One of the best movies ever made about Jesus was Franco Zefferelli's Jesus of Nazareth. There have dozens of movies made about the life of Christ. And since the source material is the most-read story in the history of the world, you can imagine that taking an original point-of-view would be difficult. But one the smartest narrative strategies this movie does is in how it approaches Jesus. He is so iconic and so far above us that it becomes incredibly difficult to do Him justice. CS Lewis said that it is easy to enter the mindset of someone worse than you. All you have to do is remove the moral restraints in our soul. But it is so much more difficult to put ourselves into the mind of someone better than us. Jesus of Nazareth sidesteps this by being much more about what it was like for ordinary people to be in the presence of the God-Man Jesus than it is about telling the story from Jesus' perspective.
And that is the same way it is with Steven Spielberg's Lincoln. This hagiographic approach to the 16th President actually works because instead of making us walk in Lincoln's shoes we walk in Lincoln's shadow. The opening scene sets the tone as he sits under a canopy as Union soldiers shuffle around for deployment, speaking to him with a mixture of awe and affection. He is not only holding court with them, but with us the audience. We are invited to sit by the great man and learn from him. He keeps the camera distant at first. There is a respect here that is evident in how he is framed. You can tell that Spielberg holds this man in the same awe as the soldiers.
Normally, this level of awe would be a detriment to telling a good story. Putting someone on a pedestal makes it difficult to see them as a fully realized character. But somehow Spielberg is able to do it. It works because Lincoln is an enigma. He is such a striking person, both in appearance and in voice that you aren't quite sure what to make of him. Spielberg strangely applies a principle he learned in Jaws to his filming of Lincoln: leave an air of mystery. With Jaws, Spielberg keeps the shark away from the camera and lets your mind fill in the horrible blanks. In Lincoln, he keeps the president just enough out of range so as to be mysterious. He doesn't hide him visually, but he films him in a way in which you get good glimpses of his character and his genius, but you never get the sense that you've figured him out. Lincoln is an iceberg and all you see on the surface hints at his hidden depths.
Rather than following his life from start to finish, as many biopics do, Lincoln is primarily about the 2 and a half months between his re-election to the presidency and his fight to get Congress to pass the 13th Amendment, which outlawed slavery. By doing this, the movie avoids the major problem that most biopics have, where they are meandering and disjointed as they try to cram many unrelated historical events into the narrative. But this story has a beginning, middle, and end because it focused only on a slice of Lincoln's life. And while there is a good deal of his personal life that informs his actions, the movie is mostly about the political maneuverings of the time. It feels very much like an extended episode of The West Wing set in 1865.
And Lincoln must navigate his way through the swamp of Washington. He has convinced the common people that the 13th Amendment is necessary for winning the war. But if the war ends first, which looks to be the case at the beginning of the film, then popular support for the amendment will evaporate. His Secretary of State Seward (David Strathairn) leads the back alley negotiations while Secretary of War Stanton (Bruce McGill) pushes for heavier attacks. Meanwhile Lincoln needs the help of Radical Republican Abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones) while at the same time needing him to moderate his position so as not to alienate the moderates. And Lincoln must do most of this while fighting a war with the South and a war at home with his mentally unbalanced wife (Sally Field) and estranged son (Joseph Gordon-Leavitt). If all of that sounds incredibly complicated, it is. But that is a good thing.
The movie is not a political allegory; it is not a mask for some other current political issues dressed up in 19th Century clothing. It is rarer and better. It has what Tolkien called "applicability." You can use this story and apply it to any political cause. For example, we Catholic Pro-Lifers seek to outlaw abortion because we believe in human rights for all, born and unborn. But popular support in the country does not exist for banning abortion in the case of rape and incest. So what is a Pro-Lifer to do? Lincoln does an amazing balancing act of principled leadership and political pragmatism.
I must speak now about Daniel Day-Lewis' much lauded performance as Abraham Lincoln. This earned him his third Best Actor Oscar, being the only actor in history to achieve this accomplishment I was not impressed with what I saw of him in the trailers, so I went in very skeptical. But there was a bit of genius to his decision to play against the expected baritone, imposing type that is typical of most movie Lincolns. By breaking with that tradition and giving him a high, cracking voice and unassuming posture, you never feel like he is doing an impression of Lincoln. Day Lewis gives you a performance that feels like a complete, three-dimensional character. He draws you in with his quaint stories and then hits you with his crystal-clear wisdom, but he always keeps you at a distance. It is the feeling you get when you are in the presence of someone truly great: you don't feel worthy enough to draw too close. Day-Lewis' Lincoln is flawed, but his all the more admirable for his flaws. The other actors do very well in their parts, like Gloria Reuben in a small but memorable role as White House employee Mrs. Keckly and James Spader as Mr. Bilbo, a slimy scoundrel who happens to be fighting for the right side.
