Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours, 11 minutes
Director: Clint Eastwood
Quick Impressions:
Kathy Bates absolutely deserves a nomination for Best Supporting Actress for her work here, and I’m now officially rooting for her. The only stronger Supporting Actress performance I’ve seen this year is (arguably) Jennifer Lopez in Hustlers. Of course, I have not yet had the opportunity to see Bombshell or Little Women.
I just wanted to get that off my chest right off the bat. I justified my choice to see this movie by saying that Bates could get an Oscar nomination. After seeing her work, I would be heartbroken if she does not. The film itself has some weaknesses, but overall its performances are strong, and snubbing Bates would be ridiculous.
In perfect honesty, though, I actually wanted to see Richard Jewell because of interest in the subject matter. I’m only sometimes a fan of Clint Eastwood as a director. I almost never warm to his most acclaimed films and always seem to like instead the ones that get sort of lukewarm reception from the world at large. For example, I liked J. Edgar and outright loved Changeling. I usually prefer Eastwood’s dives into actual history and think of the movies as a jumping off point. The Wineville Chicken Coop murders are pretty fascinating stuff. After seeing Changeling, I read everything I could find on microfilm and even worked the topic into a class assignment. (Reading old newspapers is so fascinating. I love how the other stories on the page provide context you would never think to look for yourself.)
I knew nothing about the Chicken Coop murders until I saw Eastwood’s film, but Richard Jewell I remember so well. My sister and I obsessed over the 1996 Olympic games in Atlanta. For what seemed like six months (but must have been more like two weeks), we ate, slept, and dreamed Olympics. I’m not sure why. I was about to be a senior in high school. She was six years younger. Neither of us was particularly athletic, but we started out obsessed with women’s gymnastics and quickly became obsessed with the whole thing. Muhammad Ali! Janet Evans! Dominique Moceanu until it was Keri Strug. Alexander Popov vs Gary Hall, Jr.! What became a lifetime obsession with Tim Daggett as a commentator we could trust! Maybe part of what hooked us was the incessant media build up of our athletes leading up to the games. Also, because of the convenient location, everything was broadcast in real time. We watched all day, every day, and quickly realized that the media coverage was a national embarrassment. Some of the U.S. reporters were downright rude to the athletes (occasionally obliviously). (Watching Alexander Popov storm off dramatically and later offer a backhanded compliment to the journalists who had insulted him was a great joy.) The whole thing was a big media circus even before the bomb in Centennial Park.
When I mentioned to several people that Clint Eastwood’s new movie was about Richard Jewell, it took them a minute to remember him. Then they were unable to recall if he was actually behind the bombings or not.
To me, this was outrageous. The incident struck a chord with me at the time. I remember well. Richard Jewell was innocent. The media pointed the finger at him before the investigation was finished. They dragged his name through the mud and ruined his life, when, in fact, not only was he not the bomber, but he was a hero who first realized the danger and acted fast to save lives. When nobody I talked to about the upcoming movie could remember if Jewell did it or not, my outrage was awakened anew. Those hastily printed false accusations really did permanently stain the life of an innocent man.
Unless, of course, he did it. To be honest, once the FBI dropped Jewell as a suspect, I never once suspected his guilt…until I saw this movie. Based on what I know of Eastwood’s politics, I am assuming his intention was to portray Jewell sympathetically. But maybe not. I can’t help but wonder if Eastwood is not quite as old and crazy as the people who have written him off lately seem to think. Perhaps he has created a nuanced and ambiguous film on purpose. I see no reason to underestimate him. At any rate, his film teases the possibility the Jewell is guilty whether he intends it to or not. (I’d love to know if this is suggested by Billy Ray’s screenplay, Eastwood’s direction, or simply my imagination.)
The Good:
This film is superbly acted and highly watchable. At times it’s a little too easy to identify and root against the bad guys (played by Jon Hamm and Olivia Wilde who appear to be in a Victorian melodrama), but I’ll get to that later.
Paul Walter Hauser gives his best performance to date, and he’s already been quite a scene stealer in I, Tonya and BlacKkKlansman. The Best Actor race is crowded, but I wouldn’t count him out completely. (I personally think having such a surfeit of worthy contenders vying for limited spots makes it more possible than usual for some surprise guest to sneak into the banquet. The line-up doesn’t feel set in stone.)
