“Richard Jewell” is a matter-of-fact, step-by-step procedural that feels so old-school, so simply but powerfully rendered to the viewer, that it could have only come from director Clint Eastwood’s just-tell-the-story brand of cinema.
In case you weren’t aware, the film is based on the true story of Richard Jewell, a security guard during the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games, who discovered a bomb at the Olympic village and tried to evacuate the grounds before it would detonate. Jewell is hailed as a hero by the press and the public — his 15 minutes of fame stretches out for almost a week, that is until the police start investigating the drama and decide that Jewell could be a suspect and, in fact, responsible for entire the bomb hoax. Word leaks out that the FBI, repped by agent Tom Shaw (Jon Hamm, in a muscular but excellent performance), is now seizing Jewell’s gun collection from his home and, voila, an unfair smear campaign against a heroic act is born.
The leak came from Atlanta Journal-Constitution reporter Kathy Scruggs (a nastily delivered performance from Olivia Wilde), who, according to Eastwood’s movie, sleeps with the FBI guy to get the scoop. Slut-shaming? That’s what some of the film’s detractors are accusing Eastwood and screenwriter Billy Ray of doing, but, for a film that hews close to the proven facts of the case, it remains the only irk one may have with the film. You see, the FBI did investigate Jewell. The press did paint him as a villain — even Bobi’s beloved Tom Brokaw of NBC News was on the anti-Jewell bandwagon).
The truth is this, and it won’t even be disputed by the media because, well, it actually happened. Remember, facts matter. Back in 1996, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and NBC, went well beyond just leaking Jewell’s name to the media, they also provided the results of the investigation and made unwarranted conclusions about Jewell's participation in it. I remember the coverage and how many people went all-in on the idea that Jewell was the bomber. It wasn’t correct conduct then and it most definitely should not constitute correct conduct today.
There may not be much of an endpoint, so to speak to Eastwood’s latest offering. We know where the story is going, but it is never less than an engrossing experience thanks to Eastwood’s gift in working with actors.
The cast here is all-around magnificent. Paul Walter Hauser (“I, Tonya”) shows a man holding in his anger because he respects law enforcement too much. Then, in the scenes where he finally breaks down, a sense of salvation enters Eastwood’s frames, where Hauer’s acting never overdone, but subdued in its mannerisms. Meanwhile, Kathy Bates, playing Mama Jewell, brings extra layers of sorrow to the film as a mother who can only do so much to protect her mama’s boy son. With only a handful of scenes in the film, Bates not only enlivens her character but brings intense personal wisdom to it, like only a consummate pro of close to three decades in the acting field could do. A major shout out should also go to the sharp-witted performance from Sam Rockwell as Jewell’s Libertarian attorney, Watson Bryant, a rebel not afraid to take on the establishment.
Aided by an excellent script from Billy Ray (‘Shattered Glass”), adapted from the Vanity Fair article “American Nightmare: The Ballad of Richard Jewell,” by Marie Brenner, Eastwood uses this true story to capture the heart of the matter and that is where the beauty of this movie lies. Eastwood, at 89-years of age, is still an indisputable cinematic auteur because he has such an old-school approach to telling his stories. Known for barely shooting more than a take or two for every scene, Eastwood’s sharp and breezy classic-Hollywood style feels almost prehistoric in the age of Marvel. [B+]