Rated PG-13 for some violent content
Cast: Robin Wright, James McAvoy, Tom Wilkinson, Evan Rachel Wood, Kevin Kline, Alexis Bledel
Director: Robert Redford
Fear is a powerful combatant.
Robert Redford's "The Conspirator" is a thoughtful, nuanced, intriguing yet deliberately-paced courtroom drama that tells the true story of Mary Surratt, arrested along with seven others accused of conspiracy in the assassination of President Lincoln and the attempted murder of Secretary of State William Henry Seward on April 14th, 1865.
The military tribunal was the stage that housed an array of atrocities, though the movie never breaks itself down into simplistic vilification or judgment. That would be too easy. The iniquities perpetrated were bred from the womb of paranoia, fury, and heartache. The film's greatest strength is that it never allows us to get comfortable. We're appalled by the unfolding events, yet we somehow never feel superior to the movie. That's a staple mark of intelligent filmmaking.
A devoted southern wife of a drunken, debt-ridden husband recently deceased, Mary Surratt (Robin Wright) operated a boarding house to support her children. It was here where the accused conspirators held various meetings. Among them were gunman John Wilkes Booth (Toby Kebbell), Seward assailant Lewis Thornton Powell (Norman Reedus) who was tried under the name Lewis Payne, and Surratt's own son, John (Johnny Simmons).
John was the only conspirator who managed to evade the massive manhunt, and it's a widely-held belief that Mary was arrested solely to be used as bait to bring her son to justice. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton (Kevin Kline) seemed perfectly willing to let the mother hang for the crime. It's an unfortunate truth that the perception of justice can be every bit as effective as actual justice when the preservation of one's country is on the line.
Newly-minted lawyer Frederick Aiken (James McAvoy) reluctantly agrees to represent Surratt before the tribunal at the behest of his mentor, U.S. Senator and former attorney general Reverdy Johnson (Tom Wilkinson). Still licking emotional wounds from his time on the battlefield, Aiken houses a contempt for the accused shared by his fellow soldiers. As he dives into the task of courtroom defense, however, Aiken comes to realize the evidence of Surratt's involvement is circumstantial at best, and doesn't come within a mile of reasonable doubt.
The thing that finely separates fear and paranoia is the absence of common sense. Mary Surratt was arrested under suspicion of harboring sympathies for the confederacy. When a southern woman is brought before a military tribunal for suspicions of sympathizing with confederate ideals, the obvious has now taken on the role of sacrificial lamb to national anxiety.
Exactly what Mary Surratt knew is awash in a sea of complexity, though, as she holds strong animosity toward the union, and even confesses to knowledge of a kidnapping plot. But the movie ultimately argues that the military tribunal existed beneath the weight of Stanton's influential thumb, and his predilection for shifting the hearing's direction toward a particular outcome extirpated any possibility of a fair trial.
The events of April 14th, 1865 threw the country into an ominous whirlwind of social apprehension. The movie depicts some forms in obvious ways, like how numerous witnesses fabricated testimony primarily out of fear of being accused themselves. Suspicions are shown in subtler ways, too...
Early in the movie, Aiken combs the boarding house for information, asks Surratt's daughter Anna (Evan Rachel Wood) for a ledger listing the occupants. She retrieves it from behind a desk, as it has been hidden away. "Anything else you're concealing?" Aiken scoffs. It never occurs to him that given recent events, any boarding house would shy away from being up front regarding individuals who may have taken refuge. In a later courtroom scene, Reverdy Johnson contests the idea of a tribunal being the fairest way to try his client, to which a tribunal member remarks that Johnson is a resident of Maryland... a "questionable" state whose loyalties may be a bit harder to discern.
The performances are remarkable. Robin Wright plays Mary Surratt with an implacable poker face born not from ulterior motives, but from the harsh reality that her only social connections can be summoned by reading the motives of others. I like how she forms a bond with the initially apprehensive Aiken by asking questions she already knows the answers to, inflaming his suspicions, then putting him at ease. "Have you ever loved something greater than yourself?" she inquires in one scene. Aiken is flabbergasted. "I've spent the last two years fighting for something greater than myself, so don't you dare--" She cuts him off, grasps his wrist, looks him square in the face and replies softly but pointedly, "then we are the same."
James McAvoy skillfully imbues in Aiken a passion that sometimes overcomes his cognizance. He knows what's right despite being under tremendous pressure to accept what's wrong. His passion for a fair trial grows by the minute, even if he isn't fully aware of what's driving that passion. By the movie's conclusion, it's easy to see why Reverdy tapped him to represent the accused.
The proceedings seem an exercise in vengance over justice, though both Kevin Kline as Secretary of War Edwin Stanton and Danny Huston as prosecuting attorney Joseph Holt are careful not to make their characters too bloodthirsty. Kline plays Stanton with a detachment not unlike that of a general hunched over a map, plotting his next move. The possible violation of the accused's rights is a mere distraction for him, as he's too busy scanning the blueprint to patriotic restitution. Huston plays Holt as more haughty than vengeful. Whenever Aiken objects during testimony, Holt throws his hands into the air, as though someone just rewrote the entire courtroom rulebook on the fly.
I also admired the performances by Justin Long and James Badge Dale as Aiken's closest confidants. Their roles are small but vital to the underlying theme of the film. Neither man holds a blood lust toward the conspirators, yet both struggle to understand Aiken's passion to defend Surratt to the end. Their perceptions mirror attitudes that permeate middle America today. It's easy to know when our own civil rights are being violated, but it's crucial to realize when the civil rights of others are being doused in the name of patriotism.
Aided by Kalina Ivanov's remarkably detailed production design and Newton Thomas Sigel's effectively dark, dusty cinematography, Robert Redford has brought to light a piece of history that slides easily into the fabric of issues confronting us today. His previous film, "Lions for Lambs" was a noble effort, but it lacked an identifiable theme and was left repeating all-too-obvious platitudes regarding our involvement in Iraq. "The Conspirator" is a smart, skilled, raw reminder that the rights and responsibilities handed down by our Founding Fathers cannot merely be owned. They have to be earned.
* * * out of * * * * stars
