Oscar Best Picture Spotlight: Someone always needs to check the power
The serious and classical subject matter of Spotlight may seem a little out of place in these post-apocalyptic times of journalism, but it still speaks loudly and proudly about investigative journalism as a counterweight to the powers that be and about exposing the truth. Perhaps this is the way it should be, no matter what the age, independent reporting and investigation by the media should be an indispensable counterweight, because in any environment, there will be powerful people, and without independent oversight of such unassailable opponents, the weaker side will remain trapped in the dark for a long time.
The story of Spotlight is simple and straightforward, with a few journalists breaking through the barriers to bring to light the inner workings of a church that sexually abuses children. For this type of film, there is a natural dichotomy between good and evil, with the media representing the side of good and the church they investigate the enemy who has been trying to hide the truth. But the good thing is that director Thomas McCarthy doesn't completely heroise the former, nor does he portray the latter as a complete buffoon. More importantly, the film is written as a "complex tug of war". One of Marty Barron's first acts as the new editor-in-chief is to urge his "Spotlight" department to investigate the church's shady practices. But he knows how to move in and out and when to do so. This was a major reason why the story was ultimately so powerful.
When the new editor-in-chief, a celebrity in the community, attended a church-sponsored social event, he sat face-to-face on a sofa with the head of the church, one exchanging pleasantries, the other smiling, and for a few minutes it was a scene that captured the psychological ripples of a professional media man dealing with a complex situation. As editor-in-chief in charge of a newspaper, he must assume part of the role of socialiser, but he is also well aware of the need to maintain his independence from various power groups. When the man in his church robes across the table said to him politely, "I'd like to help the paper," Marty Barron responded politely, "I think the media should remain independent." There was a flash of genuine embarrassment and performative understanding on the other man's face, a brief moment that was in fact an important twist in the film and, in a way, signalled a clear declaration of war. That indicates that some people refuse to join the game of the deal, that the scene is such that he can maintain basic courtesy but, at the same time, will not hide a firm assertiveness. It was the mature and unworldly attitude.
The Church is an almost untouchable presence, its backbone and its thin branches so closely entwined with society as a whole and even the system of power that even though it has broken into scandal countless times, only specific individuals have been punished, and the system has never been shaken. And now, what editor-in-chief Marty Barron is trying to do is to bring to light the systemic problems, to show the public that the reason for so many sexual assaults is not the personal vices of one or two priests, but the inevitable result of a blind eye at the top to it, and a systemic sickness as a whole. But getting there is far more difficult than exposing one or two priests. It requires biding one's time. As journalists, they go to great lengths to get their material published, and if they publish it early, they hand over the initiative to the church and allow the other side to adopt a strategy of abandoning the pawn to save the day, while if they publish it late, they lose out to competition among their peers. There is a professional helplessness and entanglement in this.
For the media, investigative reporting is a matter of public interest, not personalised feuds, but the process of reporting inevitably brings in its own feelings and emotions. When they learn of scandal after scandal that has been concealed, and see individuals on the verge of collapse, they themselves inevitably fall into anger and rage, but they must keep themselves within the framework of reason, pursuing and seeking proof step by step, which is painful and comforting in a way that outsiders can hardly understand. Media professionals are professionals, not saints, so they are driven not only by a sense of justice, but also by something called ambition, a sense of achievement that is rewarded in a way that no other profession can understand. Spotlight articulates this nuanced emotion, which only an insider can perceive, with great precision.
The cast is striking, whether it's Michael Keaton in Birdman or Mark Ruffalo, who did a superb job in Foxcatcher, they're both impeccable in Spotlight. And then there's Levi Schreiber as managing editor Marty Barron, who previously starred as a silent, enigmatic man with self-destructive tendencies in the niche American drama Scavenger, and who this time delivers a mild-mannered, determined man at the helm of a newspaper with very few lines.
Seen in a different light, this depressing but also combative story becomes a media anthem for the times. While the need for the media to act as a counterweight to power is well understood, there is nothing anyone can do to change the reality that the media's aura is now dissipating. As news becomes more and more entertaining and fast-moving, it can hardly form a block of power anymore, and no one knows in what way this indispensable fourth power will return to its original place.
