Tormenta sobre Washington

Advise & Consent is a fascinating look at the inner workings of the United States Senate. I like the exploration of both the formality of proceedings when they are in session and the informality of what can go on behind the scenes. All the back-stabbing and secret deals that we see in the film kept me on my toes. I never knew which way this story was headed, and that's always refreshing. I also find it fascinating that almost 60 years ago they were also dealing with some of the difficulties that come with our two-party system, and had to confront the fact that personal vendettas and pettiness can get in the way of Senators doing what their constituents might actually desire. It's more than a little depressing because it doesn't fill me with much hope for our nation when we are stuck in these troubling times, but at least seeing it played out in a film this way feels informative.

Advise & Consent is a real ensemble piece. There are times when we will follow one character for a few minutes to see the part they would play in this vote, but it never locks in on one person long enough to have a true protagonist. This added to the element of surprise, making it even harder to predict which way the story might go. There were a number of powerful scenes that I loved, and those made up for some of the slower scenes where it felt like we were getting stuck in the tedium of Senate procedures. I did find that the end of the film was a bit too convenient, which made it seem contrived. It's certainly the appropriate Hollywood ending, but in real life it is rare that things would time out as perfectly as we see here. That being said, the story of Advise & Consent is still a good one, and this film feels entertaining and maybe just a little educational at the same time.

Although I had seen it when it first came out (I was 18) and again about about 6 months ago (Winter, 2004), this screening (May, 2005) was even more insightful.

It really has aged very well, and is, obviously, at least as relevant today as it was in 1962 --"realistic" in its depiction of the congressional situation in its own day, positively prescient in its relation to our own.

Fonda is good, but curiously second fiddle to the other, more subtle characters.

It's Walter Pigeon's best flick (by far), well cast as the Senate Majority Leader and he carries the role off with an almost Shakespearean aplomb.

Almost Charles Laughton's best (only because that's a very hard call), with his hopelessly crumpled white suit and hat, shufflin' gait, positively Irvinesque homespun witticisms and wonderful, drawling, contemptuous "Mis-ter Rob-ert A. Leff-in-well".

Might be Franchot Tone's best, as well, as the ailing, frail, chain-smoking president, a little bit too close to Life (filmed 6 years before he died of lung cancer).

Gene Tierney is very good as the D.C. socialite hostess "Dolly Harrison" --a character clearly based on Averill Harriman's wife Pamela or, as a type, a later Katherine Graham.

Definitely Peter Lawford's best film --which, admittedly, is not saying much, but he's very well cast as a rather dissolute, philandering Kennedyesque senator who is, nonetheless, not without his Qualities.

Lew Ayres' Casper Milquetoast "Vice President Harley M. Hudson" is an excellently wrought character, from his "bucket of warm spit" role as the impotent President of the Senate to the wonderful twist he gives it at the end, which expounds quite beautifully the subtleties and definitiveness of the Reality of Power.

The scenes of D.C. are positively nostalgic --imagine anyone being able to catch a cab to the capital and then walk right up the steps and go inside ; or an aged night-watchman making his rounds as *the* Security for the inside of the Senate building.

As are the various aspects of the underground "Gay Scene" in NYC with the wonderfully cast Larry Tucker, Jerry Fielding's fine music and "the voice of Frank Sinatra" (as credited). (Some might object to the "clichés" in these scenes, but, to me, those clichés are part and parcel of the ambiance of the period of the film and the culture it portrays and should be seen as such --rather like appreciating the overt racism in "Birth of a Nation" for what it is. I am glad that Preminger didn't "sanitize" his presentation of this matter, especially given the crucial nature of it to the plot of the film.)

But the contrast between the civility --albeit occasionally a rather raw one-- of the senate of circa 1960 and that of the present day is not nostalgic quite so much as it is just heart-rending ("The World We Have Lost"), and the roots of our present grotesque, take-no-prisoners congressional savagery are fully exposed in the intertwined plot lines of McCarthyesque ideological rigidity and homosexual blackmail.

