Quiz Show

"Cheating on a quiz show? That's like plagarizing a comic strip."

Robert Redford delivers a solid film with Quiz Show (1994). Perhaps not as insightful as it hopes to be, the movie works as a high-toned drama, carried by cerebral writing and a perfect cast.

1950s America is enraptured by NBC's game show Twenty-One, hosted by Jack Barry (Christopher McDonald). The studio honchos want to oust Herb Stempel (John Turturro), an untelegenic New York Jew, from the champion seat, enlisting Charlie Van Doren (Ralph Fiennes), scion of a wealthy literary family, to win in a rigged match-up. Charlie's initally reluctant but quickly becomes intoxicated by the whirlwind of fame his appearances bring - and can't back out, even when he wants to. Stempel belatedly decides to expose NBC's fraud, gaining the attention of Congressional aide Ron Goodwin (Rob Morrow).

Quiz Show depicts a true story with style and verve. Besides a perfect recreation of the '50s (sans American Graffiti cliches), Redford provides a jaundiced picture of the era. Underneath the amiable exterior is a seething mass of class tension, cultural anxiety and media manipulation. NBC's fraud is strictly legal, but there's something to be said betraying the trust of millions. Rigging shows in ways obvious and subtle (making Stempel sweat by changing temperature)  may not be overly shocking today. But to a more innocent America, they were an earth-shattering shock. Ratings overwhelms honesty, consumerism beats ethics.

Redford scores his strongest points comparing the protagonists. Janet Maslin sees Van Doren as an avatar for Redford himself, an arrogant pretty boy who feels he's owed the world. Ultimately though, Charlie is a tragic figure: he laps up the attendant fame and fortune, all the while tortured by his deceit. The strongest scenes are between Charlie and his father (Paul Scofield), who suspects something's amiss but is blinded by fatherly pride. The fawning deference shown by the media and even the government further entraps Charlie. Ulimately, he becomes a victim of his own image.

By contrast, Stemple is a striving, neurotic nebbish eager to take down the upper-class Charlie. He's initially dismissed as a cheat, a sore loser and a lunatic - until the evidence becomes overwhelming. At home he's constantly bickering with his wife and seeing therapists. When Van Doren snubs him after their match, taking down NBC becomes a vendetta against the snobs and the glad-handing elite. This time, it's personal.

Redford frames the Van Doren-Stemple rivalry as a prelude to the "culture wars" that erupted a decade later. One working class Senator expresses disgust at his seeing his colleagues trip overthemselves to applaud Charlie's confession. Intellectuals are no longer feted but distrusted, allowing the "forgotten Americans" to take their place. This divide emerged sharply in the following decades, when conservatives exploited resentment against Ivy League elites. With the rise of Nixon's "silent majority" and Reagan conservatism, one concludes the Stemples won decisively.

If Quiz Show falters, it's through emphatically purveying an obvious message. Observing television is out to get us is nothing new: such bromides existed since Newton Minow declared it a "vast wasteland" 51 years ago. Certainly the movie lacks the subversive bite of Network or even The Running Man. Still, one can easily enjoy Quiz Show without this posturing.

John Turturro receives top-billing for a zany character turn. Ralph Fiennes proves the film's real center, all Ivy League self-assurance and nagging guilt. Paul Scofield gets the emotional highpoints, obliviously proud of his son's achievement. David Paymer and Hank Azaria are agreeably sleazy producers. Rob Morrow is fine as a non-descript straight arrow. The female stars (Mira Sorvino, Elizabeth Wilson) fare less well. Directors Martin Scorsese and Barry Levinson cameo; Calista Flockhart and Ethan Hawke have early bit parts.

Perhaps Quiz Show's most effective aspect is invoking a more innocent time. Redford depicts a Fifties America that values intelligence, embraces progress and intrinsically trusts the media. My, how far we've come.

PS: I would be remiss if I didn't link Mr. Van Doren's own thoughts on the scandal.