Good Night, and Good Luck: A Look at George Clooney, Edward Murrow and National Security
“We cannot defend freedom abroad by abandoning it at home,” proclaims 1950’s newscaster Edward R. Murrow, staring intently in the camera, his cheek muscle twitching - and suddenly it becomes clear why a graduate school of law and diplomacy is screening a Hollywood film.
Fletcher students and faculty filled the campus cinema September 29 for a preview of the movie “Good Night, and Good Luck,” a cinematic essay on the politics of truth, fear, and morality as seen in the 1954 media battle between the legendary CBS newsman Edward R. Murrow and the “Junior Senator from Wisconsin,” Joseph R. McCarthy.
The screening was followed by a lively Q&A session with David Strathairn, who portrayed Murrow in the film, and Murrow’s son, Casey, a frequent visitor at the Fletcher School. The event was co-sponsored by The Fletcher School’s Murrow Center and Warner Independent Pictures.
More than a moral lecture, the movie is a touching and accurate portrait of a man and a time in which the smoke and scotch flowed freely at work, but in which journalists took the truth, their ethics and their obligation to the public very seriously.
Murrow set the standards for broadcast news from its infancy in the 1930’s until he left CBS in 1961 and was known for his passion for truth and democratic ideals. His name still inspires intense respect among journalists, even as many argue that television reporting has moved further away from his standards.
Despite its excellent recreation of the politics and atmosphere of broadcast news in the 1950’s, “Good Night, and Good Luck” is not just a period drama. Strathairn, in fact, called it an openly political “gauntlet” thrown in the face of all who think that civil liberties can be compromised in the name of national security. The film poster proclaims simply, “We will not walk in fear of one another.”
In the film, Murrow is at the height of his popularity and makes the decision to speak out against the McCarthy, knowing that it could end his own and his teams’ careers. In the ensuing melee, reporters are pressured, sponsors and advertisers are lost, and a man commits suicide. And in the end, it seems Murrow and his CBS team won the battle, but not the war.
Personal bravery plays a key role in the film, Strathairn commented on Thursday.
“McCarthy was bit of a loner,” he said, “who drank a lot and was drawing a considerable amount of criticism by 1954. That loner phenomenon doesn’t really exist today.” Strathairn also noted that the possibilities of technology today can make it even more different to present truth or reveal deception. The result may be confusion more than fear, but it can be just as paralyzing in today’s skirmishes over security and civil liberties.
George Clooney, who wrote and directed the film, also appears as Murrow’s producer Fred Friendly. His father was a news anchor, and the elegantly filmed black and white movie not only recreates the look and feel of a 1950’s newsroom, but also examines classical issues of making “objective” and “real” news in the face of corporate and political pressure.
The film also stars Robert Downey, Jr. and Patricia Clarkson as Joe and Shirley Wershba, Frank Langella as Bill Paley, Ray Wise as Don Hollenbeck, Heslov as Don Hewitt, and Jeff Daniels as Sig Mickelson.
GRAMMY® Award-winner Dianne Reeves appears in the film and provides the soundtrack, singing about TV, sorrow and everything in between as the reporters live it a few rooms away.
“(The movie) is like a song”, Strathairn said as the evening drew to a close, “…where you never lose sight of the theme.”
“Good Night, and Good Luck” will open in the Boston market Oct. 7.
This screening is part of a series of events initiated by the Murrow Center to renew interest in Edward R. Murrow’s legacy. Other recent events included speeches by Daniel Schorr, veteran reporter and the last of the “Murrow Boys,” and Louis D. Boccardi, former President and CEO of the Associated Press.
Shortly after becoming Dean of The Fletcher School, Edmund Gullion approached Murrow about heading a new center dedicated to what he thought should be called “public diplomacy.” Murrow, then director of the United States Information Agency, was considering the offer but died unexpectedly in 1965. His widow, Janet, agreed to have her husband’s effects housed at The Fletcher School. Today, more than 90 percent of Murrow’s writings are housed in the Center.