Kathy Bates is magnificent. I had heard she had one big scene, but she also has innumerable small moments that I liked even better than the big scene. The performance is so strong. Honestly, I’ll be stunned and saddened if she doesn’t make the Oscar line-up. She’s a great actress, anyway. I remember being my daughter’s age, unimpressed with Pet Sematary, and convinced I didn’t like horror movies. And then I saw Misery. What a film! What a performance! What’s best about her work in this film is the authenticity of her performance. I believed she was Bobi Jewell. I believed I was watching that woman onscreen. I believed in the reality of the character. I always believed her. I feel like I’ve known several Bobi Jewells myself.
Sam Rockwell I just love. Long ago I didn’t care for him much. Then I saw Three Billboards, and he reaffirmed my faith in movies, and now I love him in everything. He’s fantastic here, and he has a huge part, though it doesn’t seem particularly Oscar baity. (As I said to my husband in the car, in Jojo Rabbit, Rockwell has a smaller part, but his moments feel more special.) No complaints from me, though, if somebody wants to give him an award for his work here.
I loved Nina Arianda in her scene-stealing role in Stan & Ollie, and she lights up the screen here, too. She’s plays such a sympathetic character so charmingly.
Another star of the film is Arturo Sandoval’s lovely score.
Audiences should respond well to this movie (if they ever go see it). We were in an enormous auditorium with maybe ten other people, but they were very vocal, at moments laughing and cheering. I cried a lot at the disgusting injustice of it all. It’s pretty hard not to emphasize with Kathy Bates. The real Bobi Jewell needs to send her flowers.
I also enjoyed the scenes from the actual 1996 Olympics. I remember–so vividly–Muhammad Ali receiving the torch and lighting the cauldron. The movie is not about crazy camera angles and surprising editing choices. It moves quickly from scene to scene and feels real and ordinary. I liked its ordinariness. It helped me to get sucked into the story.
Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Kathy Bates:
Obviously her big monologue is good, but I like Bates even more in her smaller moments. Her reactions during the FBI’s search of her house are amazing. In fact, the search of the house was perhaps my favorite part of the movie. So much happens during that time.
Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Paul Walter Hauser:
Hauser shines as Richard has an emotional breakdown, trying to convey his actual feelings of anger and frustration to his attorney. Jewell is such a character, and Hauser shows us so much complexity. I kept wondering if the character was on the autism spectrum. He clearly misreads social cues and sometimes seems not to understand basic things, but then we realize he’s incredibly informed and amazingly observant. He’s quite a puzzle.
Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Sam Rockwell:
I doubt Rockwell will be nominated, but I love him. I like the realization on his face when he times the walk to the phone booth.
The Negatives:
The movie’s most glaring weakness is the way it portrays Kathy Scruggs, the reporter who first named Richard Jewell as a suspect. Olivia Wilde’s performance is totally over-the-top, but I’m sure Eastwood’s direction is the reason for that. Wilde is big with tons of energy and presence. She’s good. She really sells the character, but the character she’s selling is poorly written, and almost shamefully used, which is not her fault.
The real Kathy Scruggs died in 2001. This version of her seems to have been created by her worst enemies and comes across as inadvertently misogynistic at best. (I feel like her worst enemy is describing her to us. “She just always thought she was better than the rest of us. She dressed real slutty and was mean to everyone. They always printed her stories, probably because she slept her way to the top.” I believe the misogyny is unintentional, but it’s still there. Of course she’s aggressive about getting a scoop. She’s a journalist.) At worst, this version of Scruggs is an out-and-out hatchet job, ironic given that the film wants to redeem Richard Jewell from the hatchet job she did on him. Basically, instead of a nuanced investigation of how the press works, what might have motivated this reporter, and what went wrong, we get the exchange of one scapegoat for another. The film would be more interesting if Kathy were a sympathetic character who makes a mistake or even an unlikable character whose motivations are more closely and realistically examined. As is, she acts like Regina George in Mean Girls for no apparent reason. It’s fun, but it’s not working. I mean, she could have done just as much harm and been Sally Field in Absence of Malice. I think that would have been better for the movie overall.
