NewWorld

Mr Murrow’s
story

by John Touhey

GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK
George Clooney, Director
Warner Independent
PG / 93 min.

TV news has not been treated kindly in the movies. Films like Network and Broadcast News have portrayed the format as a joke, even a threat to the nation. As if to balance the scales, actor/director George Clooney has made Good Night and Good Luck a paean to television journalism at its most idealistic moment.
Edward R. Murrow, the hero of the film, captivated the American public with his riveting front-line radio broadcasts during World War II. When he returned to the States after the war, Murrow became a pioneer in the new medium of TV, along with his producer, Fred Friendly. Murrow was soon recognized as a trailblazer, not just for his innovative techniques like on-the-scene reports and split-screen interviews, but also for his choice of subject matter. While other news programs stuck to dry readings of the day’s headlines, Murrow’s See it Now dealt with timely and controversial topics like civil rights, poverty, and nuclear war. When, in 1953, Murrow decided to take on Senator Joseph McCarthy and his anti-Communist crusade, the newscaster soon found himself in a grim battle for his career. Good Night and Good Luck tells the story of this conflict.
The plot is terse and to the point, as if mimicking the onscreen delivery of its protagonist. For a movie about such a tumultuous event, there is surprisingly little tension or suspense. This is partly because the blustering Senator McCarthy is seen only on television screens, in actual footage from the period. Also, the plot sticks to the professional lives of its characters, with the briefest glimpse of their private struggles. The camera seldom leaves the confines of the CBS news headquarters in New York City. (It is interesting that there isn’t a single exterior shot in the film.) As a result, the ending is somewhat anticlimactic, because we have been given little in the characters to relate to or care about. These choices seem to be deliberate, as if Clooney were less concerned with internal conflict than with the clash of ideals and principals. What comes across clearly is Murrow’s passionate desire to use the powerful medium of television as something more than an instrument of entertainment and diversion–for education, confrontation, and debate. In this, Murrow would ultimately be disappointed. Shortly after his series of McCarthy programs, CBS pulled See it Now from the air.
George Clooney keeps the script and direction lean and focused. There isn’t a lot of extraneous business onscreen, yet our attention never wanes. David Strathairn’s performance as Edward R. Murrow is similarly restrained. His Murrow is an enigma with occasional flashes of humor and humanity. Clooney has put together a fine ensemble to portray Murrow’s colleagues. Ray Wise is particularly good as a troubled news anchor. The black and white cinematography of Robert Elswit has been deliberately overexposed in many scenes, evoking the look of early TV kinescopes. Elswit uses lots of smoke to create mood–by necessity, since Murrow was a notorious chain-smoker, even while he was on the air. During the film, you may find yourself reaching for an ashtray rather than your popcorn.
One weakness of Good Night and Good Luck is its soundtrack. Dominated by various 50’s tunes that Clooney selected to both slyly comment on and play against the action, this kind of thing has been so overdone in films that we are numb to the effect now. On a more serious note, this unabashedly liberal film suffers from a lack of historical context. Viewers unfamiliar with the Cold War period may feel lost, and there is no sense of the gravity of the conflict between East and West.
Good Night and Good Luck is not really about the intricacies of a particular historical incident, however. The film is book ended by a speech Murrow gave at a tribute dinner, in which he excoriates his colleagues and the public for their collective complacency and urges them to demand more from the mass media. It does not come across as a bitter diatribe, but as a provocative manifesto challenging the shallowness of today’s culture.