Yesterday, my partner and I decided to do something holiday-ish (Memorial Day) and went out for the traditional dinner and a movie - which is actually unusual for us. Our film selection was Robert Redford's 2010 historical Lincoln-assassination The Conspirator. Critics gave it mixed reviews, but I thought it was great. It's the story of the trial of Mary Surratt, a woman who owned a bordinghouse where, supposedly, the plot to assassinate Lincoln was hatched (her son, John, was a known associate of John Wilkes Booth). She was tried, convicted (on, if we can believe the film, very flimsy evidence), and hanged - the first women to be executed by the US Government, incidentally. There were plenty of other people in the bordinghouse, and it seems she knew something was going on, and yes, it was pretty clear her son was involved (although he, surprisingly, was tried but not convicted - because his trial happened 16 months later, rather than less than a month after the assisination, as his mother's did).
It was fascinating. Besides being pretty cool visually (seemingly realistic, well directed) and artistically (Kevin Kline, Robin Wright, Justin Long as an adorable Civil War cutie), it was a revelatory story. The frenzy of prejudice and desire for blind revenge that gripped the nation was chilling. The story focused on the young lawyer, Frederic Aiken, a Union "war hero" who was asked to defend Mary against his desires. He gets turned around when he realizes how she's being essentially framed because, as a few people in power put it, "someone has to pay."
No matter the person they persecute isn't actually, you know....responsible for the act. I don't understand how that can so consistently be missed. Quite a few characters said things like "Those people don't deserve a trial," forgetting, of course, the most obvious thing of all, which is they aren't those people until after the trial (assuming those people means criminals, and that criminals are a class that should be marginalized, like children, the disabled, and women - which I don't agree with, either).
The parallels between this and the aftermath of 9/11 were undeniable. You didn't even have to expend any brain cells to see the connection, it was so obvious. Mary was a civilian, but was tried at a military tribunal. The evidence was silly. The witnesses were either coered or willing liars. It was an absolute travesty, which was made clear by watching the good upstanding idealistic young lawyer who is eventually sickened by his country's tendency to toss any ideas of freedom and rights (let alone liberty) out the window the second they (we) feel threatened.
The film's final "what happened after that" supertitles made a point of mentioning that later, the Supreme Court ruled that the trial of civilians before a military tribunal was unconstitutional. I wanted to see an additional statistic - how many civilians have been tried via (secret) military tribunals since 1865, and how many of those have happened in the last decade. I tried but failed to find this information online. Kind of scary, and rather, depressing stuff; this needs to at least be on everyone's radar.
I like films like this because they are political and speak to truths in a way that other information - in this age of information glut, of the degradation of traditional news sources (like, say, The New York Times), of rampant misinformation, films have a sort of widespread and immediate appeal that makes them an easy way to understand what's going on. And - they are entertaining.
The film was made by The American Film Company; here's what Wikipedia has to say about them:
Founded on the belief that real life is often more compelling than fiction, The American Film Company produces feature films about incredible, true stories from America's past. Central to the company's filmmaking will be prominent historians, assuring that each production remains true to the history from which it is drawn.
Entrepreneur and online brokerage pioneer, Joe Ricketts, founded The American Film Company in 2008 with executives Alfred Levitt, Brian Falk, Robert Stone, and Webster Stone.
I had no idea this company existed, but it sounds pretty good. Certainly, yesterday's film was something that should be out there. I mean, we already believe film. We see it, and we think it's true. How many people picture Jesse Eisenberg when they are thinking of Mark Zuckerberg, or Julia Roberts when they think of Erin Brochovich. It's probably not good for us collectively but there it is.
Luckily, while I'm writing, my partner is watching The Colbert Report and it makes me think that, at least when I'm thinking of Stephen Colbert, I'm also picturing Stephen Colbert. Whew - once again he brings some sanity.
It was fascinating. Besides being pretty cool visually (seemingly realistic, well directed) and artistically (Kevin Kline, Robin Wright, Justin Long as an adorable Civil War cutie), it was a revelatory story. The frenzy of prejudice and desire for blind revenge that gripped the nation was chilling. The story focused on the young lawyer, Frederic Aiken, a Union "war hero" who was asked to defend Mary against his desires. He gets turned around when he realizes how she's being essentially framed because, as a few people in power put it, "someone has to pay."
No matter the person they persecute isn't actually, you know....responsible for the act. I don't understand how that can so consistently be missed. Quite a few characters said things like "Those people don't deserve a trial," forgetting, of course, the most obvious thing of all, which is they aren't those people until after the trial (assuming those people means criminals, and that criminals are a class that should be marginalized, like children, the disabled, and women - which I don't agree with, either).
The parallels between this and the aftermath of 9/11 were undeniable. You didn't even have to expend any brain cells to see the connection, it was so obvious. Mary was a civilian, but was tried at a military tribunal. The evidence was silly. The witnesses were either coered or willing liars. It was an absolute travesty, which was made clear by watching the good upstanding idealistic young lawyer who is eventually sickened by his country's tendency to toss any ideas of freedom and rights (let alone liberty) out the window the second they (we) feel threatened.
The film's final "what happened after that" supertitles made a point of mentioning that later, the Supreme Court ruled that the trial of civilians before a military tribunal was unconstitutional. I wanted to see an additional statistic - how many civilians have been tried via (secret) military tribunals since 1865, and how many of those have happened in the last decade. I tried but failed to find this information online. Kind of scary, and rather, depressing stuff; this needs to at least be on everyone's radar.
I like films like this because they are political and speak to truths in a way that other information - in this age of information glut, of the degradation of traditional news sources (like, say, The New York Times), of rampant misinformation, films have a sort of widespread and immediate appeal that makes them an easy way to understand what's going on. And - they are entertaining.
The film was made by The American Film Company; here's what Wikipedia has to say about them:
Founded on the belief that real life is often more compelling than fiction, The American Film Company produces feature films about incredible, true stories from America's past. Central to the company's filmmaking will be prominent historians, assuring that each production remains true to the history from which it is drawn.
Entrepreneur and online brokerage pioneer, Joe Ricketts, founded The American Film Company in 2008 with executives Alfred Levitt, Brian Falk, Robert Stone, and Webster Stone.
I had no idea this company existed, but it sounds pretty good. Certainly, yesterday's film was something that should be out there. I mean, we already believe film. We see it, and we think it's true. How many people picture Jesse Eisenberg when they are thinking of Mark Zuckerberg, or Julia Roberts when they think of Erin Brochovich. It's probably not good for us collectively but there it is.
Luckily, while I'm writing, my partner is watching The Colbert Report and it makes me think that, at least when I'm thinking of Stephen Colbert, I'm also picturing Stephen Colbert. Whew - once again he brings some sanity.
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