A social satire in which a man realizes he would have a better life if he were to shrink himself to five inches tall, allowing him to live in wealth and splendor.
Warning: This article contains spoilers about ”The Post.”
Every great Steven Spielberg movie is compared to the last great Steven Spielberg movie. Maybe you’ll think “The Post,” a new biopic about The Washington Post’s efforts to expose the American government’s duplicitous Vietnam War tactics, is Spielberg’s best since “Lincoln” in 2012. Or “Munich” in 2005. Maybe you’d harken back to 2002, calling it his finest since “Catch Me If You Can” or “Minority Report.” (We send our regrets to “The Terminal.”)
The world’s most famous director works so voraciously, and with such creative consistency, that contrasting his successes is almost futile. Even at its weakest, there’s nothing like that classic Spielberg polish.
However you valuate “The Post” against the rest of Spielberg’s oeuvre, the film’s appeal is infinite. I fell even harder for it on a second viewing, particularly one scene that ranks among the most thrilling phone calls ever captured onscreen: when Washington Post publisher Katharine “Kay” Graham decides to move forward with an exposé despite the Nixon administration’s injunction barring The New York Times from releasing the same information.
The moment crystallizes the entire film. It’s a proverbial applause break that kicks the third act into hyperdrive.
Everything that matters in “The Post” can be gleaned from this one transaction, which crackles with an old-fashioned tension that recalls dramas from the 1970s. Graham (Meryl Streep), who had never before held a job but inherited the role after her husband’s death, is managing an organization dominated by men. In June 1971, the same week that loquacious Post editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and star reporter Ben Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) get ahold of the classified documents that would become known as the Pentagon Papers, Graham is taking the company public, a process that again thrusts her into boardrooms monopolized by dudes. If the Post’s story is rebuked, the newspaper’s value could falter. And now the White House, which for years concealed the military’s breadth in Vietnam, is besmirching the First Amendment and threatening to silence the press. If the Post publishes, its staff risks being held in contempt of court.
Graham is tasked with adjudicating the risk. Does she hold the government accountable, thereby prioritizing resolute journalism? Or should she be a prudent businesswoman and protect her paper’s bottom line?
Graham, shimmering in a divine golden caftan, is throwing a party when her trusted adviser, Fritz Beebe (Tracy Letts), phones her from Bradlee’s den. There, Post employees are sorting through the Vietnam documents, feverishly prepping a front-page scoop for the next morning. Beebe has called to warn her of its arrival. Bradlee, in a dramatic attempt to stop Fritz from talking Graham out of publishing the story, hops on the line. Meanwhile, two of Graham’s naysaying board members (Bradley Whitford and Brent Langdon), who happen to be at her party, pick up receivers in her living room. The exchange balloons into a six-way call when editorial-page editor Phil Geyelin (Pat Healy) joins seconds later, telling Graham that two reporters are threatening to quit if the article isn’t published. The ticktock cuts rapidly between each participant, anxiety mounting. They hang in the balance, awaiting her decision.
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Janusz Kaminski, the Polish cinematographer who has shot each of Spielberg’s movies since 1993′s “Schindler’s List,” knew “The Post” would brim with “big speeches and possibly boring interiors,” so he sought to ”[make] the camera be an active participant” in the commotion. Spielberg is famous for knowing exactly what his movies should look like before they begin production, and he gave Kaminski inspired instructions on how to frame Streep, the true protagonist, who is alone in an office at Graham’s house during the call.
“I say we can; he says we can’t ― there, you’re caught up,” Bradlee barks after Graham picks up the phone, referring to his and Fritz’s divided opinions on whether to publish the story. Kaminski’s camera ― placed on a platform constructed for the set ― then pans upward and rests overhead, miniaturizing Streep as she stands there, listening to the chorus of voices. And then, with a jolt of suspense, while John Williams’ strings score remains faint, the camera slowly revolves around Graham at 360 degrees. That concept came from Spielberg, and the resulting mobility is electric. The audience peers down at her, sympathetically observing her thought process, made palpable by the room’s warm lighting, as well as Streep’s tense facial expressions and jittery hand gestures. The men, meanwhile, are seen in darker, more brooding settings. Hope rests with Graham.
