Central to any compelling story is conflict. In the case of the recently released “Kill the Messenger,” the conflict is already well known: Investigative reporter from a mid-sized daily paper in San Jose stumbles upon a report of international intrigue involving government-sponsored narcotics smuggling into inner-city America. The movie unfolds as reporter Gary Webb (played by Jeremy Renner) vacillates between devoted family man (albeit with a past history of infidelity) and dogged, hard-nosed journalist captivated by the conspiracy unraveling before him.
Alas, contemporary media (including news services) and the American public desire news of a titillating sort, more in keeping with the tawdry shenanigans conducted by then President Bill Clinton and his spunky intern, Monica Lewinsky, than “hard news” involving government impropriety. This-in-turn conveniently overshadowed the Salvadorian-Contra-Narco ruse that came to light.
The movie out-does itself in humanizing Webb behind Renner’s solid portrayal. Webb is depicted as a down-to-earth everyman, eager to enjoy the simple pleasures of life involving horseplay with his toddlers, and the well-earned ritual of after work beer and a chance to restore a vintage Triumph motorcycle while bonding with his teenaged son.
The images of an almost idyllic family existence, more in keeping with sitcoms from the early 1960s, might have made for a more interesting contrast to the doom about to come if the filmmakers had chosen to push the point. Herein lays, perhaps, the only criticism of the movie: The conflict is not pushed enough for dramatic emphasis.
Like many folks who move west for a fresh start, Webb is trying to live down an extramarital workplace dalliance from his previous life back in his native Midwest, a buried memory brought to the forefront when the cutie-pie girlfriend (played by Paz Vega) of a Nicaraguan drug dealer under adjudication delivers legal documentation to his long suffering wife (Rosemarie DeWitt) after hours, in the hopes of retrieving property seized from her felonious inamorato by the duplicitous federal government.
From then on, it’s “balls to the wall,” as Webb crisscrosses the country and into Central America, in order to connect the dots that link these seemingly dissimilar individuals and points on the map to those at the seat of power in the nation’s capitol.
It’s apparent that Webb is in his element as an investigative reporter who relishes the opportunity to expose the hypocrisy of those who dictate the rules by which the rest of us must live. However, one never gets a sense of why Webb so doggedly pursues the truth of a system that clearly dwarfs him, and will eventually rip away all the things he cherishes most in life. In a sense, he is a kindred spirit to Russell Crowe’s hard bitten narco cop in “American Gangster.” But where Crowe’s maniacal street detective Richie Roberts seems woefully inept in the roles of father and husband, in sharp contrast to the efficiency and integrity he displays in collaring those who pollute society, Webb demonstrates a natural affinity in the role of family man, with the caveat being that he will throw it all away for a story everyone else (including his superiors in the publishing industry) would just as soon ignore.
Piggy backing upon his award-winning turns in Kathryn Bigelow’s “The Hurt Locker” (2009), and “American Hustle” (2013), Renner sure-handedly renders Webb’s precarious emotional erosion from lauded star journalist to unhinged, paranoid outcast, who is reduced to motel room occupancy, and deprived of the dignity of being able to provide for his family. The fact that an earlier, extra-marital affair could not hamper his participation in the American Dream, while the erosion of prestige and livelihood did (through the efforts of the elite publishing establishment), is in itself a comment upon the reality of “the good life.”
Director Michael Cuesta makes the quizzical decision to end “Kill the Messenger” on a positive note with Webb accepting an award from his peers for all the turmoil and tribulation thrown his way. This choice of an ending is curious, since we know that his trials ended badly in real life. The presence of a revolver in numerous foreground shots is a harbinger for the tragedy not depicted on screen.
Early reviews of the movie have quibbled about minute lapses in the accuracy of the events depicted, which only highlights the problem of adapting a narrative based on actual events. Nit-picking about details diminishes the historical importance of Gary Webb’s story. Aside from chronicling America’s complicity in the cocaine saturation of the inner city in late 20-century society, it was one of the first major stories to reach a wide audience by benefit of the internet. Most of all, it demonstrated that those in high levels of government were not above circumventing the law and morality to achieve their ends. This included fabricating the truth; a tactic repeated with the unsubstantiated “weapons of mass destruction” claims in the build up to the Iraqi war.
Weighing in on the release of the movie is journalist Robert Parry, who won a George Polk Award for journalism in reporting the Iran-Contra connection. A colleague who associated with Webb during the events depicted, he admits his surprise at the lengths that the New York Times and the Washington Post went to undermine the scribe from San Jose.
“Mostly I thought they would try to ignore it,” he remembers.
Although Webb was a seasoned pro who had previously won a Pulitzer Prize, he did not have the cache of working in a media-savvy market like Washington, D.C. Individuals who frequent that area benefit from well-established reputations, and the connections of their media outlets that will vouch for them in the event their integrity is challenged.
Journalists with such clout are better able to withstand slander. “There’s a certain limit to how much they can demonize you,” says Parry. “Webb touched a lot of raw nerves,” he admits, suggesting that this animosity stemmed from ruffled egos among the publishing elite.”
Even his death had the earmarks of conspiracy: Webb fired two rounds from his handgun attempting to end his life; apparently the first bullet entered his cheek, which necessitated that he pull the trigger a second time. In the end this personal misfortune left behind a positive legacy in its wake, for a public not so quick to embrace the printed word.
“There is now more skepticism about the mainstream news,” notes Parry.
Webb and the events that defined him have been given a resurrection of sorts recently, with the release of “Kill the Messenger,” and the upcoming documentary “Freeway: Crack in the System,” due later this week. Presumably it will focus on the perspective of “Freeway” Ricky Ross (although it reportedly contains interview footage with Webb), by now an urban legend and the cultural figurehead for the crack epidemic.
Ross has issues with some details in the film (the courtroom scene sidesteps reality in that he actually stood before a Caucasian judge and an all-White jury), but overall is satisfied with the points the movie tried to make.
“Me and Gary Webb had the dream of a movie like this appearing back in 1996,” he remembers.
Ross was not able to confront his old “compadre” and supplier, Oscar Danilo Blandón, since he is still a convicted felon and any association would be a violation off the terms of his release. Although he was convicted, Blandón escaped punishment through his association with the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA). He is reportedly the only foreigner to avoid deportation after being convicted for narcotics trafficking.
Above all, he hopes audiences will come to see him and his contemporaries not as hardened criminals, but as regular guys seeking a way to “escape the ghetto and earn a living.”
Time may not heal all wounds, but it does provide a certain distance from which to examine events with comparative clarity that is all but impossible for those caught up in the maelstrom of chaos churned up by actual events.
Scrutiny and comparison between “Kill the Messenger,” and “Freeway: Crack in the System” are inevitable with their release dates so close together, but these are just the beginning of many more opportunities to consider this most polarizing era in the American experience.
