Good luck, and good night

There has been one great movie about journalists, people whose self-importance knows no boundaries, and that would be “All the President’s Men,” the story of the reporters who “broke the Watergate scandal” set to celluloid. For those who don’t recall, Watergate was an early “-gate” scandal, not to be confused with Travelgate, or Plamegate.

A good movie about reporters is “Absent of Malice,” starring Sally Fields and Paul Newman.

A so-so movie about journalists is “Shattered Glass,” the story of the New Republic reporter who fabricated several stories before being caught.

There are many terrible movies about reporters, the one that comes to mind is “The Paper.” It really sucks.

I watched “Good Night and Good Luck,” this evening, a stark, black and white account of Edward Murrow’s crusade against former Sen. Joe McCarthy, R-Wisc.

McCarthy is where we get the term “McCarthyism,” which is a highly stylized form of ventriloquism.

“Good Night and Good Luck” wasn’t as long as other movies about reporters, which is its crowning achievement, so it ranks as a “good” movie about reporters. Then again, it could have been shorter.

With regards to the cast: that’s not acting, that’s smoking.

To its discredit, the film has a message, which is that television has the power to slay demagogues, but also to hatch them. In the beginning Murrow declares that some arguments do not have two valid sides. The tough question of “Who gets to decide between statesman and demagogue?” is tapped occasionally, but never fully answered.

Presumably, according to the film makers, journalists should decide. That’s easy enough.

But which journalists? By law, the government cannot license reporters, it cannot require that reporters understand the basics of what they will cover, nor can the government censure reporters for failing to meet ethical standards. Doctors, lawyers, businesses, hairdressers, hunters, they all have to submit to governmental oversight, in theory, to protect the public’s interest. Journalists don’t even have non-governmental oversight. Reporters and editors are considered private citizens.

These are all good things, necessary things. The framers of the constitution had an understanding of how information flows, and the importance of having access to a spectrum of sources.

But it leaves you with a field of professionals (who are, for the most part, human) who sometimes operate in the dark with strange and loathsome people, often becoming strange and loathsome themselves. How can you know you can trust a reporter? The easy answer is, you can’t.

The film gives credit to Murrow and Friendly for helping to stop McCarthy, a real bastard, and so we understand that when journalists have significant power at their disposal to influence public opinion, like a television show, journalists will use it wisely and for the betterment of America. Hurray for journalists.

It’s a little too tidy of a package.

What redeems the film is its exploration of the idea that a vigorous, aggressive and independent news organization will constantly bump against business interests. There can be no equilibrium, only give and take up to a point. This tension between news departments and advertising (and a lesser degree circulation) is real, and does result in self-censorship. If the filmmakers are going to hit me over the head with something, I’d prefer it to be this tension between truth-telling and profit.

Another good part was the soft fluff Murrow’s show had to do in-between the hard-nosed public affairs news features. I really liked those scenes. Even the legendary Ed Murrow had to do stories he couldn’t care less about.

Eenk Rating scale:

7 flaming, golden hawks out of 11