Presidents aren't Hollywood heroes anymore
So there is Abraham Lincoln -- Henry Fonda, actually, in a stovepipe hat -- walking toward the horizon as the gorgeous strains of an orchestra swell up behind him. Soon the orchestra is joined by a choir, the strings and the voices blending into a beautiful, almost ethereal, rendition of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Thunder crackles in the cinematic sky.
Monday is Presidents Day, and in anticipation I treated myself to a viewing of "Young Mr. Lincoln," the 1939 movie about the 16th president's early life as a lawyer in Illinois. The film was purposefully inspiring, of course, sentimental and warmhearted. As it concluded -- the viewer was left to surmise that where Lincoln was heading, bathed in all that music and all that thunder, was toward his, and the nation's, future -- the thought occurred that such movies may be a thing of the past.
Not movies about Lincoln; there will always be a market for those, and in fact a spate of them are said to be either in production or in the planning stages. But uplifting feature-film biographies about more contemporary presidents -- life stories told admiringly, earnestly, with the intent to attract paying customers to brick-and-mortar movie theaters -- seem now to be an anachronism. And it may be worth taking a moment to ask ourselves whether this is the fault of our presidents, or of the times we live in, or of us.
Such movies -- the life stories of the presidents, delivered straight and with an implied crisp salute of respect -- were once a staple of the American entertainment menu: "Sunrise at Campobello," about Franklin Delano Roosevelt, "PT 109," about John F. Kennedy, the various Lincoln movies ("Abe Lincoln in Illinois" followed "Young Mr. Lincoln" into theaters just one year later) ... there was even, in the 1940s, a big-budget film about the life of Woodrow Wilson. The assumption seemed to be that American audiences out for the evening longed to be edified by rousing tales of the men who had made it all the way to the White House. The movies played it literal and clear-eyed; presidents, on the screen, were people to be highly regarded and emulated.
But starting with "All the President's Men" and the era it depicted, that changed. Suddenly moviegoers seemed to feel that before they even bought their tickets they already knew enough -- too much -- of the officially sanctioned versions of the presidents' lives. Oliver Stone made his three presidential movies -- "JFK," "Nixon" and "W."-- and there was no danger that they would ever be confused with "Young Mr. Lincoln."....
Read entire article at CNN
Monday is Presidents Day, and in anticipation I treated myself to a viewing of "Young Mr. Lincoln," the 1939 movie about the 16th president's early life as a lawyer in Illinois. The film was purposefully inspiring, of course, sentimental and warmhearted. As it concluded -- the viewer was left to surmise that where Lincoln was heading, bathed in all that music and all that thunder, was toward his, and the nation's, future -- the thought occurred that such movies may be a thing of the past.
Not movies about Lincoln; there will always be a market for those, and in fact a spate of them are said to be either in production or in the planning stages. But uplifting feature-film biographies about more contemporary presidents -- life stories told admiringly, earnestly, with the intent to attract paying customers to brick-and-mortar movie theaters -- seem now to be an anachronism. And it may be worth taking a moment to ask ourselves whether this is the fault of our presidents, or of the times we live in, or of us.
Such movies -- the life stories of the presidents, delivered straight and with an implied crisp salute of respect -- were once a staple of the American entertainment menu: "Sunrise at Campobello," about Franklin Delano Roosevelt, "PT 109," about John F. Kennedy, the various Lincoln movies ("Abe Lincoln in Illinois" followed "Young Mr. Lincoln" into theaters just one year later) ... there was even, in the 1940s, a big-budget film about the life of Woodrow Wilson. The assumption seemed to be that American audiences out for the evening longed to be edified by rousing tales of the men who had made it all the way to the White House. The movies played it literal and clear-eyed; presidents, on the screen, were people to be highly regarded and emulated.
But starting with "All the President's Men" and the era it depicted, that changed. Suddenly moviegoers seemed to feel that before they even bought their tickets they already knew enough -- too much -- of the officially sanctioned versions of the presidents' lives. Oliver Stone made his three presidential movies -- "JFK," "Nixon" and "W."-- and there was no danger that they would ever be confused with "Young Mr. Lincoln."....