Inherit the Wind

If there's one thing I hate about social drama films, it's deck-stacking. In fiction, you obviously have the liberty to tell whatever story you want, however you want. But if you're trying to get a point across, you ought to do it in a somewhat believable or balanced manner, or your end product will seem like whining or preaching. Making a complex issue into a simple tale of good and evil usually hurts the drama.

Stanley Kramer's adaptation of Inherit the Wind (1960) is a case in point. Loosely based on the real-life Scopes Monkey Trial, Wind boils down the complex politics and media circus surrounding the trial into a titanic clash of righteous atheists and bigoted Christians. It's not that the issues explored aren't of interest - I certainly agree with the film's take on the separation of Church of State and the importance of free speech - but it rigs the drama in an unsatisfactory way. Not only that, but the alterations make things less dramatic than in reality, sabotaging any justification for dramatic license. For all the histrionic fireworks of Spencer Tracey and Frederic March, Inherit the Wind is hamstrung from the get-go.

In a small Tennessee town circa 1925, science teacher Bertram T. Cates (Dick York) is arrested for teaching evolution to his students. The case gains national attention, and the local citizenry capitalizes off the trial, bringing in populist politician Matthew Harrison Brady (Frederic March) to prosecute. Cates' friends and relatives enlist atheist attorney Henry Drummond (Spencer Tracy) for his defense. The two men square off in the hot courtroom, igniting the air with inflammatory forensics, in a contest of logic and reason against bigotry and narrow-mindness. All seems lost until Drummond puts Brady on the stand, exposing the evangelically-minded prosecutor for a fool.

Inherit the Wind does not claim to be a documentary, so criticizing its myriad inaccuracies seems inappropriate. Problem is, the dramatic license employed here hurts rather than helps the drama. The real-life Scopes Monkey trial was a media circus exploited by both sides for publicity; the ACLU had Scopes teach evolution specifically to provoke a showdown over Tennessee's anti-evolution statute. As the film portrays, the people of Dayton, Tennessee had a field day with the trial, gaining welcome attention and tourist revenue in the resultant hullabaloo, and both atheism and Christianity exploited the trial for their own ends. The outcome of the trial put separation of church and state in the forefront of American consciousness, but actually achieved little - Scopes was, after all, found guilty, and the law remained on the books for years.

With visions of Joe McCarthy dancing in their heads, Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee crafted this story into a straight-forward clash of ideas. What results is an okay drama that takes the easy way out, simplifying all the drama and players into comfortable conventionality. I don't condemn the film for taking dramatic license, but rather the way it uses said license; it gains little from its various distortions of fact. Why change interesting, complex facts into a predictable, simplistic story?

The film is starkly black-and-white in its portrayal of righteous, freedom-loving atheists facing down self-righteous Christian tyrants. While the real William Jennings Bryan was an intelligent man well-acquainted with Darwin, Lee and Lawrence's Brady is a babbling, long-winded moron easily dispatched by a few bon mots. Drummond, the Clarence Darrow analogue, is an obnoxious, self-righteous prick, which might be fine the film owned up to it. He's not unlike Ibsen's Dr. Stockmann, an insufferable jackass we're inexplicably supposed to root for. Drummond gets all the good lines, makes all the good points, resulting in a didactic and slanted drama that eventually grows tiresome.

Compared to something like Elmer Gantry, which criticizes a specific type of Christianity, Wind's unnuanced portrayal of religion does little credit to the drama. It's easy to argue the righteousness of your cause when you portray your rivals as uniformly bigoted morons; much harder when, like the real Bryan, they are anything but. The attempts to make Brady sympathetic towards the end come off as half-assed and disingenuous - he seems more pathetic than anything. The movie's gestures towards tolerance are especially rich coming from the obnoxious Drummond character; his lecturing the hectoring reporter (Gene Kelly) about Brady's past greatness seems like a bad joke after the past two hours of defamation.

The basic story is undeniably compelling. Trial films, particularly those involving conscience and free speech, are almost always compelling. Using real-life trial transcripts and a cast of fine actors, Kramer and his writers create a film that's never boring. Indeed, moments of it are excellent, particularly Drummond and Brady's reminiscence over their shared past, and it's not bad as a straightforward drama of conscience. However, variations of it have been done many other times, from The Passion of Joan of Arc and The Crucible to A Man for All Seasons and Becket, and often better. And Cates' penalty - a $100 fine - seems paltry compared to being burned at the stake, beheaded or pressed to death.

Kramer's direction is fine, making use of some excellent, moody cinematography. The film's oppressive atmosphere is undeniably effective, from the chilling opening to the oppressive, steamy court room. The use of music is quite excellent, particularly the refrains of Old Time Religion, emphasizing the fiery determination of the small-town bigots. The movie is just cinematic enough to be more than a mere filmed play, while allowing the drama to succeed or fail on the shoulders of its script and cast.

Spencer Tracey gives one of his best performances, infusing Drummond with fierce determination and strength of will. His conversion to tolerance isn't particularly convincing, but that's the fault of the script, and Tracey handles these scenes with the appropriate dignity and gravitas. Frederic March is equally impressive, overcoming the limitations of his character and making him almost compelling. Gene Kelly is appropriately snarky as the journalist, and Dick York, Donna Anderson, Harry Morgan and Claude Akins all give fine supporting turns.

Inherit the Wind is a mixed bag. As a straightforward drama of conscience, it has its merits, particularly due to its excellent cast. As an attempt to explore the Scopes trial and related issues, it's really empty, shallow, and one-sided. I agree with the message, but wish it had been explored in a better, more nuanced work.