One political geek’s reaction to Lincoln

I watched Lincoln last night in a packed Moreland Theater.  A bit of two hours late,  I found myself happy that our local theater was actually packed, but ambivalent about Spielberg’s biopic.

I’ll leave it to film buffs like my oldest son Matt (http://thedaytheclowncried.com/).  I have a hard time viewing it in any other way than a lifetime political junkie, political scientist entering my third decade in the profession, and something of a Civil War buff.

Full disclosure: my Civil War interests have tended toward the strategy and tactics of the battlefield.  The Civil War always struck me as deeply irrational from a strategic perspective.  But ever since a childhood visit to the Petersburg battlefield, I’ve enjoyed non-fiction about the War.

But upon reflection, little about Lincoln directly.  I’ve read Safire’s novel Freedom and Jay Winik’s book about the end of the war.   I’ve tried to dig my way through Carl Sandburg’s biography without success.  For someone with about two dozen presidential biographies under his belt, this is a bit embarrassing.  More embarrassing still, perhaps: I’ve read Doris Kearns’s biography of LBJ but Team of Rivals, the book that the movie is supposedly based on, sits on my shelf unread.

That’s a long lead in for a review, but it’s hard to watch a biography of Lincoln without understanding what you bring to the table.

The short review: I enjoyed the movie a lot.  I loved the scenes of congressional wheeling and dealing,  probably the best scenes of Congress ever (though perhaps Greg Koger cantell me why they did not vote on the motion to table, and at another point, they seconded the motion to vote on the 13th Amendment but did not continue debate).

The Lincoln scenes, however, alternated between moments of wonder and moments of discomfort.  Daniel Day-Lewis  is astounding as Lincoln, and the makeup work on him later in the movie is amazing.  He seemed completely immersed in the role.  That was wonderful.

What was discomforting, however, was the hagiography.  Did Lincoln really disarm friend and foe with folksy tales that carried essential kernels of wisdom and insight?  Did he really stop and chat with every manner of citizen he met, inevitably sharing a ribald joke or self-effacing story?  Other than scenes with the Cabinet, virtually every interaction they showed with Lincoln had the participants in awe of the man.

Is this based on any historical record, or is this Kearns-Goodwin the populist historian and television personality?  (Here’s Kearns-Goodwin’s reaction to the movie, not surprisingly over the top enthusiastic.)

But the non-analytical side of my brain kept asking: how else can you portray the most revered president in American history–the greatest leader, the most effective speaker, and the most historically important?  Is he the American civic Christ figure?  (That’s certainly how he is portrayed at times in the movie.)

David Brooks liked the movie for its politics.  So did I.  David and I attended University of Chicago at the same time.  He’s blandly conservative,  I’m blandly liberal.  I’m not sure a movie that he and I like has much of a chance of wide success.  But I’m pretty sure all my political science friends will love it!

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