Lecture: George Clooney
George Clooney in conversation with Professor Marcia Rock. Photo: Peter Williams.
Just before 5:00 P.M. on December 15, NYU’s 19 University place was overflowing with some 200 journalism students and faculty members. The crowd was eager to hear George Clooney discuss his recent film, Good Night, and Good Luck, about broadcast news pioneer Edward R. Murrow. Suddenly, the audience’s excited buzz surged in volume: Clooney had arrived, flanked unexpectedly by co-stars David Strathairn and Grant Heslov.
A critical smash-hit, the movie has won Golden Globe nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, and Best Actor (Strathairn). It won the FIPRESCI (Fédération Internationale de la Presse Cinématographique) Prize, the Golden Osella for best screenplay, the Pasinetti Award for best film, and special mention for the Human Rights Film Network Award at the 2005 Venice Film Festival. It was also nominated for the Screen International Award, at the European Film Awards, and the Best Ensemble Cast at the Gotham Awards. Not since Alan Pakula’s 1976 film All the President’s Men has a movie so vividly illustrated journalism’s mandate to expose government corruption.
Directed by George Clooney and co-written by Clooney and actor-producer Grant Heslov, Good Night, and Good Luck chronicles Murrow’s dogged investigation of Senator Joseph McCarthy’s witch-hunt for Communist infiltrators in Hollywood and the U.S. government and military. The plot revolves around the case of Lieutenant Milo Radulovich, a U.S. Air Force reservist who was discharged because he was deemed guilty—by association—of Communist leanings (the Air Force suspected his father and sister of being left-wing sympathizers). For Murrow, a veteran reporter and host of CBS’s news documentary series See It Now, the Radulovich affair was an opportunity to expose the groundless nature of McCarthy’s allegations as well as his abuses of power.
In Good Night, and Good Luck, Strathairn plays Murrow, an icon of broadcast journalism at its tough-minded best and “one of those rare legendary figures who was as good as his myth,” according to David Halberstam’s book, The Powers That Be. Clooney plays the crusading reporter’s staunchest ally, CBS producer Fred Friendly. Heslov portrays Don Hewitt, the director of See It Now.
Thursday’s crowd quickly warmed to Clooney, who peppered his lecture on the political power of good journalism with humorous anecdotes. Instead of discussing the making of the film, he and the other actors focused on Murrow’s impact, the state of journalism today, and how films can help increase the political awareness of moviegoers.
The son of television newscaster and Cincinnati talk show host Nick Clooney, the actor developed a passion for journalism at a young age. Growing up, Clooney saw Murrow as the gold standard for courageous, principled journalism. “Murrow was always the high water mark for broadcast journalists,” the actor told Jeff Otto, a writer for the entertainment-media website Ign.com, in October 2005. Murrow established a benchmark, said Clooney, one he believes “no one [can] ever reach again.” That doesn’t mean, however, that great reporting is dead, Clooney told Cinema Confidential, in October of last year. There are still many good journalists, he noted. “It is the [press’s] responsibility to constantly question power, no matter who’s in power,” he said.
Clooney hopes that viewers of Good Night, and Good Luck will be reminded of this responsibility when they see the film. He stressed that every great historical event that has catalyzed change was spurred by the work of journalists. In Clooney’s opinion, history alternates between periods of political awareness and apathy. Political action is often driven by fear, said Clooney; people are roused from their apathy when events compel them to defend their rights. But fear can also motivate people to cede those rights, he noted, and McCarthy capitalized on fear. Anyone invested with that much authority is destined to abuse it, argued Clooney. “Power, unchallenged, corrupts—no matter who it is,” he said, recalling one his father’s favorite maxims.
Nonetheless, Clooney is optimistic. He believes we may be breaking free from this pattern, maturing into a society that doesn’t need fear to jumpstart political action. He described how news outlets and entertainment media, such as John Stewart’s Daily Show, are increasing public awareness of political issues by asking probing questions. Blogs, documentaries, and movies don’t just entertain, said Clooney; they spread knowledge about important current events. He chooses his projects with this in mind. “I’m up for doing any film that questions the issues,” he said.
However, he was careful to clarify that it’s how one raises thorny issues that determines whether a critique flies or flops. “It depends on [whether] you stand on a soapbox preaching, and [it] depends on what the issues are,” he said. What is important to Clooney is that journalists increase public awareness of events and issues rather than simply trying to create controversy or sway people towards a certain political ideology. Clooney believes Murrow brought clarity to the masses in the 1950s. Journalists should learn from his example, said Clooney, because the battles that were being fought then are still going on. Again, Clooney quoted his father: of the struggle between the democratic vision and those who dream of unchallenged power, Nick Clooney said, “It’s waged and never won.”
Throughout Clooney’s lecture, it became increasingly evident that the actor’s father had a lot to do with how Clooney and his collaborators approached the film. “He’s the guy who always did the right thing,” said Clooney. The actors’ respect for Nick Clooney was apparent when they quoted his advice to the filmmakers. “One of the things that George’s father said was, 'Make sure you get the facts straight,’” recalled Heslov. The actors took his words to heart. “We were literally double-sourcing every scene in this film,” Clooney said. The goal was to depict Murrow in as accurate and truthful a light as possible. “It was important to not do renditions or reinterpretations,” said Straithairn. “We weren’t doing the Ray version of Murrow,” added Heslov, referring to Taylor Hackford’s 2004 bio-pic about Ray Charles, a film that Miami Herald critic Rene Rodriguez claimed “fail[ed] to present a genuine portrait of a complex man’s essence.”
Straithairn quoted Clooney senior on every journalist’s responsibility: “To help those who have less power than you, and question those who have more power.” At the height of McCarthy’s power, Murrow did just that. Even so, Good Night, and Good Luck doesn’t glorify Murrow, although the three actors’ admiration for the renowned journalist was apparent to the audience. “He was the king,” said Clooney. “He really walked down the street and had all of the respect.”
Strathairn agreed. Studying Murrow’s character involved spending time with the legendary reporter’s words, he said, an experience that made him understand just how much Murrow had sacrificed in order to follow the dictates of his conscience. While preparing for the role, said Strathairn, “I came up with this cockamamie image of him as a cigarette. Something burned him, from the inside out.” Strathairn seemed conflicted about whether the stress resulting from the reporter’s passion for truth was something that slowly destroyed Murrow, a guy who would “stand in the middle of the fire telling you how hot it was.” On the other hand, said Strathairn, “How can you self-destruct if you say what you believe?”
Strathairn encouraged the students in the audience to speak out as Murrow did, to follow his example of telling it like it is, whether people—or the powers that be—like it or not. “You’re making a choice for what you want [the audience] to see,” said Strathairn. He warned that there would be complications, such as money and timing. How can socially-minded journalists overcome decision-makers’ reluctance to attack real issues?, a student wondered. “It’s up to you,” exclaimed Clooney. Journalism is broken? “Fix it!,” he quipped, a line that earned a roar of laughter from the crowd.