The difficulty in transferring an iconic, almost myth-like figure carved in granite or imprinted on currency, much like a Greek god or an Egyptian Pharoah, to a weak, vulnerable flesh-and-blood creature can be daunting indeed.
This is the task director Steven Spielberg takes upon himself in the new Touchstone/20th Century-Fox release, "Lincoln." Hollywood has tried several times to recreate some aspect of the life of the Great Emancipator, most notably in 1939 ("Young Mr. Lincoln," with Henry Fonda in the title role), 1940 ("Abe Lincoln In Illinois," with Raymond Massey), and 1974 ("Sandburg's Lincoln," with Hal Holbrook).
Incidentally, we will omit the latest incarnation, "Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter."
Now, two-time Academy Award winner Daniel Day-Lewis dons the goatee for what will surely be another Oscar-nominated performance.
Written about in contemporary reports after his martyr's death by such poets as Walt Whitman, where the flowery 19th century literation replaced the more coarse, yet realistic commentaries and biting editorial cartoons of the day, one would think Lincoln more fictional than factual.
Spielberg here walks a thin line, giving the proper amount of reverence to the character, yet allowing him to be more than human with bouts of deep melancholia, playful moments with his son, Tad (Gulliver McGrath), bitter arguments with his manic-depressive wife, Mary Todd (Sally Field, "Forrest Gump") and political strategy that makes the later presidential arm-twisting of Lyndon Baines Johnson look like a Girl Scout picnic.
The nation's 16th president, born in a log cabin, raised in Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois, a farmer, boatman, rail-splitter and traveling lawyer, was first vilified when running for the office in 1860, led the United States in her bitterest hour, was re-elected and victorious in the Civil War. Days after the surrender of the Confederate States of America, he was struck down by an assassin's bullet.
The question then, with such a wide range of life experiences to cover, where does Spielberg begin? He focuses on just four months – the last of Lincoln's life – January to April of 1865 when the South is almost crushed and Honest Abe is attempting to push through a reluctant congress the 13th Amendment to the Constitution (to outlaw slavery). The conflict is that to achieve one, he may have to cast the other out.
To appease both sides, he has to do a balancing act of amazing political skill, keeping the Republican Conservatives (led by Preston Blair, Hal Holbrook) and lame duck Democrats in line, all while dealing with the over-reaching political agenda of the Radical Republicans and reigning in their zealous anti-slavery leader, Rep. Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones, "No Country for Old Men") of Pennsylvania.
To achieve passage of the amendment, he promises Blair an ill-fated meeting with a delegation of CSA leaders, including vice president Alexander Stephens (Jack Earle Haley, "Little Children"), and instructs Secretary of State William Seward (David Strathairn, "Good Night and Good Luck") to utilize the sleazy, bloated W.N. Bilbo (James Spader, "The Practice," "The Office") to offer as many soon-to-be out of work Democrats whatever political patronage jobs he can give away.
The legislation is abhorrent to much of the nation and could possibly bring, if not Negro supremacy, then at least Negro equality to a country ripped apart by four years of death and destruction over the plight of those very slaves.
While this is going on, he continues to deal with Mary, who is still grieving over the death of her son, Willie, three years before; as well as his oldest boy, Robert Todd (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, "The Dark Knight Rises"), a bitter young man who wants to join the fray before it ends and he loses all chances for military glory.
Then, there is Lincoln's own personal demons which result in dark moments, nightmares and wracking guilt over being a party to the deaths of thousands of his countrymen. With such multiple story lines and situations, plus, clocking in at just under two hours and 30 minutes, one might suffer massive sensory overload with this ambitious biopic. Spielberg, however, acquits himself very well here, allowing the film to clip along at a faster pace than a story like this should.
This is aided greatly by Spielberg's deft hand and obvious love of the character and an engaging story (Tony Kushner) which is partly based on the book by presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin. Praise must also be extended to Janusz Kaminski's cinematography, the spot-on set design by Jim Erickson and Peter T. Frank, and amazing costumes by Joanna Johnston.
With these attributes, I can almost forgive the opening scene which features a black Union soldier arguing with the Chief Executive over equal pay for blacks and whites. It's a smarmy politically-correct moment which would most likely never taken place at the time and under the circumstances.
Then there are the performances. Day-Lewis will surely be nominated for his deeply nuanced title character, which infuses some of Massey, some Fonda, and even a bit of Lionel Barrymore's twang, but maintaining the lofty eloquence of a man with more than the weight of the world on his stooped, hunched shoulders.
He's quick-witted, skillfully sarcastic, yet able to charm his audiences with his often ribald stories which defuses many tense situations. A far cry from his bombastic take in "There Will Be Blood."
Fields, Strathairn, Gordon-Levitt, Holbrook, Haley, Spader and Lee Pace (as pro-slavery Democrat Fernando Wood) also acquit themselves very well, and the lessons of this film (a certain Best Picture nominee) are to be heeded, especially by a younger generation whose only acquaintance with the subject may have only been in staid, boring history classes. At least here - as factually accurate as Hollywood can be - the topic is alive and dynamic and interesting.
