Lincoln

It would be incorrect to call Lincoln a biopic on the 16^th President. The major flaw of the biopic genre (and the reason I’m generally not a fan of it) is that many films seek to merely present the cinematic equivalent of a bullet points list of the major events in their subject’s life, rather than tell a full, solid narrative. Thankfully, Steven Spielberg’s long-awaited project opted not to take this route. Instead of just giving us a rundown of all the moments everyone knows about Abraham Lincoln from history class (the Lincoln-Douglas debates, the Gettysburg Address), the film instead depicts a small portion of his life. This makes for a more complete narrative, but also gives us a stronger, more in-depth portrait of the man.

The timeframe depicted, aside from a few scenes at the beginning and end, is January 1865, after President Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis) had won reelection, but before the start of his second term. The Civil War was coming to a close, and the South was seeking to make peace. It’s during this window, before the war ends and his second term begins, that Lincoln pushed the House of Representatives to pass the Thirteenth Amendment, which outlawed slavery. This meant reconciling the more conservative faction of the Republican Party with the radical abolitionist faction, and also courting several Democrats who opposed such an amendment, all while keeping the news of a Confederate peace delegation a secret.

Day-Lewis, known for his incredible dedication to his roles, delivers one of the great performances in film history as Lincoln. Not only does he get the look right, but every element we know about the man from history is there, too. He was a man of great conviction and ideals, but understood that he had to work with his political rivals. He was soft-spoken and even humorous, but had the iron will to see his vision through. He was reviled by many from all sides and faced the greatest crisis the nation had seen up to that time, and yet managed to lead the country through it with cool-headed reason, intelligence, and uncanny political savvy.

With a lot of great performances, we can observe and admire the particulars of how actors perform and bring their role to life. That’s hard to do here because from the first few minutes, we forget it’s a performance because it seems like we’re watching the real Abraham Lincoln. We’ll never know exactly what Lincoln was like in person or how his voice sounded, but Day-Lewis embodies the man as perfectly as anyone imaginably could. He defines Lincoln the way film footage of the real John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan, or Barack Obama define those Presidents, an achievement above and beyond the normal bounds of acting.

There are a few of the standard biopic trappings pertaining to Lincoln’s family life. Sally Field plays First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln as a loyal companion who struggles with personal demons (some historians believe she suffered from bipolar disorder, and the film briefly hints at this) and family drama, while at the same time giving some human, rather than political, counsel to her husband. She brings a veteran presence to the role that is convincing, reminding us that even some of the most revered historical figures were also family men. Less impressive is Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who’s not bad in the role of oldest son Robert Todd Lincoln, but seems to be more tacked on than a major part of the story.

The more engrossing part of the picture is the political drama, as we get to see all the great lengths Lincoln and his allies went to in order to pass the Thirteenth Amendment. It depicts the wheeling and dealing that we all expect from politicians, as well as the sharp-tongued barbs traded between the parties on the House Floor. But it also shows the appeals Lincoln made to his rivals’ humanity and intellect, and the delicate balance he had to strike between seeking an end to both the Civil War and slavery. It is here that the movie becomes a compelling, sometimes funny political drama, and by the time the Thirteenth Amendment passes onscreen (I don’t think I’m spoiling that for anybody), even the most cynical person might have their faith in the system restored. It is also here that the picture drops the semblance of a biopic and becomes an ensemble piece. Great performances shine from David Strathairn as Secretary of State William Seward, Hal Holbrook as influential Republican Francis Preston Blair, and especially Tommy Lee Jones, who brings an entertaining zeal as the radical abolitionist Congressman Thaddeus Stevens. He might have stolen the show if not for Day-Lewis’ performance, but Jones still manages to hold his own when the two are onscreen together.

Coming so soon after this year’s election, could Lincoln teach us any lessons about today’s political climate? Well, not directly; the issues debated onscreen are long gone, and the Democrats and Republicans in the film are near unrecognizable from their present-day counterparts. But the film does present the timeless truth that in order to do anything of importance, you have to work with people you disagree with, and that you can do so without compromising on your ideals.

Political insights aside, Lincoln is one of the best (and apparently most accurate) films ever made about American history, and one of the best movies in Spielberg’s career.