THE INSIDER / (1999) **** (out of
"The Insider" prospers in almost every way, shape, and form possible. The production is a masterpiece of visual style, moving performances, and penetrating dialogue. The story is captivating, even at 157 minutes. There is more than enough unexpected plot twists to keep our attention throughout-and at a consistent pace. Many movies will have moments of inspiration and intrigue, but not "The Insider." This movie is one long intriguing moment, a moment that is never boring or lacking. It is also believable and entirely convincing. There is a realistic look into the behavior of journalists and their desire for information. It is so intelligent about revealing the most important information little at a time, always at the perfect second.
Russell Crowe's character is the heart of the film, one of the most active protagonists seen in a movie all year. He plays Jeffrey Wigand, an ex-employee at Brown & Williamson, one of the nations largest cigarette manufacturers. Its chairman (Michael Gambon) has fired Wigand for questioning some of their potentially harmful research tactics and business routines-but not before blackmailing him into signing a strict confidentiality agreement that threatens his much needed severance package currently providing for his wife and their two young girls. When the company even further jeopardizes his existence, he blows his fuse and prepares to release information on the indecisive industry of B&W.
He gets his opportunity when Lowell Bergman (Al Pacino), an ambitious and experienced reporter from the CBS news program "60 Minutes," receives a package regarding product safety studies at another tobacco company. Bergman contacts Wigand, aspiring towards hiring him as a transitory consultant for a potential "60 Minutes" show. Bergman senses some vital information withheld in the knowledge of Wigand, therefore further investigates what he is making the executives at B&W so concerned.
The film makes many unexpected turns; in the second half, it smartly switches focus from Wigand to Bergman. After losing his privacy, secrets, reputation, and family, Wigand revealing startling facts and starts a new career teaching chemistry. But Bergman faces further complications. His TV Network refuses to air the segment because they could be sued big time for helping break Wigand's confidentiality agreement.
"You pay me to go get guys like Wigand, to draw him out. To get him to trust us, to get him to go on television. I do. I deliver him. He sits. He talks. He violates his own f*****g confidentiality agreement. And he's only the key witness in the biggest public health reform issue, maybe the biggest, most-expensive corporate-malfeasance case in U.S. history. And Jeffrey Wigand, who's out on a limb, does he go on television and tell the truth? Yes. Is it newsworthy? Yes. Are we gonna air it? Of course not. Why? Because he's not telling the truth? No. Because he is telling the truth. That's why we're not going to air it. And the more truth he tells, the worse it gets," explains Bergman.
The dialogue is one of the brightest, most thought-provoking material in the film. All of the little quirks in typical conversation are captured, the stuttering, the spontaneous explicit declaratives, and the sharp remarks that add a scathing zest to the character's personalities (Agent: Do you have a history of emotional problems, Mr. Wigand? Wigand: Yes. Yes, I do. I get extremely emotional when *******s put bullets in my mailbox!).
The movie's dramatic premise is so clear, so precise, so uncommonly absorbing. It expresses the true stress and nature of the traumatic emotions of the characters. There is also an excellent introduction of both Wigand and Bergman, giving them depth and human dimension. Despite a few members of my cinema discussion group disagree, I extensively enjoyed the piercing middle-eastern soundtrack consisting of awkward beats and fitting tones.
Al Pacino is cautious not to steal scenes from co-star Russell Crowe, but when his time comes he lets out a stark and involving performance. Crowe is worthy of his Oscar nomination for best actor; he delivers a performance of great subbtlness, but with an intense underlying tone of innovative depth and power. He captures all of the little tensions and stresses of his character, making his scenes involving, subversive, and taut.
Michael Mann is the film's director, who also directed the 1995 thriller "Heat" starring Val Kilmer, Robert De Niro, and Al Pacino. Here, he pays close attention to details; when a character pushes numbers on a pay phone, the camera captures the feeling-also hitting golf ball against a backdrop, dropping glasses on a table, and notably in an intense scene where two people fax each other important statements and questions. Mann also injects effective camera angles complete with slow motion photography, taking the view of the character, and close up shots.
"The Insider" inhabits a strong social message dealing with the influence of television, reputation, honesty, and so forth. The biggest ethic I think Mann is trying to get across is of modern morality: always do the right thing, follow you conscience, no matter what the cost. Then there's the film's most provoking issue: "Fame has a fifteen-minute half-life. Infamy lasts a little longer."
"The Insider" prospers in almost every way, shape, and form possible. The production is a masterpiece of visual style, moving performances, and penetrating dialogue. The story is captivating, even at 157 minutes. There is more than enough unexpected plot twists to keep our attention throughout-and at a consistent pace. Many movies will have moments of inspiration and intrigue, but not "The Insider." This movie is one long intriguing moment, a moment that is never boring or lacking. It is also believable and entirely convincing. There is a realistic look into the behavior of journalists and their desire for information. It is so intelligent about revealing the most important information little at a time, always at the perfect second.
Russell Crowe's character is the heart of the film, one of the most active protagonists seen in a movie all year. He plays Jeffrey Wigand, an ex-employee at Brown & Williamson, one of the nations largest cigarette manufacturers. Its chairman (Michael Gambon) has fired Wigand for questioning some of their potentially harmful research tactics and business routines-but not before blackmailing him into signing a strict confidentiality agreement that threatens his much needed severance package currently providing for his wife and their two young girls. When the company even further jeopardizes his existence, he blows his fuse and prepares to release information on the indecisive industry of B&W.
He gets his opportunity when Lowell Bergman (Al Pacino), an ambitious and experienced reporter from the CBS news program "60 Minutes," receives a package regarding product safety studies at another tobacco company. Bergman contacts Wigand, aspiring towards hiring him as a transitory consultant for a potential "60 Minutes" show. Bergman senses some vital information withheld in the knowledge of Wigand, therefore further investigates what he is making the executives at B&W so concerned.
The film makes many unexpected turns; in the second half, it smartly switches focus from Wigand to Bergman. After losing his privacy, secrets, reputation, and family, Wigand revealing startling facts and starts a new career teaching chemistry. But Bergman faces further complications. His TV Network refuses to air the segment because they could be sued big time for helping break Wigand's confidentiality agreement.
"You pay me to go get guys like Wigand, to draw him out. To get him to trust us, to get him to go on television. I do. I deliver him. He sits. He talks. He violates his own f*****g confidentiality agreement. And he's only the key witness in the biggest public health reform issue, maybe the biggest, most-expensive corporate-malfeasance case in U.S. history. And Jeffrey Wigand, who's out on a limb, does he go on television and tell the truth? Yes. Is it newsworthy? Yes. Are we gonna air it? Of course not. Why? Because he's not telling the truth? No. Because he is telling the truth. That's why we're not going to air it. And the more truth he tells, the worse it gets," explains Bergman.
The dialogue is one of the brightest, most thought-provoking material in the film. All of the little quirks in typical conversation are captured, the stuttering, the spontaneous explicit declaratives, and the sharp remarks that add a scathing zest to the character's personalities (Agent: Do you have a history of emotional problems, Mr. Wigand? Wigand: Yes. Yes, I do. I get extremely emotional when *******s put bullets in my mailbox!).
The movie's dramatic premise is so clear, so precise, so uncommonly absorbing. It expresses the true stress and nature of the traumatic emotions of the characters. There is also an excellent introduction of both Wigand and Bergman, giving them depth and human dimension. Despite a few members of my cinema discussion group disagree, I extensively enjoyed the piercing middle-eastern soundtrack consisting of awkward beats and fitting tones.
Al Pacino is cautious not to steal scenes from co-star Russell Crowe, but when his time comes he lets out a stark and involving performance. Crowe is worthy of his Oscar nomination for best actor; he delivers a performance of great subbtlness, but with an intense underlying tone of innovative depth and power. He captures all of the little tensions and stresses of his character, making his scenes involving, subversive, and taut.
Michael Mann is the film's director, who also directed the 1995 thriller "Heat" starring Val Kilmer, Robert De Niro, and Al Pacino. Here, he pays close attention to details; when a character pushes numbers on a pay phone, the camera captures the feeling-also hitting golf ball against a backdrop, dropping glasses on a table, and notably in an intense scene where two people fax each other important statements and questions. Mann also injects effective camera angles complete with slow motion photography, taking the view of the character, and close up shots.
"The Insider" inhabits a strong social message dealing with the influence of television, reputation, honesty, and so forth. The biggest ethic I think Mann is trying to get across is of modern morality: always do the right thing, follow you conscience, no matter what the cost. Then there's the film's most provoking issue: "Fame has a fifteen-minute half-life. Infamy lasts a little longer."