Fighting the man one quip at a time

Bryan Cranston as Dalton Trumbo in "Trumbo." Image courtesy Bleeker Street Media

“Trumbo” purports itself to be a film of great import, written and starring the type of men who make Aaron Sorkin drool through his dreams. The topic is a modern witch trial – no witches were harmed in the making of this film though – and the lesson bestowed by the filmmakers about how bad such things are is more apropos of a poorly written textbook than a film. There really isn’t much else to “Trumbo” aside from that lesson either; the filmmakers get so wrapped up in hammering their point home they forget to offer their audience an engaging film. To quote one of the great philosophers of this decade, oops.

Baseball fans familiar with hard-hitting, out-making, poor-fielding Seattle Mariners slugger Mark Trumbo will be disappointed that this film is not dedicated to his epic adventures in the outfield. Rather, the titular Trumbo is legendary writer Dalton Trumbo, known in film circles for penning such classics as “Roman Holiday” and “Spartacus.” Well, he's recognized for writing the former now; Trumbo persuaded a colleague to put his name on it so a movie studio actually purchase the script. The reason why he had to resort to that is the heart of his film, which stars “Breaking Bad,” “Seinfeld,” and “Malcolm in the Middle” alum Bryan Cranston as the mustached scribe. He starts the film riding high alongside his wife Cleo (Diane Lane) and three children after receiving a contract that makes him the richest writer in Hollywood, but the fall commences shortly thereafter because of his affiliation with the Communist Party. Given this happens to be 1947 and the early years of the Cold War, associating with the party of the so-called enemy is not a decision welcomed by many.

It really doesn't take all that long for Cranston and a few of his fellow writers (Louis C.K. and Alan Tudyk among them) to get called in front of the infamous House Un-American Activities Committee (or HUAC) to testify about the issue. None of them actually offer any testimony of note, and they are all summarily charged with contempt of court and, most notably, blacklisted by every major studio in Hollywood at the behest of the powerful and venomous columnist Hedda Hopper (a divinely vile Helen Mirren). With his life completely asunder, Cranston must find a way to rebuild his stature in the industry – the route takes him into the employ of B-movie magnates Frank and Hymie King (John Goodman and Stephen Root, respectively) – without losing the affection of his family, especially eldest child and burgeoning rebel Niki (Elle Fanning). Shenanigans involving prison, speed, Michael Stuhlberg doing a good enough Edward G. Robinson impersonation, David James Elliot doing a dreadful John Wayne impersonation, and some writing ensue.

Viewers learn a fair bit about the Hollywood Ten, the blacklist, Hollywood backroom deals and Dalton Trumbo's politics. The man himself, however, remains something of an enigma, which is quite strange given the film is called “Trumbo.” Viewers glimpse the eponymous figure through his crusade and his bathtub writing quirks, but there's little about the man as a writer or as a human being beyond the political realm, excluding of a short interlude in which he treats his family like crap and then stops. What the film is unwilling to do is separate the man from his politics, treating Cranston's Trumbo more like a megaphone than a human being. All Cranston, who is committed to the role but not left with very much to work with, can do is don his glasses, grow a funky mustache and dole out enough witticisms to irk Dorothy Parker.

Director Jay Roach and screenwriter John McNamara – both of whom appear out of their element with this kind of film – are much more interested in wagging their fingers toward the past and condemning those idiots for their paranoia than telling the story of a clearly complex and interesting man. And lord do they ride the high horse, raising platform after platform for characters to pontificate against the government overreach and the decimation of the First Amendment. They are very valid points to make, but the levels of self righteousness Roach and McNamara reach in “Trumbo” are staggeringly brilliant. The filmmakers fashion themselves and their titular character as heroes; then again, people act far more courageously when they have the benefit of hindsight.

Review: Two and out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 124 minutes

Genre: Biopic

Ask Away

Target audience: People who are down for a moving about the Hollywood Ten and are patient to an incredible degree.

Take the whole family?: Aside from a shot of Bryan Cranston's derriere, it really isn't an “R” film. Teens younger than 17 who must watch it won't have an issue.

Theater or Netflix?: Put it on the que and save it for later if you want to watch it.

Academy Award odds?: There doesn't appear to be a lot of traction going for this one. The best bets are Bryan Cranston for Best Actor and Helen Mirren for Best Supporting Actress, but both are listed outside the nomination bubble on tracking sites. Both will probably get a Golden Globe nomination though.

Watch this instead?: “Bridge of Spies” has the same problem “Trumbo” does about lecturing its viewers, but the lesson is didactic and the back half offers an excellent spy film to keep you entertained. A much better Cold War flick is the wonderfully manic “Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.” I know the full title isn't necessary, but it is just so much fun to use.