"State of Play" is a relevant exploration of Washington and 21st century power that deftly navigates the streets of the city of D.C. from the eyes of a dying breed.
Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe) is a dinosaur, a relic of the print media's past - and he knows it. A staff writer for The Washington Globe, a thinly disguised Washington Post, Cal drives a 19-year-old car and types on a 16-year-old computer. Long, hippie bangs and a well-fed belly distinguish him for future status as an artifact in the new age, standing apart from opinion-driven, sensationalist Web journalists exemplified by Della Frye (Rachel McAdams). With the paper under new ownership, the pair is constantly hounded about doing stories and selling papers, as the film intones journalism-as-we-know-it's death knell. The film chronicles a time when getting the story and getting it right is no longer everything there is - there is also getting it first, getting it last and getting it bought.
Together, the still-working cliché of the gray shaded vet (McAffrey) and wide-eyed newbie (Frye) traverse the halls of power, digging through a tangled web woven between U.S. congressman Stephen Collins (played by a contemplative but oil-slick-haired Ben Affleck), and the dearly departed aide with whom he'd been having an affair. Careful not to use any actual names, the film points a fat finger at government contractor PointCorp, as thinly-veiled an analogy for Blackwater and Halliburton as the Globe is for the Post. Of course, there always has to be the inside man, politicians on the take and extramarital affairs.
"State of Play" makes no attempts to hide its role as epitaphs to journalism and journalists past and present, but without future. Everything about Cal screams gruff-and-tumble reporting with cigarettes and whiskey and, instead of wild women, there are memories of Woodward and Bernstein to drive him insane. There may be no clandestine meetings in parking garages with Deep Throat, but that didn't stop director Kevin MacDonald from making the Watergate Hotel a prominent location and one nameless, nonexistent spook of an informant a key plot point.
Of course, the film is as much journalistic advertisement as it is death toll. Little in the way of action occurs, despite the high tension and ever-looming threat of shady men in dark alleys with bulges in their pockets. Instead, the film is very much a reporter's movie, with ink-to-paper and fingers-to-keyboard as the intrepid reporters gallantly seek out the source, making phone calls and sticking feet in doors to get the interview and the scoop. Fortunately for "State of Play," the depictions of reporting never feel contrived but instead have a sense of extreme realism. The audience feels a bit like a reporter with pad in hand, rifling through the story piece by precious piece as the many disjointed ends slowly resolve themselves without ever giving the plot away.
Few films manage to involve D.C. as thoroughly as "State of Play." More than just a few scant looks at the Capitol and night shots of the Washington Monument, the city comes alive as those familiar with the District see literally dozens of notable landmarks, constantly making mental notes that they were there, becoming ever more a part of the story - not just a viewer but a bystander watching the cars, reporters and rolls of newspaper waft past.
"State of Play" makes its points well. A bold and tense exploration of Washington and its politics, it involves the audience in the life and times of reporting, perhaps a little more adventure and a little less droll reporting, but still ultimately speaking a level of truth about the power of the pen. Great acting and a thrilling plot make the two hours fly by in a whirl of pen and ink and the power of the press.
You can reach this writer at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
