At a time when newspapers are struggling to survive along comes a movie about reporters.
Alyssa Rosenberg, writes in a piece in The Atlantic, "State of Play: A Portrait of the Journalist as a Fallible Man" about the movie :
"“People tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their best interests,” Joan Didion wrote in her introduction to Slouching Towards Bethlehem, in a passage that has become an unfortunate and clichéd summation of the character of reporters. “And it always does….writers are always selling somebody out.”
What Didion neglects to mention is that the people journalists sell out, and hurt, can include themselves. On film, and in print, Didion’s description is convenient. It’s easy to slot reporters into one of two roles: the hero who has to resort to unscrupulous tactics for the sake of the People’s Right to Know; or the sycophant who lives on the cocktail-party circuit and churns out flattery instead of copy. Movies tend to prefer the former, pundits and media critics the latter.
Into that schematic comes State of Play, an engaging if unremarkable remake of a masterly 2003 BBC miniseries, which refuses to conform to those simplistic formulas. In a climate in which reporters are expected to be as detached as jurors, and against the backdrop of a flailing industry, State of Play dares to suggest that journalists, like the people they cover, have messy and complicated personal lives that affect and interact with their work. What separates the reporters in this movie from their subjects is merely the reporters’ comparative lack of power. And as such, the journalists are shown to make poor material for clear-cut heroism or villainy—which is what makes State of Play well worth watching."
Meanwhile, over at the NY Times, A. O Scott in "The News on Paper, and Other Artifacts" reviews the film:
"I will admit that I choked up a little at the end of “State of Play.” Not because the story was especially moving — or even, ultimately, all that interesting — but because the iconography of the closing credits tugged at my ink-stained heartstrings. The images are stirring and familiar, though in a few years’ time they may look as quaint as engravings of stagecoaches and steam engines. A breaking, earthshaking story makes its way from computer screen to newsprint. The plates are set, the presses whir, sheaves of freshly printed broadsheet are collated, stacked on pallets and sent out to meet the eyes of the hungry public. Truth has been told, corruption revealed and new oxygen pumped into the civic bloodstream. All that’s missing is a paperboy yelling “extra!” to crowds of commuters in raincoats and fedoras.
Those of us who work in the newspaper business are highly susceptible to the kind of sentimental view of our trade this movie offers, especially when the sentiment masquerades as tough-minded cynicism, which makes us go all dewy and reach for the bottle of rye we keep stashed in the bottom drawer of our battered metal desk. And anyone, in whatever field, who cherishes memories of “All the President’s Men” or “His Girl Friday” will smile when “State of Play,” directed by Kevin Macdonald (“The Last King of Scotland”), now and again hits the sweet spot of the genre."
Alyssa Rosenberg, writes in a piece in The Atlantic, "State of Play: A Portrait of the Journalist as a Fallible Man" about the movie :
"“People tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their best interests,” Joan Didion wrote in her introduction to Slouching Towards Bethlehem, in a passage that has become an unfortunate and clichéd summation of the character of reporters. “And it always does….writers are always selling somebody out.”
What Didion neglects to mention is that the people journalists sell out, and hurt, can include themselves. On film, and in print, Didion’s description is convenient. It’s easy to slot reporters into one of two roles: the hero who has to resort to unscrupulous tactics for the sake of the People’s Right to Know; or the sycophant who lives on the cocktail-party circuit and churns out flattery instead of copy. Movies tend to prefer the former, pundits and media critics the latter.
Into that schematic comes State of Play, an engaging if unremarkable remake of a masterly 2003 BBC miniseries, which refuses to conform to those simplistic formulas. In a climate in which reporters are expected to be as detached as jurors, and against the backdrop of a flailing industry, State of Play dares to suggest that journalists, like the people they cover, have messy and complicated personal lives that affect and interact with their work. What separates the reporters in this movie from their subjects is merely the reporters’ comparative lack of power. And as such, the journalists are shown to make poor material for clear-cut heroism or villainy—which is what makes State of Play well worth watching."
Meanwhile, over at the NY Times, A. O Scott in "The News on Paper, and Other Artifacts" reviews the film:
"I will admit that I choked up a little at the end of “State of Play.” Not because the story was especially moving — or even, ultimately, all that interesting — but because the iconography of the closing credits tugged at my ink-stained heartstrings. The images are stirring and familiar, though in a few years’ time they may look as quaint as engravings of stagecoaches and steam engines. A breaking, earthshaking story makes its way from computer screen to newsprint. The plates are set, the presses whir, sheaves of freshly printed broadsheet are collated, stacked on pallets and sent out to meet the eyes of the hungry public. Truth has been told, corruption revealed and new oxygen pumped into the civic bloodstream. All that’s missing is a paperboy yelling “extra!” to crowds of commuters in raincoats and fedoras.
Those of us who work in the newspaper business are highly susceptible to the kind of sentimental view of our trade this movie offers, especially when the sentiment masquerades as tough-minded cynicism, which makes us go all dewy and reach for the bottle of rye we keep stashed in the bottom drawer of our battered metal desk. And anyone, in whatever field, who cherishes memories of “All the President’s Men” or “His Girl Friday” will smile when “State of Play,” directed by Kevin Macdonald (“The Last King of Scotland”), now and again hits the sweet spot of the genre."
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