Golden Globes 2021: The Trial of the Chicago 7

At a party once, back when we could go to parties, a friend of mine posed a question that was something along the lines of, “What is a historical event that you primarily associate with the movie that was made about it?” The first and most obvious answer for many of us was Titanic, along with a myriad of biopics and war movies. I can now confidently add The Trial of the Chicago 7 to my personal list.

Like the film’s writer and director Aaron Sorkin, I didn’t know anything about the riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention and subsequent conspiracy trial charging the lead organizers of the protest with inciting a riot. A small difference is that I learned about the events from the film, and Sorkin learned about them at a dinner party with Steven Spielberg, but otherwise we’re the same.

Before I jump into my thoughts on the film, I want to first get out of the way my thoughts on historical accuracy in fictional mediums. To be incredibly overly simplistic, in general, I don’t think it matters. Movies are works of fiction, and filmmakers aren’t journalists. It would not make for compelling entertainment, most of the time, to focus on recreating historical events in the most historically accurate way possible. Most real life stories don’t unfold in a narrative arc that makes sense, most people aren’t very eloquent, and real people are just more complicated than characters. When we say that movies or TV shows or other works of fiction feel real, we don’t actually mean it most of the time. Filmic realism is usually still miles away from real life.

I do feel like filmmakers have a social responsibility to make sure that they limit exclusion and erasure in the narratives they chose to emulate. I don’t think it’s appropriate to change a character’s gender, race, religion, or sexual orientation, or to eliminate significant players in a historical event because their identity complicates things. However, I do feel that changing timelines to make things unfold in a more cinematic way, eliminating characters or plot points to simplify a story (within reason), and writing dialogue that is more compelling than what was actually said or done, is well within the rights of a filmmaker.

That being said, even though The Trial of the Chicago 7 take poetic license with the order of events and words spoken at the trial, based on my limited research, I feel like the film retained the essence of the case and presented it to the world today in a way that feels timely, resonant, and simultaneously hopeful and harrowing.

If you, like me, don’t know much about the titular trial or the events that unfolded in 1968, the much abbreviated version is that a convergence of multiple leftist political groups arrived in Chicago to protest the Vietnam War outside the DNC. The protests got out of hand and protesters clashed with the Chicago police, leading the seven organizers along with Bobby Seale, a leader of the Blank Panthers, to be charged with inciting a riot.

The film follows the trial as the seven defendants, along with Seale, and their lawyers, try to make the case that the Chicago PD started the riot and they were there to peacefully protest. It becomes clear the the court will stop at nothing to ensure that the defendants lose the case, including dismissing jurors who appear to be sympathetic to their cause, charging them with contempt of court, and refusing to allow Bobby Seale to appear in court with his own lawyer, and instead lumping him in with the seven defendants who he did not even know personally prior to the case. Through out the trial, the film jumps back and forth to the events of the riots so the audience can see how things unfolded alongside how the events are revealed and portrayed in court.

Thematically, it is clear to see why this film has had an impact on 2020 audiences. The late 1960s have an emotional intensity that echos today, as people took to the streets last summer in anger and exhaustion, protesting the police violence and everyday aggressions that continue to disenfranchise Black people in this country. Young people are feeling profoundly left behind by a government that doesn’t work for them or support them through the most difficult time almost anyone alive has been through.

And um, we’re also in the middle of a national trial about whether or not someone incited a riot. So there’s that!

Even if this film didn’t happen to be released in perhaps the most hyper relevant moment of the past 15 years since it entered development, the film is also a gorgeously crafted narrative about the absurdities and inherent theatricalities of the American legal system, acted out by some of the best male actors in the business. Out of the cast of A-listers (and a few up-and-comers!), only Sacha Baron Cohen received a nomination for his work. Cohen is a standout (especially when put in dialogue with his other Golden Globe nominated role in Borat Subsequent Movie Film) as Abbie Hoffman, a founding member of the Youth International Party and one of the seven who most fits the stereotype of a late 60s hippie. Hoffman leans most towards comedy of any of the accused men, and Cohen’s comedic skills shine through out, but it’s his stirring final monologue when he takes the stand and his arguments with Eddie Redmayne’s Ted Hayden, the most buttoned-up of the group, that elevates his performance to award-worthy.

If it were up to me, I also would have nominated my sweet, Kermit the Frog lookalike revolutionary Eddie Redmayne, the brilliant Mark Rylance for his role as their lawyer, William Kunstler, and Frank Langella as Judge Hoffman (no relation to Abbie), who plows through court cases with ferocity and a complete lack of regard for due process. I was impressed with the ensemble cast as a whole, to be honest, including Jeremy Strong as sweet Jerry Rubin, the complete opposite of his Award-Winning portrayal of Kendall Roy in Succession, Alex Sharp as Rennie Davis, and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Bobby Seale, whose abuse by the legal system was harrowing, often hard to watch, and sadly all too relevant.

I could sing the praises of almost every single actor, honestly, it was perfectly cast, and the casting director deserves an award as well. I also think the costume designer did an amazing job capturing the late 60s through clothes and dressed characters from different backgrounds, social classes, and political values appropriately and in ways that helped tell their story to the audience. The court scenes were staged and camera blocked expertly and the crowd scenes were filmed and choreographed perfectly.

I think it will be really interesting to see if this type of film that I alluded to in my Mank post, one that is primarily social justice oriented and inherently political, will rise to the top this awards season. I haven’t seen all five films in the Best Picture-Drama category yet, but my understanding is they’re all Oscar-bait-y but in different ways. In a year where nothing has been normal, who knows how the voters will decide?