I would add/change about that is that there is actually one thing you can put your finger on to explain why the film isn't as engaging/gripping as it should be, given the strong performances, decent dialogue and cinematography, and fairly intelligent plot and writing - it's the fact that the story just has too many hard-to-swallow bits to it.

These can't really be discussed without a SPOILER ALERT, including one that ruins the films "big reveal" at the very end, so here's a separate paragraph for them.

The biggest issue I had with it is that Beckinsale's character is played basically as a straight put-upon heroine, but she makes ethical choices that are shaky when looked at from an angle that the film doesn't choose to, and it could have been much deeper if it did. The first and largest problem is her primary source, which is at the tail end revealed to be - SPOILER WARNING again - the 7-year-old daughter of the CIA agent, who unwittingly revealed her mother's identity while chatting with Beckinsale on a school field trip (their kids go to school together - another interesting and convenient coincidence.) Beckinsale seems to think nothing of using the girl as a primary source for her story, though she refuses to reveal her identity to anyone, even her editor. She gets a corroborating source by questioning the VP's Chief of Staff while he's drunk, but she never reveals the primary source even to her editor. Not only is it hard to believe the editor of a major paper would accept that arrangement on a story this big, it's also extremely questionable journalistic ethics to use a kid that young as a primary source. Use the info she gave you as a launchpad to find a better primary source? Sure, that's acceptable journalism. Using the kid herself but then refusing to name her to absolutely anyone comes across as not only possibly predatory, but just plain dumb. There also appears to be little reason to protect the kid as the film wears on - she can't be prosecuted, it likely won't be a traumatic thing for her (no more traumatic than having her mother murdered, which happens as a result of Beckinsale's refusal to talk), yet Beckinsale doggedly refuses to the end. Why? If it's just about principle, as she claims, where was that same principle when she used the kid as a source in the first place? Is it a feminist battle of wills with the hard-on macho prosecutor who is opressing her? Or does she just want to protect herself from having to admit she used a 7-year-old as a primary source? All the possibilities come off as kind of stupid, but the latter would have at least cast an interesting morally ambiguous slant on the character, but the film makes it pretty clear we're supposed to regard her as a Hero for Standing Up For Her Principles Against All Odds. Frankly, you almost feel a little insulted at the end, like you just watched a propaganda flick.

SPOILERS OFF

The movie apparently had trouble getting funding and ended up being a direct-to-video release, though the quality level is far beyond that of what you usually expect from DTV - it seemed more like studios didn't want to fund a political movie about a somewhat outdated issue rather than they didn't want to fund it because the movie was bad. And it's not bad, far from it. But you end up wishing they'd done more with what they had on hand to work with.

No comments: