Insider, The (1999)

reviewed by
Mark O'Hara


The Insider (1999)
A Film Review by Mark O'Hara

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"What was broken up here doesn't get put back together again."

This is Al Pacino speaking as "60 Minutes" segment producer Lowell Bergman in Michael Mann's new "The Insider." What he's talking about is the serious consequences that go down when politics and greed assault integrity. What we see is a well-paced portrait of investigative journalists, and of the effects of decisions: some of them easy and some of them wrenching.

The content here doesn't fit the mold of the American suspense movie. There are no serial killers or occult goings-on. There are not even any car chases. But in a similar way that "All the President's Men" functioned as an expose of Washington politics surrounding the 1972 election, "The Insider" functions as an eye-opener to mid-1990's capitalistic depravity. Mann has chosen much different fare here than he covered in his superior period drama "The Last of the Mohicans"; his success, though, is every bit as certain.

Lowell Bergman is a top-of-the-line producer. The film's opening sequences take place in a country very much like Iran, where Bergman and a crew member are blindfolded and driven to meet with a Hezbollah leader. Will the sheik trust the reputation of "60 Minutes" and, specifically, of its 78 year-old icon, Mike Wallace? Yes. We watch as the interview is staged a couple of days later, and Wallace gets in the face of a ranting disciple of the sheik's. Wallace's first question is "Are you a terrorist? No beating around the bush with Wallace, of course, and Bergman is one of the main preservers of this dogged honesty.

Enter Dr. Jeffrey Wigand, a scientist formerly employed by health companies like Johnson and Johnson, but who until recently made a lot of money by selling his services to a major tobacco company. It seems Wigand has been terminated rather suddenly. That he doesn't tell his wife immediately about losing his job displays his emotional unevenness, a behavioral pattern that surfaces several times. Wigand's wife seems most concerned with losing the money for the house payments and the for health benefits that assist with their elder daughter's asthma.

So how does Wigand meet up with Bergman? As a corporate executive and respected scientist, Wigand is called upon to interpret some dirt about the Phillip Morris Company that someone dropped in Bergman's lap. Although this piece work does not surface again, we are introduced to some real dirt, a crisis of Wigand's conscience that affects all of American public health. Simply said, Wigand cannot make up his mind to reveal or keep confidential the fact that cigarettes are a delivery device for nicotine. Worse, tobacco companies are enhancing the power of the nicotine by adding chemicals that enable the addictive substance to pass more easily from the lungs to the brain. Wigand's big problem is that part of his severance package is signing an addendum to his confidentiality agreement. Because of this, he cannot communicate any information about his research, as this research is owned by the company.

Circumstances happen that push Wigand to fess up. It seems he is being followed and even harrassed at his home - at the modest rancher he and his wife and young daughters occupied after moving out of their mansion. Bergman gets Wigand a role in a lawsuit being brought by the state of Mississippi again the tobacco industry; the reasoning is that a deposition under oath will make the information public record and let Wigand sidestep his confidentiality pact. The complications surrounding this dilemma are what Mann concerns himself with exploring.

>From the start we sense an edgy tone, the camera catching odd venues, the shot slowing down while the score goes to discordant jazz. Mann has a knack akin to a good fiction writer's for keeping a narrative engaging, almost jumpy. Again, considering the premise for the film does not carry with it the possibility for much physical action, Mann does an amazing job with editing and pacing. The result is a story with several dimensions. There's the story of Wigand's degeneration, tracing his separation from his family and his struggle to start a new career as a teacher of high school chemistry and Japanese. Will he defy a Kentucky court order and offer his damning deposition? What's equally riveting is the conflict among the makers of "60 Minutes," the legal arm of CBS, and various other media - such as the "New York Times" - about whether Wigand's words and face should be aired.

As Jeffrey Wigand, Russell Crowe is masterful. He carries about him a hint of quiet impotence, a rage against all the players of the game, Big Tobacco, the FBI, "60 Minutes" and Lowell Bergman himself. Apparently Crow gained some weight for the role, and the result is a meaty middle-aged man who wants desperately to be a good father and husband, a man of science who let himself be drawn just a little too deeply into the financial and moral morass stirred up by the marketing culture of cigarette peddlers. For Crowe, look for a nomination for best actor in a supporting role.

As Mike Wallace, Christopher Plummer is perfect. His is an American accent and an American aggressiveness. Smart and compassionate, he is nevertheless ruthless when it comes to getting a story. In every scene he's in, Plummer shows his experience and wisdom about the subtlest of actions.

Viewers should make no mistake: this is Al Pacino's movie. It opens and closes with him in our sights, and enables him to display his intense talents in almost every scene. The best part of his performance has him depicting moral ambivalence. He takes it personally when he's accused of betraying sources, and does all he can to expose the tactics taken by the tobacco company to smear Dr. Wigand. Surprisingly, he's not even about to kowtow to the great and powerful Wallace. In role after role, Pacino takes his task seriously; here he helps to bring out the dramatic aspects in this important, factual narrative.

One weakness lies in the story's failure to put faces behind the people harassing Wigand. We see a muscular man in a business suit, hitting golf balls and pausing to watch the scientist. And there are the boot prints in the tomato patch that was worked by Wigand and his girls. Okay, we know it's important to include the threats Wigand experienced, but the most compelling ones come from identifiable perpetrators. Further, what is this habit of Wigand's of talking with Bergman over a pay phone in the crowded halls of the high school in which he is trying to establish himself as a teacher?

"The Insider" will probably bring in a decent box office, but not an outstanding one. The reason? It's a thinking-person's movie, a behind-the-scenes look at a call for social reform, a story too true to be sensational. It's also a darn good effort by a veteran of both television and film. Its acting is solid, its plot engaging. I'd recommend it for anyone 14 and up; the only reason for the R rating is too many appearances of a single, vulgar adjective.


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