Good Night And Good Luck Analysis

Texts from any era are pivotal in responding to the ways of thinking that embody its ideological construction. Particularly prevalent in the period ‘After the Bomb’, Cold War texts are no exception, and successfully dissect the changing paradigmatic interpretations of post-war values. Such ways of thinking include the rise of existential philosophy, and the paranoia-inducing, ideological tensions within both the public and private spheres. The former principle is central to both Samuel Beckett’s 1953 tragicomedy Waiting for Godot, and the 1986 animated film adaptation of Raymond Briggs’ picture book ‘When the Wind Blows’. The latter characterises George Clooney’s 2005 docudrama Good Night and Good Luck, as well as Barbara Kingsolver’s 2009

Firebrand politicians, such as Wisconsin Senator Joseph McCarthy, saw an opportunity to encourage nationwide vigilantism by demonising Communist infiltrators. McCarthy’s contribution to the era of ‘containment’ was examined in George Clooney’s 2005 film Good Night and Good Luck. Of the piece, Clooney reflected, “I didn’t want this to be a polarising piece, I wanted it to be a factual one,” justifying his choice of docudrama for its creative innovation. By choosing a grey-scale palette, he represents the ‘black and white’ nature of the historical facts, allowing audiences to interpret his message independently. In a powerful closing monologue, presenter Edward Murrow reasons, “If anyone who criticises or opposes Senator McCarthy’s methods is a Communist, there must be an awful lot of Communists in this country.” This reflects the juxtaposition inherent in Murrow’s initial axiom, and trivialises the effects of McCarthy’s campaign in the public sphere. However, the film contrasts the initial mockery of the containment campaign with the effects the tension of clashing political paradigms had on the private lives of individuals. McCarthy’s inspired vigilantism rendered many unable to distinguish adverse political and personal values, igniting a nationwide ‘witch-hunt’ that superseded his campaign’s anti-Communist intentions. The suicide of Don Hollenbeck, a newscaster accused of being a Communist sympathiser, is shown first from his perspective, using point-of-view shots to create ambiguity, and universalise his actions. The darker, almost non-existent lighting reinforces the scene’s macabre tone, contrasting the well-lit boardroom where CBS colleagues mocked McCarthy in the previous scene. Ultimately, the