All in all, a "Roman à Clef" to the political world of 1960's Washington, vividly relevant to our own time.

Advise and Consent (1962)

A moving look at a fictional moment in American politics. We see the dirty deals behind the scenes, but also that dignity and wisdom is preserved by some of the men (and one woman, shown). And we see the power of the system, the value of begrudging respect for those with opposite views, and plain old simplicity of being on the Senate floor and making points, orally, in front of a bunch of others, some of them actually listening.

Reminds me of my classrooms, and that brings government down to a level of believability. That's the secret to the movie, overall, it's ability to make the people real, including a host of really great actors like Charles Laughton and Walter Pidgeon, and of course Henry Fonda, who has a smaller role. Franchot Tone makes a believable ailing president, and it's great to see Gene Tierney in 1962, perfectly cast as a cool, smiley Senator's wife.

Otto Preminger is one of those revered directors who was always tweaking the moral edges of Hollywood, and therefore of America, and the spectacular thread that rises as the movie goes along, of a homosexual subculture existing at all in 1962, and arising from the activity of soldiers, and penetrating the Senate directly, was weirdly controversial stuff. Of course, it's almost ridiculous now, but it wasn't then, and to hear the central senator refer to another senator's gay military experience as a "tired old sin" is hard stuff for those of use who have grown up thinking "each to their own," or even "don't ask don't tell."

Preminger also irked a few anti-Communists by using a couple of left-wing actors, including Burgess Meredith, who has a small but memorable role. And the whole notion of a potential Secretary of State once having been superficially involved in a "Communist cell block" is interesting here partly because it shows how silly accusations can be, attacking things you do when you're twenty and have fully rejected or outgrown. Fonda is that figure of utter respectability for the good reason that he represents utter morality and patriotism, without become a cardboard flag-waver.

Though released to a public well into the Kennedy era, it feels like an Eisenhower world, with a couple younger senators easily looking like the Kennedy type, but still not President. The belligerent Old South conservative is, tellingly, a Democrat, back in the days when the South was pretty much conservative democratic. There are no parties mentioned, actually, but the leading voices seem to be liberal in their foreign policy, more like the Kennedy tone (or from the 50s, the tone of Adlai Stevenson, who lost the nomination bid to Kennedy in 1960). The book that led to the movie, by Allen Drury, was finished in 1959, and Drury was a bit of a right-winger, critical of the media he was part of, and openly anti-Communist. The events in the story (book and movie both) take one notable liberty: the Senator with a "homosexual scandal" in his past was Lester Hunt of Wyoming, whose son was a homosexual. That was enough to make the father a blackmail target, leading to Hunt's suicide.

That none of this matters is tribute to the movie, which really captures 1950s style American politics in a bright, Hollywood way. I mean that positively. It's not a gritty documentary, and it doesn't make scandal out of everything. But the air is familiar, the tone, the looks, the clothes. And it is supremely well done, from the dignified camera-work (nothing film noir here) to the solid editing and storytelling, to of course the acting itself. Not exciting, but very involving and interesting.

As a Congressional correspondent for the New York Times during the 1950s, author Allen Drury had ample opportunity to witness Washington politicians in their natural habit---and drew upon numerous factual sources, including the controversial Alger Hiss case and the scandalous suicide of Senator Lester Hunt, to create the story of a controversial nominee for Secretary of State. The novel was not only a best seller, it was awarded the Pulitzer Prize.

It was also a book that Hollywood could not film under the film industry's notorious Production Code. As it happened, the book fell into the hands of director Otto Preminger, long-time foe of Hollywood's rules for self-censorship. He not only made the film, he flagrantly broke the code; as such, ADVISE AND CONSENT presents our nation's leaders embroiled in a blackmail plot, finds actress Gene Tierney using the word 'bitch,' and became the first Hollywood film to show a gay bar. It was shocking stuff for 1962.

