Lincoln, Lincoln, I been thinkin'....A Movie Review

When I saw the preview for Steven Spielberg's Lincoln, months ago, and then every time since, I cried.  I've always had a fascination with the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln, and everything surrounding that fateful time in our history...and I'm a hopeless sucker for John Williams' movie scores.

I wasn't sure it could live up to what I had hoped for, but I'm happy to say that when 2 hours and 29 minutes were up, I didn't realize how much time had passed and I didn't want it to end.

First of all, this was truly an actor's movie.  Some films are simply vehicles for next year's Best Actor/Actress to show off their work.  (I'm talking to you, J. Edgar.)  They come out looking like somebody slapped a hundred carat Diamond hood-ornament on a crappy Chevy Nova, and hoped no one would see past the diamond.  It wasn't the case with Lincoln.

This movie was a constellation of some of the best character actors in the business, and because it was a period movie, there was a character in it for everyone.  Not only did Daniel Day-Lewis get to do his method thing, but the extras had to look legit, and the under-five-liners had to perfect their dialects, their posture, their mannerisms. Just one hair or inflection out of place would have ruined the magic of our trip back to 1865.

The supporting cast was so colorful and rich, Lincoln himself faded into the background at times.  Sally Field played the part of the tortured Mary Todd Lincoln with a depth and passion that captured the turmoil that she no doubt experienced having to be along for that ride.  Gulliver McGrath and Joseph Gordon-Levitt had two very different and very real relationships with their father.  Tommy Lee Jones played Republican Thaddeus Stevens like a crumpled, old troll with a greyhound-headed cane, but the passion that burned within him made him shine.  Gloria Reuben brought passion to the role of Elizabeth Keckley, Mrs. Lincoln's servant, whose son had died fighting for the Union, for freedom.   Peter McRobbie and Lee Pace played detestable Democrat bullies.  James Spader, John Hawkes, and Tim Blake Nelson, who took their relatively small, but major roles and ran with them, were both comic relief and an important look into the role of lobbyists in Congress.  Hal Holbrook looked like someone had gone back to 1865 and bottled him up in a time-capsule to bring him back as Preston Blair---and not just because he's super old in real life.

This movie is also a wonderful lesson, not only in the life of Abraham Lincoln, but the process of government--the wheelings and dealings and bribes and betrayals that go into passing laws and amendments, and how close we came to not passing something that we take for granted now: the 13th Amendment: the Abolition of Slavery.  Parents should take their kids, and teachers, once its available, should take a couple days to show it to their classes, maybe before Christmas break next year---because seriously, who really wants to do work in the few days before Christmas?  Ok, I digress.

Then, there was Lincoln, himself, Daniel Day-Lewis.  His work was meticulous.  From Lincoln's gait to his flat, high-timbred, mid-west dialect, Daniel became Abe.  Day-Lewis captured the charisma of the Great Emancipator, both with the deep connections that were visible between him and the other characters, but also in the moments where Lincoln seemed to "disappear", lost in thought, wheels turning heavily.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the music, cinematography, writing, make-up, costume, etc etc etc.  Lincoln had the golden touch of Spielberg and his cabinet all over it, which meant that you were too busy living in it to notice it.  It'll take a couple more trips back to the theatre to be able to say much more than that.

When I walked out of the theater, I found myself thinking more about the performances of the other actors, and hardly thinking about Day-Lewis at all.  This morning, however, in that groggy time between sleeping and waking, I found myself thinking about Lincoln, not in the context of the movie, but in some other scene plucked from some other story of Lincoln that had been tucked away in my memory.  When I reached full consciousness, I realized that it was Daniel-Day Lewis's Lincoln that had now taken the place of whatever image of Lincoln I had been working with before.

I guess, for me, his work transcended the performance of the role in the movie.  The man brought the legend to life.   Lincoln was not perfect.  His family life was tumultuous and he was prone to anger.  He was human.  But, it was clear, that, at least, this Lincoln, at his heart, was pure.