Rapid Response: Young Mr. Lincoln

Henry Fonda plays Abraham Lincoln as a young lawyer in Springfield in John Ford’s 1939 classic.

220px-Youngmrlincoln“You’re crazy! I can’t play Lincoln. That’s like playing God, to me.” Henry Fonda said in a 1975 interview that he only played Abraham Lincoln because John Ford (who else) “shamed” him into doing it. “You think it’s The Great Emancipator huh? He’s a young, jack-legged lawyer from Springfield for Christ sake!”

We certainly do have this revered image of our 16th President, and yet the two biggest actors who have played him, Fonda and more recently Daniel Day Lewis, both played Lincoln with a sort of laid back aplomb. In their performances they made Lincoln into a great man by separating him from the esteem and the myth.

In “Young Mr. Lincoln,” which Ford cranked out in his seminal year of 1939 alongside “Stagecoach” and “Drums Along the Mohawk,” it’s immediately apparent that the image of Lincoln that Ford is going for differs from that of the stuffy politicians and bourgeois speaking in grand statements. He’s a proletariat homeboy who spoke calmly and plainly and won over the nation through his clear, honest demeanor and homespun wisdom.

Much of that credit certainly belongs to Fonda. Instantly he gives Lincoln a humble, trustworthy presence. It’s all in his tall and lanky body language. He leans on doorways and railings not unlike the iconic stooped perch he musters in Ford’s “My Darling Clementine, his poise and shoulders are lax, casual and he never has the need to truly boast or raise his voice. Look at one scene in which Lincoln, practicing as a young lawyer in Springfield, convinces two men who both want damages from the other to settle their case. He acts as though he’s telling them a story and lesson before revealing that he’s good at cracking heads, his eyes turning into icy spears as he does.

All the while Ford shoots Fonda at congenial, reassuring angles. Our first great look at Lincoln is a centered shot from chest height, just slightly glancing up at his sheepish face. Unlike the politician who spoke before him, Ford doesn’t frame Lincoln as some towering figure, but a relatable one. Lincoln’s words reached people on their level, and so does Ford’s film.

The story itself is a fictionalized version of one of Lincoln’s first court cases when he was a young man, not a president. Some out-of-towners get into a fight with a local brute, and when the man ends up dead, the town wants to lynch the two outsiders. Lincoln single-handedly stops the mob and agrees to defend the boys in a rousing and amusing courtroom drama. It’s complete with a few teases to his eventual wife Mary Todd and to his rival Stephen Douglas (a scene with John Wilkes Booth was cut from the film), but the film’s real charms lie in how Ford can capture the pulse of a community from this period.

“Young Mr. Lincoln” acts as a call for a more relatable leader, one who can subdue the fire of an angry crowd just through his words, but also one who will eat pies, split rails and cheat at tug of war, an average person who is in actuality extraordinary.

Rapid Response: Fail-Safe

Sidney Lumet’s “Fail-Safe” is a forgotten masterpiece released the same year as Stanley Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove”.

FailSafeMy generation never grew up with the fear of imminent destruction. The media raves about the threat of ISIS to America, and we were born into an age where our country had experienced the worst attack on American soil, but the Millennials like me never knew the feeling of the Cold War and the threat of a real super power on the brink of total nuclear war and annihilation.

For that reason, Sidney Lumet’s “Fail-Safe” struck a particularly unusual chord. From 1964, it’s the stepchild to Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove,” with virtually the same plot but none of the irony or grim satire, and due to a lawsuit, it was kept on a shelf until after “Dr. Strangelove” left theaters and became the defining Cold War movie. The film bombed at the box office and was received as camp as a result, and now “Fail-Safe” is widely unseen, but ranks among Lumet’s masterpieces.

“Fail-Safe” is worlds more than a Kubrick clone or a Cold War movie without a sense of humor. It’s a grim and at times calmly nihilistic depiction of politics, bureaucracy and technology. Superbly acted, tensely directed and haunting to look at, it’s less a political commentary than a horror story of a system gone wrong and the world gone to hell as a result.

The plot that leads to doom is simple, but always feels more complicated as it’s happening. Before the times of long range missiles, fighter jets still needed to carry bombs to their targets. American pilots survey an area for suspicious enemy movement, and if they reach a critical Fail-Safe point, they can receive an order via a closed circuit box instructing them to attack. The system is designed to be fool-proof and account for all possibilities, but a mechanical malfunction leads one team of pilots to set on an attack course to Moscow. Believing these orders came directly from the President, the pilots are not to turn around or verify the attack via radio, fearing the possibility that America is already under attack and unable to communicate or that the President’s voice could be impersonated. “Fail-Safe” plays out as a real time race of negotiation with the Russians, strategizing and attempts to shoot down the rogue planes.