The story is extremely convoluted. An aging and extremely ill President makes a highly controversial nomination for Secretary of State---which is opposed by a member of his own party, who bears the nominee a personal grudge and who attempts to derail the nomination by accusing the nominee of former membership in the Communist Party. This in turn touches off a vicious battle between those in the party who support the nominee and those who don't, a battle that will ultimately result in the suicide of the only character who has the integrity we would like to see in our political leaders.

The cast is indeed remarkable and, from Lew Ayres to Betty White, plays with considerable conviction and tremendous restraint. Henry Fonda is often cited as the star of the film, but in truth he appears in the small but pivotal role of Robert Leffingwell, nominee for Secretary of State. Screen time is divided between Walter Pigeon as the Majority Leader, Charles Laughton as the senator who opposes the nomination, and Don Murray, an idealist who finds himself chairing the nomination committee. All three play extremely well, but it is really Laughton---in his final screen role---who walks off with the film as the devious and openly vicious Senator from South Carolina. The trio is ably supported by a dream cast that includes Franchot Tone as the President, Lew Ayres as the Vice President, George Grizzard as a growling ideologue, Gene Tierney as a society hostess---and yes, Betty White, who offers a brief turn as the Senator from Kansas.

It has become fashionable to dismiss Otto Preminger films of the 1950s and 1960s as ponderous, all-star, and pseudo-intellectual trash, and indeed it is difficult to find much positive to say about films like EXODUS and HURRY SUNDOWN these days. But Preminger is in many ways under-rated; his films have not always dated well in terms of subject, but they hold up extremely well in the way in which they are put together, with ADVISE AND CONSENT a case in point---and it is worth pointing out that accusations of leftism, adultery, and homosexuality are still enough to prompt everything from impeachment to congressional hearings to resignations. Nor has the process of the political dance itself changed greatly between then and now.

The great flaw of the film is its conclusion, which seems facile to the point of being hokey---but this is also the great flaw of the novel, which ends in much the same way--and at times ADVISE AND CONSENT seems more than a little dry. All the same, it remains a movie worth watching, particularly notable for its performances, fluid camera work, and meticulous recreation of party politics. The DVD offers a near-pristine widescreen transfer with good sound quality and an interesting, if occasionally too academic, commentary by film historian Drew Casper. Recommended.

GFT, Amazon Reviewer

Allen Drury's sprawling novel of Washington intrigue gets a bit over-condensed in Wendell Mayes' screenplay--the exposition comes fast and furious and unconvincing, and some important subplots in the book, such as the space race, are altogether missing. But what's left is pretty juicy and compelling, as Secretary of State nominee Henry Fonda (top-billed, but with surprisingly little screen time) sets off a destructive round of politicking that ends in death, destruction, and satisfying upholding of the Constitution. Preminger handles the gay subplot with as little subtlety as you'd expect, and while he was clearly trying to show some sympathy to an oppressed minority, he comes off as a square homophobe. Don Murray is oversold as an Ideal Husband and Father to artificially ratchet up the poignancy, and as his wife, Inga Swenson just cries and cries, and seems a shrew and a scold. But the dialog is sharp, even with all the overexposition, and the cast is wonderful: Peter Lawford as a Kennedy-esque Rhode Island senator, Burgess Meredith as a weak witness, George Grizzard as a Roy Cohn-like meddler, Gene Tierney as Pamela Harriman more or less, Charles Laughton as a tasty-ham Southern senator, Lew Ayres as a Vice President with hidden strength, Franchot Tone as the horse-trading President, and Walter Pidgeon as the sort of Majority Leader Nancy Pelosi or Harry Reid should aspire to be. Even such solid character actors as Paul Ford, Russ Brown, and Betty White turn up in tiny parts. The cinematography's clean and uncluttered, and while this congressional bunch is far more articulate and epigrammatic than our own, the theme of backstage double-dealing feels more relevant than ever. Very fast-moving, and dated as it is, it still packs a wallop.