The Trial of the Chicago 7 (2020)
dir. Aaron Sorkin
Rated: R
image: ©2020 Netflix
Aaron Sorkin’s sophomore effort in the director’s chair – after 2017’s Molly’s Game – is just as compelling, erudite, and masterful as his first. The Trial of the Chicago 7 is one of the best movies of the year so far. All of Sorkin’s strengths are on display here. His screenplay is brimming with his signature style of crackling dialog. He examines with nuance and complexity mature themes like patriotic dissent, justice, and what makes American democracy function. His characters are all fully fleshed out people, not merely two-dimensional dialog delivery devices.
The Trial of the Chicago 7 tells the story of seven men – originally, they were the Chicago 8, but Black Panther co-founder Bobby Seale won a separation of his case from the rest midway through the trial – charged by the US Justice Department with conspiracy to incite riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago and for crossing state lines to do so.
The men, ranging in personality type from attention-seeking firebrand Abbie Hoffman to pacifist and literal Cub Scout den leader David Dellinger, went to the convention separately or in pairs to protest the war in Viet Nam and the Democratic party’s presidential nominee, whom they saw as too pro-war. The new head of the Justice Department, installed after Richard Nixon’s victory in the election, wants to settle a political slight, and he sees charging these men as a good opportunity to do it. It’s a bonus that he can also put some long-hair hippies behind bars.
Sorkin has made a movie for our times by looking back to our not-so-distant past. Through the details of the trial – Sorkin’s screenplay is structured as a courtroom drama with flashbacks to the days in question interspersed throughout – the movie examines state surveillance of supposed dissidents. Law enforcement is also exposed as a purveyor of state-sanctioned violence and agitation.
The defense’s main argument – their attempt to prove their case leads to a late twist in the movie and a particularly satisfying cameo appearance – is that the police and National Guard troops actually started the riot at the Convention. In 2020, in the wake of the uprisings for Black lives following the murder of George Floyd, in which government forces used chemical agents (aka weapons of war) on American citizens, the parallels are impossible to miss.
The absolute farce and circus atmosphere of the trial allows Sorkin to revel in his showy style. The director orchestrates for maximum effect every outburst from the defendants – like how they preempt the judge to mock him by saying “Sustained,” in unison after every objection from the prosecution. The extended sequences that take place outside the trial are also thrilling. The opening montage that gives us a quick primer on who the defendants are and what led them to Chicago for the convention is electric. It’s a masterclass on establishing setting, characters, and stakes in a movie.
The two extended flashbacks toward the end of the movie, one showing a daytime confrontation between protestors and police and another detailing the night of the riot, are as taut as anything you’ll see on screen this year. Editor Alan Baumgarten works with Sorkin to reveal the events by weaving together court testimony, flashbacks, and audio recordings to give us an immersive experience.
Over the course of the picture’s 130 minutes, we come to know these defendants and their motivations. Sorkin isn’t afraid to include their complexities and contradictions. Abbie Hoffman is brash and a seeming glory hound, but he also sees the value in cultural revolution. Tom Hayden, the leader of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), is convinced success for the antiwar movement lies in agitation for policy changes, not lifestyle changes. Sorkin frames these two men as the ideological sides of his film’s political debate, with compelling results.
The movie isn’t, however, hesitant to make these guys look a little foolish when they deserve it. One of the defendants, Jerry Rubin, the co-founder of the Youth International Party (the Yippies), is portrayed as a hippie burnout who falls in love (after only 48 hours) with an undercover agent who is infiltrating the antiwar protestors to gain intelligence. The best joke of the movie comes from another defendant when, after numerous undercover agents have testified for the prosecution, he wonders aloud if the “conspiracy” really just consisted of the seven of them and thousands of undercover cops posing as protesters.
The most harrowing scene in The Trial of the Chicago 7 – and considering the violence of the riot scenes, there are a few – comes when the old, conservative judge barbarically silences Bobby Seale when the Black Panther founder continues to raise objections over his treatment during the trial. Seale had different legal counsel than the other seven men, and his lawyer was hospitalized for gall bladder surgery during the trial, meaning Seale was effectively being tried without legal representation. The judge – whose last name is Hoffman, giving Abbie Hoffman material for laughs during the trial – orders Seale bound and gagged by the court bailiffs. It’s a shocking, sickening moment, as politically charged as any cell phone footage shot today of police brutality against Black bodies.
Sorkin’s impeccable ensemble cast brings his screenplay to vibrant life. Frank Langella is menacing as Judge Hoffman. Sacha Baron Cohen is outstanding as Abbie Hoffman, although the British actor falls into the trap of sounding like a Kennedy when doing Hoffman’s distinctive Boston accent. Eddie Redmayne is full of conviction and righteous indignation as Tom Hayden.
Chronically underrated character actor John Carroll Lynch plays radical pacifist and family man David Dellinger with a quiet dignity. The absolute standout of the cast is Sir Mark Rylance as legendary defense attorney William Kunstler. Rylance is a chameleon, and he loses himself completely in the role.
People who aren’t fond of what could be described as Aaron Sorkin’s dewy-eyed optimism won’t likely be won over by his latest effort. His worldview is akin to the work of filmmaker Frank Capra. In fact, a Capraesque flourish of the musical score during the movie’s climax – composer Daniel Pemberton’s music throughout Chicago 7 is a little overbearing – verges into schmaltzy; it exemplifies the worst of Sorkin’s aw-shucks sensibilities.
That one flaw aside, Sorkin has crafted a compelling, rapturous examination of a pivotal moment in our nation’s history. His movie gets to the root of the patriotic role of dissent in any democracy, and the danger of state power shutting down protest with violence. The story of The Trial of the Chicago 7 is based on events that took place over a half-century ago. In 2020, with an authoritarian president seeking to preemptively delegitimize an election result he doesn’t like, who gleefully calls for violence against members of the press and his political enemies, the story Sorkin is telling seems more relevant now than ever.
Why it got 4.5 stars:
- As if the story itself isn’t compelling enough, Sorkin’s style and filmmaking acumen makes Chicago 7 an electric experience. I might have fallen for classic Oscar bait, but if feeling this good about a movie is wrong, I don’t want to be right!
Things I forgot to mention in my review, because, well, I'm the Forgetful Film Critic:
- I bemoan a lot of movies for their (usually clunky) attempts at imparting exposition to the audience. Sorkin might have been helped by actual court transcripts, but the way he seamlessly has his characters explain why there are eight defendants at the beginning of the trial instead of seven is expertly done. It never feels awkward or stilted.
- Phedon Papamichael’s cinematography is gorgeous. Not surprising, considering he was behind the beautifully shot Ford v Ferrari, Nebraska, and The Descendants, to name a few.
- One huge mystery that Chicago 7 dangles but never resolves: just who was really behind threatening jurors number six and eleven?
- The scene where Hayden and Abbie Hoffman have a debate on whose brand of progressivism is more effective in bringing new people into the fold is one that the left has been having for almost sixty years, with no clear answer.
Close encounters with people in movie theaters:
- Paramount Pictures sold the distribution rights to Netflix (which is how I saw it) once it was clear a traditional theatrical release wouldn’t be possible. The movie was still released in select theaters at the end of September, but it had a much smaller theatrical footprint than likely would have been the case sans COVID.