Film Review - Richard Jewell (15)

I'm sorry the world has gone insane.

Seems like it's Based-on-fact January here at UK cinemas. What with Bombshell and Just Mercy we're getting an influx of sobering stories rooted in America's recent past, none of them quite so unusual as Clint Eastwood's Richard Jewell. Those other real-life tales have a sharp and obvious contemporary relevance, but this new entry in the Eastwood canon gets in a few digs of its own at unsavoury aspects of modern life - despite it's being a leap back in history. It's a story obviously close to the veteran director's heart and as such makes for one of his best recent films - and a noble attempt to right an egregious wrong.

The Richard Jewell of the title was a well-meaning but socially awkward individual, who in his capacity as security guard prevented a mass-slaughter at the 1996 Los Angeles Olympics. His recognition and reporting of a terrorist bomb limited the casualties and in the days following he was - understandably - hailed as a hero. But when he turned into the FBI's number one suspect for the crime, that spotlight turned scarily cold, particularly when the news was leaked to the press. Thus began a trial by media, while Richard and his mother fought against forces of law and order seemingly determined to convict him.

One thing that strikes hard watching this film is how much a part of history 1996 now feels. The world of the film is one where a female journalist will unambiguously use her sexuality to get a story that has no business in the public domain. Where print and television are still the prevailing news media (but capable of wreaking damage in a person's life without the aid of social media). Where a terrorist bombing on pre-9/11 American soil will be reasonably presumed to have been carried out by a socially marginalised white male. It's the last of these that helps snare Jewell - and with an honest screenplay from Billy Ray and an excellent central performance from Paul Walter Hauser, we see precisely how.

Jewell, as portrayed here, is a far-from-typical hero. With his po-faced determination to make a career in law enforcement, he comes across as a frustrating jobsworth and the natural butt of his work colleagues' jokes. The script does a great job of showing why the FBI become convinced he is the bomber, so closely does he fit their profile and so guilelessly does he incriminate himself. With his innate trust that anyone with a badge can be trusted, he's more likely to irritate at first, before finally engaging our sympathies. It's a funny-sad but ultimately fully human performace from Hauser (already so good as a hilariously bumbling crook in I, Tonya and as one of Emma Thompson's writing team in Late Night). We come to Richard's admirable qualities, but we're taken the long way round in a tour de force - if awards-neglected - performance.

Kathy Bates has been more smiled-upon by the Academy, having attained a Best Supporting nomination for her role as Richard's mother. It's earned too - she's instantly likeable as an unassuming home-bird and doting mom, proud of her son even before his heroic deed and thus heartbreakingly bewildered when fate turns against her boy. Equally good and a dramatic driving-force in the story is Sam 'Incapable-of-a-mediocre-performance' Rockwell, as Jewell's lawyer and, ultimately, his best friend Watson Bryant. Rockwell plays it as an irascible good-guy with a heart of gold, constantly (and comically) frustrated by his client's apparent inablity to follow instructions that will keep him from further trouble. A lovely, touching chemistry evolves between these three leads, one aided by Stan and Ollie's scene-stealing Nina Arianda as Bryant's PA/partner Nadya.

There are no out-and-out villains here, but there are characters who represent what clearly annoys director Eastwood about society. Jon Hamm is the stubbornly determined FBI agent trying to charge Richard; you see his motivations, but also his intransigence in the face of evidence that contradicts his initial hunch. (It's the same bloody-mindedness as in Just Mercy - minus the racial element, but potentially as destructive.) And Olivia Wilde's gung-ho reporter represents elements of the press that put the story ahead of privacy rights or indeed the truth. (One aspersion cast in her character's direction has, it should be said, stirred a deal of controversy.) There's anger bubbling here, and not just in the movie's leads.

Eastwood clearly knows he has a great story here and the great man lets it do the talking. His direction is clean and unfussy, though he does push the conventionality in moments conveying Jewell's experience of PTSD in the bombing's wake and the investigation's throes. If the pace is rather too slow in the latter stages, that ultimately doesn't detract from the power of this story. It's one of humanity and tragedy, where an ordinary man ends up in a media circus of others' making and where his good deed is grievously punished. Not perhaps as shattering as Just Mercy or as keen-edged as Bombshell, it has a power of its own nonetheless - and some tough lessons to be taken away.

Gut Reaction: A lot of cringing at poor Richard's misplaced trust, laughter courtesy of Rockwell and a few sniffles (thank you Kathy Bates).

Memorable Moment: Our hero-turned-victim finally gets angry with the Man.

Ed's Verdict: 7.5/10. Under-performing at the box-office through no fault of its own, Clint's movie deserves a big audience, as does Richard Jewell's story. A fine and well-told human drama of people who should have been treated a whole lot better.