This is probably the best movie Spielberg has directed since Saving Private Ryan. This movie shows a lot more restraint that Spielberg is used to. He lets scenes play out quietly, trusting the power of his actors to carry a great deal. He moves the camera slowly. He lights the late-night conspiracies subtly. All the while, he lets you feel the weight of history on these few months.
Historical movies are always a challenge, especially when they are made about great men and women. How can you, as Shakespeare said, dare to bring to life "so great an object." But Spielberg did a fantastic job of presenting to us Abraham Lincoln in all of his greatness.
Rather than following his life from start to finish, as many biopics do, Lincoln is primarily about the 2 and a half months between his re-election to the presidency and his fight to get Congress to pass the 13th Amendment, which outlawed slavery. By doing this, the movie avoids the major problem that most biopics have, where they are meandering and disjointed as they try to cram many unrelated historical events into the narrative. But this story has a beginning, middle, and end because it focused only on a slice of Lincoln's life. And while there is a good deal of his personal life that informs his actions, the movie is mostly about the political maneuverings of the time. It feels very much like an extended episode of The West Wing set in 1865.
And Lincoln must navigate his way through the swamp of Washington. He has convinced the common people that the 13th Amendment is necessary for winning the war. But if the war ends first, which looks to be the case at the beginning of the film, then popular support for the amendment will evaporate. His Secretary of State Seward (David Strathairn) leads the back alley negotiations while Secretary of War Stanton (Bruce McGill) pushes for heavier attacks. Meanwhile Lincoln needs the help of Radical Republican Abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones) while at the same time needing him to moderate his position so as not to alienate the moderates. And Lincoln must do most of this while fighting a war with the South and a war at home with his mentally unbalanced wife (Sally Field) and estranged son (Joseph Gordon-Leavitt). If all of that sounds incredibly complicated, it is. But that is a good thing.
The movie is not a political allegory; it is not a mask for some other current political issues dressed up in 19th Century clothing. It is rarer and better. It has what Tolkien called "applicability." You can use this story and apply it to any political cause. For example, we Catholic Pro-Lifers seek to outlaw abortion because we believe in human rights for all, born and unborn. But popular support in the country does not exist for banning abortion in the case of rape and incest. So what is a Pro-Lifer to do? Lincoln does an amazing balancing act of principled leadership and political pragmatism.
I must speak now about Daniel Day-Lewis' much lauded performance as Abraham Lincoln. This earned him his third Best Actor Oscar, being the only actor in history to achieve this accomplishment I was not impressed with what I saw of him in the trailers, so I went in very skeptical. But there was a bit of genius to his decision to play against the expected baritone, imposing type that is typical of most movie Lincolns. By breaking with that tradition and giving him a high, cracking voice and unassuming posture, you never feel like he is doing an impression of Lincoln. Day Lewis gives you a performance that feels like a complete, three-dimensional character. He draws you in with his quaint stories and then hits you with his crystal-clear wisdom, but he always keeps you at a distance. It is the feeling you get when you are in the presence of someone truly great: you don't feel worthy enough to draw too close. Day-Lewis' Lincoln is flawed, but his all the more admirable for his flaws. The other actors do very well in their parts, like Gloria Reuben in a small but memorable role as White House employee Mrs. Keckly and James Spader as Mr. Bilbo, a slimy scoundrel who happens to be fighting for the right side.
This is probably the best movie Spielberg has directed since Saving Private Ryan. This movie shows a lot more restraint that Spielberg is used to. He lets scenes play out quietly, trusting the power of his actors to carry a great deal. He moves the camera slowly. He lights the late-night conspiracies subtly. All the while, he lets you feel the weight of history on these few months.
Historical movies are always a challenge, especially when they are made about great men and women. How can you, as Shakespeare said, dare to bring to life "so great an object." But Spielberg did a fantastic job of presenting to us Abraham Lincoln in all of his greatness.
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