The Good Shepherd

(Universal Home Entertainment, 4.3.2007)

Part of the complicated appeal of The Godfather films always stemmed from their discreet critique of American business and government. In that landmark trilogy, mob corruption stood in for American injustice and deviousness in all its forms. While The Good Shepherd's fictionalized -- but exhaustively researched -- account of one man's descent into self-loathing in the face of professional success mirrors The Godfather's bleak, ironic worldview, it failed to achieve that series' blockbuster success, presumably because it dared to challenge the mythology of American power head on, rather than consider it byway of a more traditional criminal organization.

Matt Damon stars as Edward Wilson, a timid, introverted Yale student, who still appears to be unsettled by his father's suicide more than a decade earlier. Recruited by the notorious, highly secretive Skull and Bones society, Wilson soon finds himself enmeshed in the social network of the country's ruling elite. Before long, he abandons his true love (Tammy Blanchard) for a fellow Bonesman's sister (Angelina Jolie) -- an act of status-conscious conformity that he soon grows to regret -- and finds himself employed by a fledgling (and again, highly secretive) government agency that later comes to be known as the C.I.A.

Over the course of several decades, the film charts parallel developments in Wilson's personal and professional trajectories. As the agency grows increasingly powerful, Wilson's marriage crumbles and his son, ever anxious to please his father, expresses an interest in joining the family business. But Wilson soon finds that, rather than empower and liberate his family members, his life of secrecy and deceit places them in severe, even life-threatening danger.

After years of ethical lapses, Wilson realizes that he's repeating the tragic mistakes of his once powerful father but, paradoxically, his compromised ideals are at the core of his professional success. By the film's conclusion, Edward experiences a kind of spiritual death much like his father's literal death years earlier, a parallel that is re-enforced by the long-delayed first reading of his father's suicide note, which perfectly articulates Edward's own decline.

Directed by Robert De Niro, who is widely regarded as the great American actor of his generation, you'd expect The Good Shepherd to make its strongest impression in the acting department. This may be the case, but not in the manner you might expect. Rather than call on his actors to deliver the falsely energized, expressive performances that a Shakespearean drama of this magnitude might appear to call for, he surprisingly -- and effectively -- steers his actors in the opposite direction.

Bringing to mind Al Pacino's restrained work in the first two Godfather films, Matt Damon delivers his most internalized performance to date, allowing Wilson's actions to do the talking, rather than editorialize with Oscar-baiting theatrics. This strategy draws the audience in, searching for answers to the riddle that is Edward Wilson. Of course, this approach is also thematically appropriate. By profession, Wilson's duty is to hide far more than he reveals. Inevitably, this bleeds over into his family life, where he experiences his greatest loss, due largely to his remote, bottled-up demeanor and unquestioning compliance to the morally suspect demands of his profession.

And yet The Good Shepherd is more than just a portrait of one man's decline. It is also a fascinating and epic portrait of a government agency's (and, by extension, a country's) fall from grace. As dramatized by De Niro and virtuoso screenwriter Eric Roth (The Insider, Munich), the C.I.A.'s decline as a moral, law-abiding agency coincides precisely with its ascendancy to power as the organization that defines and executes American foreign policy. But if the United States' most significant and morally questionable actions are planned and executed in private, can it really be called a democracy?

Dense with information and intricately structured, The Good Shepherd makes provocative and even profound statements about the meaning of success and the legitimacy of government in an increasingly secretive, corrupt, and undemocratic world. It's a challenging and ambivalent film, but one that rewards patient viewers with its rich, unsettling vision. -- Jonathan Doyle