The Post

“We must act as a check on their authority. God, if we don’t hold them responsible, then who will? Though Steven Spielberg’s “The Post,” which shot on a schedule only rivaled by Ridley Scott, may tell the tale of a threat to the free press in 1971, statements like that make it clear that the film is also meant to be seen as a reflection of 2017. In light of the President of the United States’ criticism of various media outlets, primarily via his Twitter account, and the seeming loosening of the definition of “truth,” “The Post” is intended to be read as a commentary as much on the present as it was on the past. It’s amazing to think about how a movie this skillfully made and starring such a terrific cast could have been entirely different two years ago.

But I question whether it was the proper move to rush the film in an attempt to get attention. Frequently drawing attention to its own importance, the movie falls short when juxtaposed with some of Spielberg’s greatest historical dramas, such as “Munich” and “Lincoln,” which make their points via deeds rather than platitudes. Its burden to “say something important” is nearly palpable, and at times it overshadows the entire endeavor. But there’s enough to enjoy here as well: an excellent group, the greatest performance a living legend has given in a long time, and once more, a message that seems eerily relevant.

The Pentagon Papers narrative is told in “The Post,” which focuses on two significant figures in the developing conflict between the free press and the White House over how best to conceal the details of how our government conducted the Vietnam War. At one point, Fritz Beebe (Tracy Letts, continuing his incredible 2017) states that this was the first instance in which our government’s judicial system attempted to essentially stifle the free press’s ability to operate.

It all began when Matthew Rhys’ character, Daniel Ellsberg, left with thousands of papers detailing Vietnam’s history, including private and sensitive material disclosing long-standing deception to the American people by the government. To use a quote from the film as a quick summary, “McNamara knew we couldn’t win in ’65.” The reality was made public six years later, when thousands of deaths had occurred, initially in the New York Times.

The Times was ordered by the courts not to release any more of the records or the information they gleaned from them, but the Washington Post managed to break the news as well, as Ben Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) managed to obtain the same source as his rival. All of a sudden, the Post gained access to hundreds of pages of private documents that the courts had declared unfit for publication. They risked not just going out of business but also being jailed for treason if they published a story. How would you respond?

The two main characters in this tale are Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks), the Post’s editor and the man who never considers whether or not to publish, and Kay Graham (Meryl Streep), the struggling publisher who does a good job that far too many men around her think she is incapable of doing. Spielberg expresses his feelings on Graham and Bradlee through the casting alone, choosing two of the greatest actors of all time to play their roles. And they both succeed for their director, especially Streep, who hasn’t given a performance this subtle in a very long time, reminding us what a force to reckon with when teamed with the right director (the main issue I have with Streep’s work from the 00s and 00s is that she almost never collaborates with directors who push her boundaries).

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Bradlee is likewise portrayed by Hanks with the appropriate amount of gravity, albeit both actors occasionally make mistakes because the screenplay draws too much attention to itself. Though the stakes don’t always feel right, this story should be about Graham’s worry that she might make the wrong choice, either for her company or for the state of journalism in general. In “The Post,” we never really wonder what anyone will do, especially in light of how thoroughly this topic has been covered.

(However, there is a glaring lack of suspense even if you are unaware of this tale.) Additionally, co-writers Liz Hannah and Josh Singer heavily inject dialogue that is only heard in movies to make up for the absence of genuine suspense (“Jefferson just rolled over in his grave,” for instance). I frequently wished “The Post” was a dirtier, more physical film that didn’t feel like it was set in a vacuum in Hollywood. By far the least like a mouthpiece, Bob Odenkirk practically steals the film.

The truth is, though, that whenever “The Post” verges on the verge of sheer, ridiculous melodrama, someone’s skill saves it. Whatever it is that keeps “The Post” engaging, whether it’s a nuanced decision made by Hanks or Streep, Spielberg’s economy of storytelling, or John Williams’ score, there’s always something to cling to. The sound design alone is captivating, with the sound of typewriter clicking and phones ringing echoing through the Post offices creating a symphony. When it comes to sheer entertainment value, it’s a film by one of our most important directors, and it delivers. You’ll be entertained even just by the procession of well-known faces (I haven’t even mentioned the wonderful return of Carrie Coon, David Cross, Sarah Paulson, or Pat Healy).

Will that interaction continue in the wake of the Trump administration’s journalistic turmoil? If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that there will always be obstacles in the path of the free press, and “The Post” will most likely teach future generations something. After its cultural peak, how well does it hold up as a film? One the one hand, it is insignificant. Film doesn’t exist in a vacuum; it frequently reacts to and plays differently as a result of current events, regardless of what people want to debate in the comment sections.

As a result, even while I’m interested to see how “The Post” is remembered in 10 years, we can only react to it in the present since organizations like the newspaper at its core are once again under threat. Today, where are the Ben Bradlees and Kay Grahams? Even though I wish “The Post” had raised this question more forcefully and bluntly, it is still valuable that someone this well-known asks it.