As in real life, in 1957, insurance attorney Jim Donovan (Tom Hanks) is asked to defend Soviet spy Rudolph Abel (three-time Tony winner Mark Rylance) in court. There's no getting Abel off the hook altogether, but Donovan persuades the judge to forgo a death sentence, not least because Abel could make a good bargaining chip. The opportunity for this comes before long, as two Americans become prisoners in rapid succession: a spy in the USSR and a mere student who attempted to break into East Germany for romantic reasons. Donovan once again steps up to the plate, this time in the even harder role of officially nongovernmental negotiator in Berlin. Can he get both communist governments to cooperate and trade two prisoners for one of questionable value?
Donovan has plenty of reasons to decline the initial request. One, Abel is about the least popular man in the U.S., and anyone to defend him will not be much more so; this is even harder on a family man. Two, Donovan doesn't want the Soviets to succeed any more than the next American does. Three, he hasn't taken a remotely similar case in ages and fears he's out of practice. Four, the odds are greatly against him winning, with everyone seeming to have made up their minds already. (Some of these minuses may counteract each other for ironic pluses.) Finally, Abel barely appears to care what happens to himself. Whenever Donovan points out his lack of apparent worry, he replies with humorous curiosity, "Would it help?"
So why take the case, and especially, why give it his all? Because Donovan knows that Justice Is Not Easy. The most patriotic thing he can do is defend the Constitution itself, which means that even wartime enemy spies merit an honest chance, not just a ceremonial token or less. As someone who has never been big on sacrificing integrity for popularity, I greatly admire such a man.
My dad and I tried thinking of similar good-lawyer stories later, including A Time to Kill, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Spielberg's own Amistad. But those lawyers combat racism. While Donovan occasionally pokes holes in dismissals of British-accented Abel as a "Russian," it's not really like that. He at least suspects that Abel deserves the punishment that others want for him, tho it's hard to tell with Abel's quiet, gentle demeanor.
Of course, Donovan's second patriotic mission is a lot less thankless. It's just not easy when he has to (1) keep it a secret from his own family for the time being; (2) travel to a cold, poor, oppressive, hostile country where English is not the main language; and (3) care a lot more about winning the whole deal. Several fellow Americans think he should settle for just the American spy, not the student; but again, he's not that kind of guy. And his decision will shape the rest of his career.
This isn't the first Spielberg film based on a true story to fudge a number of details, but he's no Mel Gibson in that regard. The most conspicuous error pertains to the Berlin Wall: It should have been finished swiftly in August, not still incomplete in winter. I don't think BoS propagates any dangerous misinformation.
And really, I can't find much more fault than that. It gets you thinking, feeling, and caring about things that will always matter. People first wanted to bring this story to the big screen half a century ago, before the Cold War intensified too much; while the original plans (Gregory Peck as Donovan and Alec Guinness as Abel) would've worked nicely, the final version hasn't exactly suffered from the wait. I count this among Spielberg's better efforts.
No comments:
Post a Comment