Tuesday 25 February 2020

Richard Jewell (2020) - Movie Review



I find myself in a bit of an awkward position with this one. This is another one of those situations where, while watching the film and as I left the cinema, I found myself quite liking what I just saw, even if I could definitely see some flaws with it. But in-between that point and sitting down to write this review, that opinion has… changed. It has soured. It has gotten to the stage where I feel like I have some fire in my belly about this film, who made it, and what purpose it ultimately serves. Not gonna lie, I’m going for the throat with this one because I am not happy.

But before getting into the ugly shit, let’s be fair and get into what this film gets right. Namely, the casting. Paul Walter Hauser is an actor who immediately landed on my radar as a result of his production-stealing performance in I, Tonya, and this feels like not only the lead role he outright deserves, but the kind of role I honestly can’t picture anyone else being able to pull off. At once affable, awkward and incredibly passionate about his work, his turn in the title role is fucking incredible. Clint Eastwood has been making bank on these kinds of real-life, hero-against-the-masses characters for a while now, and that experience bears serious fruit in the form of this mistreated and pure soul.

Ditto for Sam Rockwell as his lawyer/best friend, whose introductory scenes of him and Richard bonding over Snickers bars and arcade cabinets did a pretty damn good job of getting me on-side with these two right out of the gate. Then there’s Kathy Bates, an even greater innocent in this story than even Richard himself, whose sheer heartbreak and anguish over the whole sorry situation really rings through and gives the film a lot of emotional oomph.

Then there’s the direction and sound design, particularly in capturing the Centennial Park bombing that made Richard Jewell a media sensation. It carries the same comradely touch as Sully in how it shows Richard collaborating with his fellow officers to keep things calm while getting as many people out of the blast radius as possible. The real-time pacing of the scene, combined with the rather low-key approach to the tone and dialogue, makes for a very effective depiction of the crucial moment that the rest of the story revolves around. Or, at least, so we are meant to believe.

What I said before about the casting? Yeah, aside from those central three, the rest of it is pretty… I can’t even say bad as much as it’s all in service to the film’s more pointed motivations. Starting with Olivia Wilde as journalist Kathy Scruggs, in a performance that has landed her and the production at large in hot water for its treatment of this real-life figure. And yeah, even before it gets to the more sexualised moments, as soon as she turns up in-frame, there is an instant impression that this isn’t a real person. This isn’t even the facsimile of a real person. This is a strawman with a dripping red target painted on it.

However, I’d argue that her characterisation is only a symptom of the far bigger problem with this whole production, and it again links back to Eastwood’s more recent string of based-on-actual-event dramas. Like with American Sniper, Sully, and to a lesser extent 15:17 To Paris and The Mule, Richard Jewell is the story of a flawed but ultimately good man who has to justify their own morality in the face of people the audience are quite clearly meant to hate. The main character is given all the raw honesty and compassion that can be mustered, while everyone else gets table scraps, if even that much. Wilde’s Scruggs, Jon Hamm’s composite FBI agent, and every single member of the media mob that swarms in on the Jewells’ home, are written to be in the wrong and Clint has no qualms in making that as clear as possible.

And in a way, I can kind of understand this approach. Beyond Eastwood’s more politicized methods as a filmmaker, I mean. His vision of the story of Richard Jewell is essentially a large-font screed against the mass media, fake news and, most pointedly, ‘cancel culture’. This review is already going on for longer than I anticipated so, in lieu of a lengthy breakdown of that last topic in detail, let’s just say that when it comes to the guillotine of the social media age, there’s room for commentary. There’s room for examination. There’s room for admitting that innocents get caught in the crossfire, while still acknowledging that there are substantive cultural and geopolitical reasons for such things happening. There’s room for depicting the story of a wrongfully accused man that allows everyone involved to keep their humanity, not just the people the filmmaker believes we should wholly agree with. But that’s not the movie we get.

Instead, we basically get an extended soapbox moment for Eastwood to rant and rave about the injustice of it all, oversimplifying everything from the people involved to the larger events that informed them to the point where it becomes a lie via omission. It’s a film about the cruelty of character assassination, but only in the case of one character; everyone else is just collateral damage.

Quite frankly, I have no kind words towards that kind of propagandist bullshit, and honestly, the effective characterisation of Richard Jewell on-screen only makes that even worse. He’s shown as someone who knows his way around the penal code, who holds his own against the media shitstorm, and even in the face of being interrogated for something he didn’t do, he still holds onto his belief that the American justice system is the way it is for a reason. He doesn’t dwell in bombastic self-righteousness because he understands the system and holds onto his respect for the works of the law. I don’t even agree with him on all of that, but because of how he is depicted, warts and all, I at least understand his viewpoint.

In short, he comes across like the kind of person who would probably take issue with his life story being contorted to blast off at everyone who wanted him convicted, showing a level of bloody-mindedness that Richard himself actively abstains from.

And because of that, I’m not happy with it either. It made me care about Richard Jewell’s plight, and it certainly delivered as a breakout starring role for Paul Walter Hauser, but that only made me realise that he deserved better than this shit. Hell, considering its thematic similarities to Eastwood’s more recent work, it might have even crossed that Wonder Wheel line and made me realise just how much I do not like this man’s sensibilities as a filmmaker. This is a hypocritical, agenda-fuelled and ultimately kind of contemptable production, and a showing of Eastwood’s artistry at its ugliest.

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