Even worse, the movie clumsily tries to redeem Scruggs a bit at the eleventh hour. This is ridiculous. She isn’t Ebenezer Scrooge, and her transformation is rushed and, frankly, unbelievable. If she really is the person we’re shown through most of the movie, there is precisely a zero percent chance that she cares about Jewell’s guilt or innocence one way or another. She would care if he was convicted because that would be her headline. She does not care about him as a person. And she does not care about what is “right.” To her, publishing the best story first is right. Maybe we are supposed to believe she’s some kind of tragic figure, too blinded by her arrogance to see the truth until it’s too late. But this rings false. She seems like the villain in a Hallmark Christmas movie appearing in a normal drama alongside regular people for some reason. Why would one lecture make her change completely?
Wilde actually does give a delightful performance, but it’s in the wrong movie. That’s not her fault. After seeing the film, I did read that Scruggs actually was a larger-than-life sort of character in reality. (She once broke into a murder scene by climbing in a window, then greeted police when they got there by asking, “Where have you been?”!!!) And she was apparently haunted by the way her integrity as a journalist was called into question after the Richard Jewell scandal. But that’s not what we get in the movie. In the movie, she’s like, “Hahaha! I’m so wicked!” then suddenly, she’s weeping for Jewell, realizing, “Oh no! I’ve been so evil!” Maybe more time should have been spent developing the fictional version of the character. Then that better thought out character could have been given more space to exist and develop in the movie. The way the movie treats the college dean who speaks to the FBI is closer to the treatment Scruggs could get. He seems well meaning with legitimate concerns, though he ultimately turns out to be wrong. Why is Scruggs vilified?
I don’t like Jon Hamm’s character either. His performance is less jarring than Wilde’s, but his character just doesn’t have the authentic feel of the protagonists. He just feels like an inadequately researched, disposable villain.
Why did the media jump on Richard Jewell? Why did the press destroy him without a shred of evidence? I’d like a more thorough explanation of what made that happen. Surely it wasn’t just two jerks. For one thing, the American public rapidly soaked up and believed all of those lies about Jewell. Why? This part of the story is underdeveloped, and it’s the most crucial part given the alarming state of our nation today when we’re all at each other’s throats constantly, trusting no one and believing everything. The American public plays a role in the tragedy of Richard Jewell as well. This could have been a story about the alarming power of the 24 hour news cycle, emergent in the 90s and absolutely out of control now. Of course, what it does show is that anyone can look guilty on paper. Sometimes the difference between a criminal and an innocent person is as simple as committing the crime.
My husband also mentioned that the crowd scenes in the film aren’t great. Nobody in the crowds seems too enthused. Their behavior feels a bit too flat (even when they’re meticulously performing the new dance craze of 1996, the Macarena). And I agree with him. I get the point that the FBI guy and the evil reporter stand apart from the people, but the people don’t seem to be having all that much fun either.
Also I am aware that Eastwood has very theatrically embraced some unpopular political opinions of late. It’s not hard to guess why this topic would appeal to him. But forget about the outspoken director. Set aside his politics for a moment. The movie he has made is still good, even examined through other lenses. Eastwood and I don’t see eye to eye on much, but I do like his film. It’s deeply flawed but still one of the better films of the year. The central sympathetic performances are outstanding, and the story is both captivating and true.
There is one odd element, though. Whether intentionally or not, this movie made me question Richard Jewell’s innocence, which I never did before. My husband had the same reaction. “Of course, I’m sure that’s unintentional,” he said. I’m not so sure. I think some people are being too quick to write off Clint Eastwood. He’s old, not dead. He’s made some great films, and there’s no reason to assume he didn’t intend the surprising complexity in this one. I’m not completely sure (about Eastwood’s intentions or Jewell’s innocence). But the ambiguity here could be coming from screenwriter Billy Ray, who also wrote about a morally complex situation in Captain Phillips.
Overall:
I went in fascinated by the subject matter and eager to watch the story unfold, and Richard Jewell did not disappoint me. All the performances are excellent, and Kathy Bates is Oscar worthy. I actually think this latest Eastwood effort is a surprisingly strong film with one rather obvious Achilles’ heel, its offensive portrayal of reporter Kathy Scruggs. Still Richard Jewell is both thought-provoking and entertaining to a general audience. I think most people will like it if they watch it, but so far, almost nobody is.