July 4, 2011
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The Conspirators
A real courtroom drama, and much more beyond.
Should have been watched more here, as well as the US after 911.
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“The Conspirator Review — Patience is a Virtue”
Shaun MunroRest assured that Robert Redford’s latest effort, The Conspirator, is unlikely to light up the box office, what with its methodical pacing and tendency to be quietly compelling rather than dramatically grandiose. It is, however, one of the year’s more intriguing period works thus far; gliding on a spectacular cast and a screenplay packed with thoughtful ideas that still remain relevant today, patient viewers are sure to be richly rewarded.
Beginning with the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln at the hands of John Wilkes Booth (Toby Kebbel), The Conspirator then diverges to become less about Lincoln’s demise and trains its focus upon the trial of Mary Surratt (Robin Wright). An apparent conspirator alongside her son, John (Johnny Simmons), it soon becomes clear that the prosecution is building a heavily biased case against her, both in order to restore the country’s confidence after the death of their leader, and more disturbingly, to try and bring her son, who is in hiding, to justice. Her counsel, young Union war hero Frederick Aiken (James McAvoy), initially believes her to be guilty, yet as the corrupt case continue to build, he is forced to abandon his prejudices and do what is right.
It becomes clear very quickly that The Conspirator is not going to be a film for everyone; though it begins with a meticulous depiction of Lincoln’s murder, Redford is less keen on scenes of histrionic grandstanding and instead endeavours to tells a composed – though no less engrossing – tale of grand injustice at a time of great national unrest. An actor’s film for sure, the greatest rewards are reaped simply from watching an incredibly distinguished cast chewing though a smart script with passionate vigour; McAvoy rules the roost as Aiken, filling out a suit nicely and, with a flourishing beard in tow, evoking a more mature air than the majority of his roles to date. As McAvoy features in virtually every one of the film’s scenes, he gets more than a chance to shine, and his dedication to the role is unmistakable.
Other key dramatic roles are veritable slam dunks; Redford manages the staggering task of making Robin Wright look plain as the put-upon Surratt, encompassing the legal miscarriage with a pronounced humanism, and particularly in the film’s final moments, pushing the emotional buttons just right. Supporting roles rely on the vast talents of actors such as Tom Wilkinson, Kevin Kline, Danny Huston, Evan Rachel Wood, Colm Meaney, James Badge Dale and Stephen Root, while Redford also makes a few bold casting choices, giving Justin Long and Alexis Bledel solid chances to prove themselves in the dramatic arena, and they – especially Long – mostly deliver.
Redford shows himself in no hurry to rush through Surratt’s story here – a respectful approach, indeed – yet each scene slowly reveals another facet of the repugnant case built against her. Though this drip-fed approach is likely to test the patience of many, its dissection of the potential for the legal system to go awry is utterly transfixing, and still absolutely relevant today. Particularly interesting is the film’s regard for the philosophy of law and the nature of justice; the devastating trade-off is the broken spirit of a wounded country against that of a woman who, at most, was only vaguely aware of her son’s actions. Prosecutors, eager to avenge their leader’s death, blinded by patriotism, seem to lose sight of the human factor, and the film argues very successfully – especially with its closing information – that Surratt was a veritable scapegoat.
With its dense examination of legal philosophy, it’s probably going to interest law graduates more than anyone else, but for the patient viewer, The Conspirator is a treat of performance and benefits from Robert Redford’s typically stately direction.
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“The Conspirator review: Lincoln assassination”
Mick LaSalle, San Francisco Chronicle , 15 April 2011Grieving about events that occurred before we were born feels unnatural, like a rejection of a world we’ve always known. But in “The Conspirator,” director Robert Redford persuades us, if not to grieve, to understand other people’s grief and to look at the assassination of Abraham Lincoln with fresh eyes. He invites us to see it not as some immovable historical event, but as people of the time saw it, as an absolute outrage and an epic disaster.
Politically motivated and successful in its result, the assassination deprived the country of its greatest man, probably stalled civil rights for three generations and was part of a larger conspiracy. It’s surprising how few people know this: Lincoln’s assassination was just one act in a plan to decapitate the government. The same night Lincoln was murdered, Secretary of State William Seward was stabbed and almost killed, and Vice President Andrew Johnson was the target of an abortive attempt.
No wonder people were frightened – and it’s precisely that fear that Redford sets out to explore. “The Conspirator” is all about the un-American things Americans can do when feeling collectively threatened.
Did she do it?
Specifically, it’s the story of Mary Surratt, a middle-aged Washington, D.C., widow who owned the boardinghouse where the plot was hatched. Surratt – a Southern sympathizer whose son was almost certainly part of the conspiracy – was arrested and stood trial, and for almost 150 years, controversy has surrounded her name. Was she innocent? Was she a rabid conspirator? Or was she something in between?
At the time Surratt (Robin Wright Penn) is arrested, the entire North hates her guts and the national government wants her hanged as soon as possible. A Maryland senator (Tom Wilkinson) takes up her defense and is heckled and ridiculed by the military tribunal. He resigns in favor of his young colleague, the Union war hero Frederick Aiken (James McAvoy), who comes into the case hostile toward his own client, but gradually warms to the task of defending her.
As befitting a movie counseling against unbridled passion, the emotions are tepid in “The Conspirator,” but then Redford has always been a cool customer. (Chris King’s 2009 short “The Killing of Mary Surratt” packed more emotion into 23 minutes than can be found in all 123 minutes of this movie.) Redford doesn’t take a stand on Surratt’s guilt or innocence, which, given the evidence, might actually make sense. But his agnosticism closes the door on a huge potential source of drama.
To the extent the film has passion, it revolves around a cerebral, though crucial, concept: In a time of crisis, we must never be frightened into curtailing constitutionally guaranteed freedoms. The analogy being made between the aftermaths of Lincoln’s assassination and 9/11 is pertinent and clear, and yet the movie couldn’t be less subtle about it had Redford used a jackhammer. Go in expecting a spirited defense of an innocent woman, and you end up with a sermon on everyone’s right to a fair trial.
Still, working within self-imposed limits, Redford and his screenwriters devise a compelling film. Wright is enigmatic as Mary (only Wright knows if Mary did it), and McAvoy brings his usual flustered decency, very appropriate for an ambitious young man defending the least popular woman in town. Kevin Kline is a little tall and thin for the squat Secretary of War Edwin Stanton, but he has the right air of single-mindedness.
Respects history
“The Conspirator” is respectful of the historical record down to the small details: When the mortally wounded Lincoln is carried across the street and placed in bed, he is laid diagonally (the bed was too small for him). The trial scenes are enraging – the tribunal is a collection of implacable thugs. Equally engrossing are the scenes outside the courtroom. More than any other film I’ve seen about this period, “The Conspirator” creates the sense of actually being there. Whether it’s something in the color palette or in the saturation of the color or in the setting of the scenes, when Redford shows an exterior, you can almost smell the air and believe that you’re seeing 1865.
Perhaps it feels real because Redford, ever the skeptic, doesn’t romanticize it. The world he shows us is far away, but not so far that we don’t recognize.
