THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7

Directing: B
Acting: A-
Writing: B+
Cinematography: B
Editing: A-

The Trial of the Chicago 7 is all but certain to get some level of Oscar buzz, such as it can exist in the glad-handling vacuum of a global pandemic. I’m already wondering whether said vacuum might work to its advantage, and if that will even be quite deserved. Time will tell. But, as it stands today, the film appeared on Netflix today, one of many titles originally planned for theatrical release diverted to streaming platforms, likely a large majority of them to Netflix.

And this puts into new context a question I often ask myself about a movie: would I recommend going to a theater to see it, or is it fine to wait for it to be available on demand or streaming? Today that question is moot, except to say that I absolutely would have found this worth seeing in a theater under normal circumstances, but might not have expected many others to feel the same. This film is written and directed by Aaron Sorkin, the second of his directorial features after Molly’s Game in 2017. This is a noticeable step up from that, but it still has a couple of glaring flaws.

And to be clear, I enjoyed The Trial of the Chicago 7 very much, and highly recommend it—esepcially given how easily accessible it is now, upon the very moment of its release. I just really hated its final scene. To be fair, the surge of uplift, triumph over diversity, the score’s crescendo while a huge audience applauds: it’s all very Sorkin. It’s also almost unbearably corny, like a time warp to drama clichés of 1992. What is this, Scent of a Woman? Or maybe a throwback to A Few Good Men, Sorkin’s debut as a feature film writer. The point is, this brand of film making is severely dated.

Thankfully, Sorkin actually avoids such pitfalls until that final, idiotic scene. In classic Sorkin style, the dialogue crackles from the jump, with very skilled editing weaving separate conversations in separate locations together in a linear vocal narrative. Conversations are never this captivating in real life, but Sorkin creates this elevated alternate reality where everyone is blessed with effortless wit. Just as he did with Molly’s Game, Sorkin takes a true story and simply makes the telling of it far less dull than the original conversations had to have been in reality.

He also largely strips it of realism, but so what? We all understand we are watching a narrative film, and it is not a documentary. We are also looking at a staggering ensemble lineup of movie stars, depicting many of the “seven” of the title, who really were put on trial by the U.S. government for allegedly inciting violence at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Many of the players are nearly unrecognizable, including both Sacha Baron Cohen and Eddie Redmayne, positioned by Sorkin as the age-old factions of progressivism eternally at odds with each other, the far left and the center-left. Curiously, both of these actors are from London, each adopting distinctly separate American accents. Coen’s New England accent as Abbie Hoffman is the one that comes and goes if you’re listening for it; Redmayne’s Midwestern accent as Tom Hayden is much more convincing, creating a uniquely impressive performance in Redmayne’s career.

Jeremy Strong is almost shocking in how much he disappears into the scruffy look of Jerry Rubin. The other four in “the seven” are filled in by John Carroll Lynch as David Dellinger; Alex Sharp as Rennie Davis; Noah Robins as Lee Weiner; and Daniel Flaherty as John Froines. But another defendant who is even far more key to the story than these others is an eighth, who was denied representation until the judge was forced to declare a mistrial in his case, is Bobby Seale, played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. What we see him subjected to in this courtroom, at the hands of the judge, is nothing short of extraordinary—yet, sadly, not at all surprising when it comes to the history of treatment of Black people in this country.

Said judge is played, incredibly, by Frank Langella. The name actors just don’t stop in this movie. Mark Rylance is incredible as defense attorney William Kunstler; Joseph Gordon-Levitt is measured as prosecutor Richard Shcultz; the two short scenes he’s in are stolen by Michael Keaton as former U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark. And I still haven’t even exhausted the list of recognizable actors here, a clear indication of how many actors want to work with Aaron Sorkin, but I guess we should probably move on.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 is one take on an event in history with many takes. It’s the specific story of the trial after the convention, and with its many dialogue-heavy scenes in offices and court rooms, it is well suited to Sorkin. It does include several flashbacks to scenes of the melee outside the 1968 National Convention, and action scenes of any kind are not quite staged as well. Even Sorkin’s fantastic dialogue does better in the hands of another, gifted director who can better stage his writing. His direction here is serviceable, but it also keeps the film from becoming as great as it could be. Until that dreadfully cornball burst of music and applause at the end, though, the story unfolds propulsively, on the strength of the dialogue and the performers delivering it. As such, even with its flaws, Aaron Sorkin has delivered another movie true to his form, so packed with witty banter you just can’t look away.

Okay, Eddie Redmayne is great in this movie, but am I the only one who notices how all his characters have a tendency to lean to one side?

Overall: B+