While the last plot twist seems like an implausible, fatal flaw, Lumet uses it as a strategic plot device. In such a system where safeguards are put in place, it’s the systems, the policies and the people obligated to obey them that results in tragedy. And the fears that put these systems in place are not aimless. There’s a constant fear of surveillance and technology as to what the Russians are truly capable of, and it’s these presuppositions that lead to the worst.

“Fail-Safe” heightens the pulse of the Cold War tenfold, and it conveys the many nuanced debates and worst case scenarios with eloquence and suspense. The generals in the Pentagon debate the possibility of a limited war, and how with calculated casualties victory can be achieved. While there are vocal naysayers pleading for the prevention of war at all costs, a Pentagon advisor played wickedly by Walter Matthau eggs on the logic behind an attack. He’s a calculated mastermind not unlike Dr. Strangelove who imagines that the only survivors of nuclear war will be convicts in solitary confinement and file clerks. The way Matthau plays the role, seemingly disconnected from the rest of the grounded cast, his political theory ranges from outlandish to scarily accurate.

That nuance is just one virtue Lumet brings to “Fail-Safe.” His characters across the board are not one-dimensional, over eager or seeking bloodlust. They’re flawed bureaucrats trying to find the best case scenario and discovering it to also be the worst. And Lumet carries that nuance into the war room and to the emotional stakes. In one pivotal scene, American General Bogan (Frank Overton) is revealing the location of the rogue fighter jets to a Russian general so they can be shot down and that disaster can be averted. As they talk and fear failure, Bogan is given a file with the general’s picture and one of his family. It’s a poignant, minuscule touch that makes “Fail-Safe” plain brilliant.

But the film is also striking as a film on the cusp of a revolution in Hollywood filmmaking. Lumet incorporates the same claustrophobic feel he brought to “12 Angry Men,” but the sparse settings, imposing low angles and even some repeating jump cuts make it feel daringly unlike anything in Old Hollywood. Two of the film’s best performances and most impressive cinematography come from the scenes with Henry Fonda as the President and Larry Hagman as Buck, his translator. Confined to a sparse bunker for the entirety of the film, Lumet stages incredible monochromatic close-ups that put these two at odds and have them staring down the camera with immense gravity. It’s amazing how much tension Lumet draws from such economy.

And yet “Fail-Safe’s” ending is so powerfully sickening that it makes me question its necessity. The President’s twist is something I will not reveal, but it feels outrageous and impossible even for the stakes Lumet has raised. Sure enough, the consequences are immense and the conclusion is nightmarish. I’m trying to think of another film that has ended in such a way, one with as much of a bleak, devastating outlook as this.

To symbolize such an outcome as a natural possibility and the only rational choice in this circumstance might be too great a scene to depict without any irony in the way “Dr. Strangelove” did. “Fail-Safe” ends with a disclaimer from the Army that none of the technological glitches that occurred are truly possible, and the real cold irony is that Lumet is inadvertently saying they’re wrong. Does such an end justify the horrific means it took to arrive here? “Fail-Safe” is such immensely powerful storytelling and filmmaking that in a time separated from “Dr. Strangelove,” it certainly would.

Rapid Response: The Lady Eve

Preston Sturges’ “The Lady Eve” is considered, “A frivolous masterpiece. Like “Bringing Up Baby,” “The Lady Eve” is a mixture of visual and verbal slapstick, and of high artifice and pratfalls. Barbara Stanwyck keeps sticking out a sensational leg and Henry Fonda keeps tripping over it,” as Pauline Kael wrote in her book in 1992.

It isn’t often I disagree with the experts, and “The Lady Eve” is on a number of best movies of all time lists, including the Village Voice poll and AFI’s 100 Laughs (#55) and AFI’s 100 Passions (#26), but I didn’t think the film had the speed of a number of other screwball comedies like “Bringing Up Baby” or “His Girl Friday,” nor did I find it to have the wit of Sturges’ own “Sullivan’s Travels,” a film so self aware of the film industry around it that it seems an early example of shattering the fourth wall. Continue reading “Rapid Response: The Lady Eve”