Because the exchange is intercut with static closeups of the men on the other end of the line, that aerial shot of Streep ― more expansive, more invigorating ― generates a certain edginess. Like the camera, everyone else orbits her.
″[Tom Hanks’ shots used] a wider angle so you can see his hand in the frame,” Kaminski said by phone last week. “With Tracy Letts, it’s a little bit more dramatic because he was the one that was the most nervous about the whole situation. The other guys [do not support] the idea of publishing because they would lose money and all that stuff. They were afraid of the legal repercussions, so those shots were more formal. Whereas, with Tom, I didn’t want to be formal; I wanted to be more energized and slightly more nervous, so it was little bit more active.”
In a stroke of genius, the camera returns to a closeup of Graham as she asks for Fritz’s guidance. “I guess I wouldn’t publish,” he says, and Kaminski steadily pushes in on her. The nervous music crescendoes, prompting even those familiar with the historical outcome to grip their seats. After pausing to let Graham ponder the advisers’ feedback, the camera tightens on her face. Suddenly, she embodies the entire frame, as if summoning all her might. Once miniature, she’s now maximized. Streep bites her lip, exhales and finally, in a moment of unbridled triumph, proclaims, “Let’s go, let’s do it.”
A pause as she considers her words.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. Let’s publish.”
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The camera pans out again as she hangs up, giving you permission to release the breath you’ve been holding. History is made, and Graham’s conflict is humanized.
Unlike some directors, Spielberg doesn’t ask his actors to do many takes. Kaminski said he nailed Streep’s sequence in “four or five” tries, necessary for technical purposes rather than anything concerning her performance. She’s Meryl Streep, after all. Even though the actress would slightly modify her tonality each time, Kaminski said, she “gives an importance to the written word” and needs no thorough adjustments. As Streep, Hanks and the rest of the cast have noted in press interviews, they sought to honor the saga’s prescient topicality.
“The biggest decision I made was to stay away from too much of a heavy period look,” Spielberg told The Hollywood Reporter. “I wanted this movie to feel very contemporary, just like the story. I wanted people to feel there is a [direct parallel] between what was happening in 1971 — and the Nixon administration and Washington Post — and what’s happening right now with this administration and [Trump’s] desire to control the press and freedom of speech. I used lots of nondirectional soft light. Normally, I like to use harder light, but for this movie my aim was to be very quiet about my work.”
Compared to, say, “Catch Me If You Can,” a whirlwind that required a bounty of locations and complicated lighting setups, this was “a rather simple movie to make,” Kaminski said. In late February, Spielberg was casting what he thought would be his next project, “The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara.” He was struggling to find a lead when his agents sent over the first draft of “The Post,” written by Liz Hannah. (“Spotlight” scribe Josh Singer later came aboard for a rewrite. They are both credited on the finished version.) Spielberg, now 71, dropped what he was doing and fast-tracked the shoot so it could open this year. “The Post” started filming in late May; it opened in limited release on Dec. 22, when many critics deemed it Spielberg’s best work since ― you guessed it ― “Lincoln” or “Munich” or “Minority Report” or [insert your own choice here].
“I would have shot this movie a little different,” Kaminski said when asked to reflect on the experience. “It probably would be a little bit cooler and a little bit more shadowy. But at the moment we were doing such a transparent movie — everyone was transparent. I felt I didn’t need to create any mystery there. I wanted to be understated. [...] This one was a complicated movie from a production point of view. It was complicated for Steven because of all the characters, all the performances, and how to maintain the integrity of each performance and having so many frames. For me, sometimes lighting became a little more general, particularly in that Washington Post office, where I knew the camera was going to move a lot and I couldn’t be very specific with the lighting because we would not be able to free the director to look 360 all around the actors.”
“But other than that,” he added, “it was a very enjoyable production.”
The Post
Director - Steven Spielberg
Cast - Tom Hanks, Meryl Streep, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, Bradley Whitford, Matthew Rhys
Rating - 5/5
Freedom of the Press, if it means anything at all, means the freedom to criticize and oppose.
