Richard Jewell

Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Paul Walter Hauser, Sam Rockwell, Kathy Bates, Jon Hamm, Olivia Wilde
Running Time: 129 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Early in Clint Eastwood's Richard Jewell, we're introduced to a man who behaves with absolute purpose and certainty. Someone so sure of what he's doing that nothing could possibly get in the way. Despite being mocked for his weight, called a "rent-a-cop," and generally laughed at and disrespected by everyone with whom he comes in contact, he just plows forward like it doesn't bother him at all. Of course, we later find out it very much hurts him, as it would anyone, but his loyalty to upholding the law takes precedence. In other words, Richard Jewell saved many lives in Atlanta's Centennial Park at the 1996 Olympics by doing what's he's always done: pay attention.

Despite the fact Jewell was railroaded and vilified by both law enforcement and the media to no end, there will be those accusing Eastwood of pedaling a right-wing agenda with his heroic depiction of this protagonist. And that's mainly because he fits the profile of an eccentric white male loner, as much now as even then. But if viewing the film through a political lens is eerily reminiscent of assumptions made about Jewell at the time, here's something scarier: Everyone still thinks he's the Olympic Park bomber. To this day. Well over a decade past his death. That fact alone should grant Eastwood as much creative freedom as he wishes.

Legally exonerated, but never acquitted in the public's eyes, Jewell's somehow taken this crime to his grave as its perceived perpetrator. There's a reason this movie isn't called Eric Rudolph. That eventually revealed bomber wasn't an exciting enough suspect for the media, nor was he an easy layup for the FBI. But disregarding the physical impossibility of Jewell having committed the crime and producing no forensic evidence linking him, they pushed forward anyway. So while the media and law enforcement get some rough treatment from Eastwood, it definitely isn't unwarranted. It's the director's best film in ages, but also a brilliantly told story made all the more remarkable for happening, its effects still rippling through our culture to this day.

It's summer 1996 when 33 year-old aspiring law enforcement officer, Richard Jewell (Hauser) moves in with his mother, Bobi (Kathy Bates) in Atlanta after a decade of bouncing around in various jobs such as a law office supply clerk and campus security guard. Given the chance to work security detail at Centennial Park on the eve of the Olympics, Jewell signs on, figuring that at least his mom will get a front-row seat to see her favorite singer, Kenny Rogers. Despite feeling ill the night of July 27th, Jewell reports for duty, and while chasing off some drunk teens, discovers a suspicious-looking backpack under a bench he suggests be investigated. After initially dismissing his serious concerns as nonsense, an explosives expert confirms the presence of a bomb before it detonates, injuring many and killing one.

By finding the device and helping to clear the area, Jewell is understandably celebrated by the media, his face plastered on every news program and a book deal being fast tracked. But when FBI agent Tom Shaw (Jon Hamm) suspects Jewell as the possible bomber with a "hero complex," his leaking of that info to fiesty Atlanta Journal Constitution reporter, Kathy Scruggs (Olivia Wilde) causes the security guard's life to unravel. With the FBI attempting to manipulate Jewell into confessing, he turns to an old friend to represent him, lawyer Watson Bryant (Sam Rockwell), the only person at his old supply clerk job who treated him, as Richard calls it, like a "human being". Both have their work cut out for them, as Jewell's name is dragged through the mud, devastating his mother, who still couldn't be prouder of her only son.

Adapted from Marie Brenner's 1997 Vanity Fair article,"American Nightmare: The Ballad of Richard Jewell," (a far better title by the way) Eastwood and screenwriter Billy Ray do a masterful job making a very clear distinction. This may be a simple man, but he's not simple-minded, as demonstrated in his ability to spot a threat that law enforcement officials with far more experience couldn't. And that might be the story of this guy's life, as he's constantly been overlooked and underestimated due to his appearance, weight, eccentric demeanor or the fact he lives with his mother. But for Hamm's rigid agent Shaw, those traits read as the criminal profile for a serial bomber.

Similar to the feeling of certainty Jewell exhibited in his investigation of the mysterious bag that night, Shaw's equally sure he found his man. But it's different, driven by a preconceived hypothesis about Richard that he's desperate to prove correct. It's a fascinating study in how people are falsely accused of crimes, with Shaw arranging and rearranging details in the investigation so it fits, as if he's trying to convince himself. While as confident he's doing the right thing as Jewell was, the key difference is that he's dead wrong.