This is the task director Steven Spielberg takes upon himself in the new Touchstone/20th Century-Fox release, "Lincoln." Hollywood has tried several times to recreate some aspect of the life of the Great Emancipator, most notably in 1939 ("Young Mr. Lincoln," with Henry Fonda in the title role), 1940 ("Abe Lincoln In Illinois," with Raymond Massey), and 1974 ("Sandburg's Lincoln," with Hal Holbrook).
Incidentally, we will omit the latest incarnation, "Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter."
Now, two-time Academy Award winner Daniel Day-Lewis dons the goatee for what will surely be another Oscar-nominated performance.
Written about in contemporary reports after his martyr's death by such poets as Walt Whitman, where the flowery 19th century literation replaced the more coarse, yet realistic commentaries and biting editorial cartoons of the day, one would think Lincoln more fictional than factual.
Spielberg here walks a thin line, giving the proper amount of reverence to the character, yet allowing him to be more than human with bouts of deep melancholia, playful moments with his son, Tad (Gulliver McGrath), bitter arguments with his manic-depressive wife, Mary Todd (Sally Field, "Forrest Gump") and political strategy that makes the later presidential arm-twisting of Lyndon Baines Johnson look like a Girl Scout picnic.
The nation's 16th president, born in a log cabin, raised in Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois, a farmer, boatman, rail-splitter and traveling lawyer, was first vilified when running for the office in 1860, led the United States in her bitterest hour, was re-elected and victorious in the Civil War. Days after the surrender of the Confederate States of America, he was struck down by an assassin's bullet.
The question then, with such a wide range of life experiences to cover, where does Spielberg begin? He focuses on just four months – the last of Lincoln's life – January to April of 1865 when the South is almost crushed and Honest Abe is attempting to push through a reluctant congress the 13th Amendment to the Constitution (to outlaw slavery). The conflict is that to achieve one, he may have to cast the other out.
To appease both sides, he has to do a balancing act of amazing political skill, keeping the Republican Conservatives (led by Preston Blair, Hal Holbrook) and lame duck Democrats in line, all while dealing with the over-reaching political agenda of the Radical Republicans and reigning in their zealous anti-slavery leader, Rep. Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones, "No Country for Old Men") of Pennsylvania.
To achieve passage of the amendment, he promises Blair an ill-fated meeting with a delegation of CSA leaders, including vice president Alexander Stephens (Jack Earle Haley, "Little Children"), and instructs Secretary of State William Seward (David Strathairn, "Good Night and Good Luck") to utilize the sleazy, bloated W.N. Bilbo (James Spader, "The Practice," "The Office") to offer as many soon-to-be out of work Democrats whatever political patronage jobs he can give away.
The legislation is abhorrent to much of the nation and could possibly bring, if not Negro supremacy, then at least Negro equality to a country ripped apart by four years of death and destruction over the plight of those very slaves.
While this is going on, he continues to deal with Mary, who is still grieving over the death of her son, Willie, three years before; as well as his oldest boy, Robert Todd (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, "The Dark Knight Rises"), a bitter young man who wants to join the fray before it ends and he loses all chances for military glory.
Then, there is Lincoln's own personal demons which result in dark moments, nightmares and wracking guilt over being a party to the deaths of thousands of his countrymen. With such multiple story lines and situations, plus, clocking in at just under two hours and 30 minutes, one might suffer massive sensory overload with this ambitious biopic. Spielberg, however, acquits himself very well here, allowing the film to clip along at a faster pace than a story like this should.
This is aided greatly by Spielberg's deft hand and obvious love of the character and an engaging story (Tony Kushner) which is partly based on the book by presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin. Praise must also be extended to Janusz Kaminski's cinematography, the spot-on set design by Jim Erickson and Peter T. Frank, and amazing costumes by Joanna Johnston.
With these attributes, I can almost forgive the opening scene which features a black Union soldier arguing with the Chief Executive over equal pay for blacks and whites. It's a smarmy politically-correct moment which would most likely never taken place at the time and under the circumstances.
Then there are the performances. Day-Lewis will surely be nominated for his deeply nuanced title character, which infuses some of Massey, some Fonda, and even a bit of Lionel Barrymore's twang, but maintaining the lofty eloquence of a man with more than the weight of the world on his stooped, hunched shoulders.
He's quick-witted, skillfully sarcastic, yet able to charm his audiences with his often ribald stories which defuses many tense situations. A far cry from his bombastic take in "There Will Be Blood."
Fields, Strathairn, Gordon-Levitt, Holbrook, Haley, Spader and Lee Pace (as pro-slavery Democrat Fernando Wood) also acquit themselves very well, and the lessons of this film (a certain Best Picture nominee) are to be heeded, especially by a younger generation whose only acquaintance with the subject may have only been in staid, boring history classes. At least here - as factually accurate as Hollywood can be - the topic is alive and dynamic and interesting.