- George Orwell
A newsroom can be an intoxicating place to be in. On certain days, tickets could be sold to the public for them to experience the electricity that surges through its coldly lit paths. Huddles form at every clearing, every desk becomes a meeting room, and the Editor-in-Chief’s cabin takes on the appearance of a government office in a small town, with harried reporters and editors barging in and out. A newsroom is no place for manners.
In this regard, Steven Spielberg’s new movie, The Post, is a documentary. It is also a euphoric, angry, and shamelessly sentimental film – the sort that only Steven Spielberg can make. When everything is said and done, and whether or not any impeachments, assassinations or resignations happen, it will be seen as one of the most important films of our times.
In this image released by 20th Century Fox, Tom Hanks portrays Ben Bradlee, left, and Meryl Streep portrays Katharine Graham in a scene from The Post. (AP)
It tells the story of the Washington Post’s race against time to release damning secret documents that proved the American government had been lying to its people about the Vietnam War, while an unprecedented battle wages on between the Nixon administration and the Ben Bradlee-led Post. The President had already shut down the New York Times’ efforts to publish the sensitive documents – it was the first time in history that the government had refused to allow a newspaper to report on a story of such magnitude – and Bradlee and his publisher (Kay Graham) saw this an opportunity to let the world know that the Post wasn’t in the business of reading news, but reporting news.
Faced with insurmountable odds, and against the advice of an army of very expensive lawyers, they pushed ahead. Their reputations, the legacy of the Washington Post, and possible jail time was at risk; but the country’s future was at stake.
Like its two protagonists, The Post is a brave movie – perhaps even braver than its biggest inspiration, All the President’s Men. That film, which has developed an unchallenged reputation as the seminal film about journalism, was only released years after Richard Nixon – who in the Post, is depicted almost as a Bond villain, lurking in his sinister lair – had resigned. The current President is still in office.
In this image released by 20th Century Fox, Tom Hanks portrays Ben Bradlee in a scene from The Post. (AP)
And as played by Tom Hanks, Bradlee is just what an editor should be – decisive, inspirational, and – as he’d like to believe – brave. The sort of unstoppable idealism that he displays is almost impossible to find anymore, regardless of what the story is. In an early scene, he refuses the White House’s demand to assign a different reporter from the usual one to cover the President’s daughter’s wedding. He could simply have agreed and avoided the trouble, but in one of the first of the film’s many rousing moments, he declares, “We cannot let the administration dictate what we can and cannot print.”
By Bradlee’s side is Kay Graham, played by the great Meryl Streep. Her battles are different. She inherited the newspaper from her late husband, who’d been handed the reins when her own father skipped her as the rightful heir. And she didn’t question his decision. How could she? It was a different time for women. Even as one of the most powerful persons in the room, when the time came to discuss politics, she’d excuse herself with the other ladies to gossip about fluff pieces.
Spielberg and his longtime cinematographer, Janusz Kaminski, shoot the duo’s scenes in a two-shot, and let the dialogue – partially written by Josh Singer, who previously won an Oscar for Spotlight – and their performances do the work. The camera takes a more frantic approach in the newsroom, lit with greys and blacks, dense with the smoke of a hundred cigarettes.
In this image released by 20th Century Fox, Tom Hanks portrays Ben Bradlee, left, and Meryl Streep portrays Katharine Graham in a scene from The Post. (AP)
There are, of course, parallels to be drawn between what happened during the Nixon presidency and what is happening now, under Donald Trump, and even at home. We cannot forget the FIR that was registered against a journalist not one week ago. To control the news is to control the votes, and to control the votes is to control your fate. The press has always been a vulnerable machine, both envied and coveted. They’ve tried to attack it, to tame it, to cage it and yet, like Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham, it barrels on.
There is disenfranchisement, there is constant mocking, constant blaming - and in many cases, it is deserved. As someone on the inside, I can reveal that the worst possible way for this scenario to play out is if the reader believes everything he or she reads. Everything should be questioned, even this review, because in cynicism lies the truth.
These aren’t necessarily the debates we’re either willing or confident enough to have. But we must. To doubt, to challenge, to never settle - that’s what The Post is about. Journalism has seen worse days, so there is no question that it will survive this worrisome phase in its undeterred story. We will not see it survive, but we can help make sure it stands a chance.
Watch the trailer for the Post here
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The author tweets @RohanNaahar