Paul Walter Hauser was the ideal selection to play Richard Jewell and one of those rare, magical choices for a reality-based role that make the best case possible for why Oscars should be given out for casting as well as performances. Despite recent high-profile work as Harding bodyguard Shawn Eckhardt in I, Tonya and adult recruit "Stingray in YouTube's Cobra Kai, there's still an anonymity associated with him you just wouldn't get with any supposedly bigger name. And because Jewell's story revolves so much around us discovering this regular guy unwillingly shoved into the spotlight, anyone else would have seemed like a distraction. Aside from a considerable physical resemblance, Hauser completely disappears into Jewell as if the infamous security guard's been exhumed from a 1996 newscast. But the brilliance in his work comes when Richard calls upon the same strength he exhibited in the park scenes to hold himself (and his mom) together as public humiliation begins chipping away at his loyalty to the justice system.

Much of the action takes place in only two locations, with Eastwood first transporting us into the mileu of Centennial Park that night in July, with all the excitement and nervous energy surrounding the city on the cusp of the XXVI Olympic Games. We trail Jewell throughout, leading right up to and including the tragic event, witnessing his warnings of danger falling on deaf ears until action's eventually taken. And you could just as easily imagine brushing this guy off given that he's playing a hunch (albeit one based on knowledge and experience) that happens to end up being correct.

The rest of the action essentially takes place in his mom Bobi's apartment, which becomes Richard's own personal prison, as the pitchfork-wielding media descend upon their residence. As attorney Watson Bryant, Sam Rockwell reliably provides whatever comic relief exists in this re-telling, while also making you empathize with his blunt, straightforward character's exasperation with Jewell as a client. The honest, transparent qualities he admires in his friend are exactly what make him so difficult to represent, opening his mouth at the most incriminating times to state personal details better left unsaid. Soon, his job becomes to just simply shut Richard up before he serves himself up to the FBI on a platter.

For as much pain as Richard endures, it's his mother Bobi who seems to suffer most, earning her eventual designation by Watson as the 113th victim of the Olympic Park bombing. There are so many great, little details in Kathy Bates' performance as this proud mother whose entire reality is upended over two days. There was hardly enough time to process her son becoming a hero known around the world, fulfilling every dream she had for him in law enforcement, before he's scapegoated by the media and FBI as their lead suspect.

There's this indelible moment when Bobi's watching Tom Brokaw report on the story and asks why HE'S saying these terrible things about her son. And she means that literally, expressed with the utmost sincerity and confusion. It's as if Brokaw saying it has just made things more painfully real for her. And with just that short line, Bates conveys that Bobi is very much her son's mother, trusting and holding dear those who earn her respect and loyalty. Even if it's a TV personality. In many ways it represents the ultimate betrayal, as if this case has now officially infiltrated everything in their lives, including the trusted Tom Brokaw. If he's turning against Richard, the situation must truly be hopeless.

The Atlanta Journal Constitution's Kathy Scruggs was a real person and apparently well-respected journalist who's depicted here as sleeping with FBI agent Shaw in exchange for the info that Richard Jewell is their prime suspect. Hamm's Shaw is supposedly a composite of numerous federal agents working on the case so his character's let off the hook, while Scruggs, who passed away in 2001, is a little different in that she's an actual reporter referred to by name and shown having traded sex for tips on a story. Or did she? Whether this was some kind of exchange or they were in a relationship could have been easily distinguished by giving her more screen time that further fleshed out the character. Instead, we get a snapshot that doesn't provide a clear indication either way. And since she doesn't really warrant an expanded role in the context of the story Eastwood'strying to tell about the media, the better answer was probably just not using her name at all. It makes very little creative difference, but it sure did garner a great film the wrong kind of publicity, which is cruelly ironic in itself.

 Eastwood clearly cares very little about sugar-coating anything, and like Jewell himself, will forge ahead and do what he wants, regardless of whatever the current cultural climate dictates he should. It's hard not to respect that when the results are this good, while still recognizing why Scrugg's family would have a big problem with it. For what it's worth, Wilde plays Kathy well enough, which in this case means that she's a nasty, brash reporter who will do anything for a lead. And yet for all the controversy surrounding this real-life reporter's somewhat monstrous depiction, she went with a story from a valid source that she had every reason to believe was true, regardless of her methods in obtaining it. Eastwood never holds her to the same standard as an FBI agent who leaks classified information related to a bombing.

Jewell's only crime was misplaced faith, perhaps guilty of being too trusting, naive and compliant. In the film's most gut-wrenching scene, we find out that his biggest fear actually wasn't what would become of him, or even his mother, but those in law enforcement who could eventually find themselves in a position similar to his on that night. And because of this debacle, opt to say and do nothing. Then 9/11 happened. As it turns out, Richard Jewell may have been on the right side of history all along, patiently waiting for the rest of us to catch up with him.