Good Night, and Good Luck reminds us that history isn’t always rosy. Set in that halcyon era after World War Two, but before the Cuban Missile Crisis, Gary Powers’s U-2, or Castro’s revolution in Cuba, the film reveals that all is not right in Utopia.
Communists are everywhere, or so “the junior senator from Wisconsin,” Joseph McCarthy, would have them believe. As the film opens, it’s 1953, the height of McCarthyism, when folks with any prior association with Communists–even decades before–find themselves blacklisted and convicted with hearsay evidence. Accusation assures conviction, especially among intellecutals and entertainers.
Enter into this, Edward R Murrow (David Strathairn), voice of America during World War Two, and now the most recognized face of the new medium, television. It’s worth noting, at this point there were only two ‘channels’ as we’d know them today–Columbia Broadcasting Service (CBS) and the National Broadcasting Company. ABC wouldn’t arrive for over a decade. So, when Murrow spoke, he often had 50% of America listening to him.
The story starts simply enough–as the chainsmoking cadre of reporters sit in the newsroom working up stories for a broadcast, Murrow brings-up a story from Detroit about a blacklisted Air Force Reservist, convicted on hidden evidence. From there, the story moves apace to programs attacking McCarthy himself, framed with clips of the McCarthy hearings.
As a history buff, I loved this film, as well as the subdued, nuanced performances of its ensemble cast. Murrow is a man torn between duty and convictions, who’d like to do hard-hitting news each day, but must pay the bills with fluff interviews on ‘Person to Person’. He despises such grunt work, but does it anyway. He’d like to help-out a friend, but must focus his energy on bringing down McCarthy.