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Spielberg Sundays: Lincoln (2012)


       Steven Spielberg is a patriot. This is clear throughout his filmography and it’s probably one of the reasons he’s managed to endear himself so much in the American film industry. He’s proud of his country and its accomplishments, which is particularly notable in his World War II films. There’s a slight patriotic fervour to the Indiana Jones movies, in that Jones is a variation of an all-American hero, it’s no coincidence that the airplanes and POWs Jamie idolizes in Empire of the Sun are American, and of course Saving Private Ryan is a tribute to all Americans who died in that war.
       But Spielberg is the right kind of patriot too, well aware of his country’s historic failings, and his generally liberal love of America draws him to stories of good people overcoming or subverting these failings. Amistad was his first exercise in telling this kind of a story. The Post was his most recent. But Lincoln was his most large scale and most important -his tribute as it were, to American democracy.
       The film is focussed on the last two months of the life of Abraham Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis) and primarily his attempt to pass the Thirteenth Amendment before the end of the Civil War and emancipate the slaves. He faces push-back on this from both the sternly conservative House Democrats and even some Republicans, including the radical egalitarian Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones). While making the political maneuveurs necessary to ensure the amendment is ratified, Lincoln also deals with troubles in his home life, with his son Robert (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) wanting to enlist, and his wife Mary Todd (Sally Field) being stressed over the toll this vote is taking on her husband.
       Abraham Lincoln, it need not be stated, is a titan of a historical figure. Almost certainly the most revered and respected U.S. President with an unrivalled legacy, it’s a mighty task to make a movie about him. Screenwriter Tony Kushner was smart to condense the breadth of his presidency down to the passing of the Thirteenth Amendment rather than attempt to tell his whole life story. It’s a great idea. That amendment and the fight for it really epitomizes, if not who Lincoln actually was, the fundamental principles of his legacy. And of course he’s arguably best remembered as the President who freed the slaves. And so Lincoln is more a study of a particular moment in history rather than a story about its title figure –similar to Sacha Gervasi’s Hitchcock, but better. In its climax being an Act of Congress, Lincoln is Spielberg’s most overtly political movie -large parts of it being essentially nineteenth century C-SPAN. The personalities, atmosphere, and language in the House is likewise meant to evoke its modern descendent. Whether this is a critique of how little American politicians have grown or a statement that this generation too can achieve great things in this system, depends entirely on how much cynicism or pride you approach the film with.
       The movie isn’t entirely confined to Congress though, and Spielberg does a good job realizing the world of 1865, and giving it much more necessary scale and detail than his last foray into this time period in Amistad. This is a very well shot movie, especially notable in the scenes away from Washington, and the grim atmosphere of war is consistently present. We don’t ever see any battles beyond the opening scene, but the cost is effectively communicated. It’s a picture of nineteenth century America that feels very lived in as well.
       But the primary immersive element of the movie comes in the form of Daniel Day-Lewis’ performance. Whether or not you thought he was a great actor it can’t be denied how committed he was to his roles. And thus his Lincoln is as imposing and bold as no doubt the real man was, with a strong character and sense of justice. Day-Lewis has charisma and wit; he seems to especially love Lincoln’s idiosyncrasies, such as his penchant for telling anecdotes when he should be focussed on more important politics. He can also deliver a speech with extreme power, and Lincoln gets a few great ones here, both previously existing passages and proclamations written just for the film. And of course he looks the part, embodying the right level of gravitas. But he’s adequately grounded too, as we’re privy to the drama in his family life, which may only marginally connect to the story but provides more justification for his name being the movies’ title. However in this focus, Lincoln is still held up much more as god than man. Nowhere does the movie challenge the larger than life image of him. We don’t really learn a lot about him, which admittedly a story that covered his history would allow. He very much is designed to fit the image of the great President who freed the slaves. And about that…
       The white saviour narrative of this film can’t be ignored, even if it is a true story, and arguably the most important true story in the history of African-American liberation. It’s definitely more than a little troubling that this movie all about the Thirteenth Amendment and the freeing of the slaves features next to no prominent black characters. David Oyelewo gets an awesome moment at the start (with Colman Domingo appearing alongside him), and S. Epatha Merkerson has a brief appearance as Lydia Smith. Gloria Reuben is the most prominent as Elizabeth Keckley, Mary Todd’s confidante, but even she is relatively minor. And Frederick Douglass is nowhere to be seen or heard. Instead there are black extras, appearing as part of the Union Army to irritate the Confederate generals, as servants to the white figures affecting change, or to react with joy in the climax to the passing of the amendment. 
       Despite intricately showing the democratic process involved, this is another story perpetuating the thesis that Lincoln alone ended slavery. The movie wants to be a testament to American democracy but isn’t very democratic. There were better ways to relate the history that don’t mute the black voice and resort to simplified notions of slavery. Spielberg’s last white saviour story, Amistad also devoted a lot of the action to the white people, but it at least had the strong central character in Cinque, and even if it wasn’t Spielberg’s place to do so, it showed some of the horrific evils of slavery, giving its audience an idea of what was being fought for. Lincoln is in some way a sequel to Amistad given emancipation was foreshadowed at the end of that film, but Spielberg’s solution to avoiding the appropriation criticism from Amistad (and probably The Color Purple as well), seems to have been just to cut black identity out entirely. That’s not an improvement.
       Another commonality Lincoln has with Amistad, that does work somewhat to its advantage is a large supporting cast of esteemed and talented actors. Sally Field is at the front of it as a frustrated but loving Mary Todd while Joseph-Gordon Levitt does a good enough job as the Lincolns’ oldest son. Besides Day-Lewis, the biggest stand-out of the film is Tommy Lee Jones delivering an exceptionally outspoken, unwavering, and confident performance as Thaddeus Stevens, a figure whose cultural recognition before this movie consisted mainly of a highly vilified portrait in Birth of a Nation -so at least that’s been corrected. James Spader is terrific as William Bilbo, the witty Republican lobbyist, easily the most enjoyable part of the movie, and often accompanied by Tim Blake Nelson and John Hawkes. David Strathairn does a good job as William Seward as does Hal Holbrook as Francis Preston Blair, both in advisory roles to Lincoln. The House of Representatives includes a notable Lee Pace, Michael Stuhlbarg, and Walton Goggins, and there are appearances by Adam Driver, Stephen Henderson, Bruce McGill, Dane DeHaan, Lukas Haas, and Gregory Itzin. Finally as the Civil War rivals are a sterling Jared Harris as Ulysses Grant and a slimy Jackie Earle Haley as Alexander Stephens.
       Lincoln is an incredibly competently made film. Janusz Kaminski’s cinematography is great, emphasizing the still young nation through its rough-and-tumble infrastructure, and there’s a lot of talent on screen and devotion to the technicals of its story. It immerses you in the period well enough, makes some smart choices in its presentation of certain important scenes, and is even educational in how it portrays the political methods and power plays. But it feels a little empty. Lincoln’s a great figure, but this movie doesn’t make him into a great character, despite Day-Lewis’ impeccable Oscar-winning performance and the numerous speeches and stories meant to flesh out his personality. It’s still playing Lincoln as the American hero who freed the slaves rather than an American hero because he freed them. And the absence of said slaves in the story narrows its effectiveness.
       Still, it’s a decent movie, but it falls short of greatness. And Spielberg’s direction is commendable as ever, but not entirely interesting or unique, even compared to his last movie War Horse. Lincoln was Spielberg’s last really ambitious project (I suspect West Side Story will be his next), and that does show in its scope and grandiose sensibilities. But unlike Spielberg’s other major dramas, it’s probably not worth revisiting.

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