Film Review: “Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7: More than a Historical Narrative of One of America’s Most Notorious Trials.”
Yesmina Khedir
Released on 25 September 2020, Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 came out at a critical period of the U.S. contemporary history. With the rising demands for social and racial justice led by the Black Lives Matter movement and the huge demonstrations that swept American streets —and across the world— to denounce police violence and discrimination against people of color following the cold-blooded murder of George Floyd in May 2020, The Trial of the Chicago 7 is more relevant today than any time since the 1960s. Sorkin himself states in his foreword to The Trial of the Chicago: An Official Transcript that “the country’s mood in 2020 is eerily similar to what it was in 1968” (2020, xv). By taking us back to the 1960s, Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 aims to reconstruct and revise facts around what happened during one of the most notorious trials in the history of the U.S. courthouse. Indeed, the film moves even beyond the mere historical and legal representation of the “Chicago 7” trial to provide a larger social, political, and cultural overview of one of the most tumultuous decades of U.S. history.
Written and directed by Aaron Sorkin, The Trial of the Chicago 7 is a 130-minute historical legal drama that is based on the true story of the case of the United States v. Dellinger et al., more known as the “Chicago 7,” which started in the fall of 1969 and ended in the winter of 1970, lasting for more than six months. The film portrays the trial of a group of anti-Vietnam war and counter-culture activists who staged a massive revolution during the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, USA. The trial initially included eight defendants: Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, David Dallinger, Tom Hayden, Rennie Davis, John Froines, Lee Weiner, and Bobby Seale, with William Kunstler as their defense attorney, Richard Schultz as the federal lead prosecutor, and Julius Hoffman as the Judge. The “Chicago 8” became the “Chicago 7” after Judge Hoffman declared mistrial for Bobby Seale, leaving the scene with seven defendants.
Handpicked by Richard Nixon’s newly-designated attorney general John Mitchell, Richard Schultz is appointed to make a case against the eight defendants and charge them with conspiracy to cross state lines in order to incite riots. Though he accepts the mission, Schultz is not utterly convinced they can get an indictment on conspiracy because some of the defendants have never met each other personally prior to the protests. Asked by Mitchell for his own personal opinion on the defendants, Schultz replies “I see them as vulgar, anti-establishment, antisocial, and unpragmatic” (1:57:30). He also describes them during the first day of the trial as “the radical left in different costumes” (1:47:22): The Student for Democratic Society (SDS) represented by Tom Hayden and Rennie Davis, the Youth International Party (Yippies) represented by Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin, and The Black Panther Party, led by Bobby Seale. However, as we may feel, Schultz’s view of the case remains controversial throughout the trial and though he fiercely tries to win, he shows doubts on “who started the riots. Was it the protesters, or the defendants?” (1:57:18). Today, fifty years after the trial, Schultz still firmly believes that the trial was a complete mayhem and that the defendants were given exactly what they wanted: “a stage and an audience” (1:56:59). He describes Sorkin’s movie as “fun to watch--- just a fantasy, that’s all” (Rogers 2020).
Perhaps some of the most remarkable and memorable scenes of the movie are the ones that feature Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin. As non-conformists and counter-culturalists, Hoffman and Rubin contribute to most of the movie’s fun parts. Despite the momentousness of the occasion, the two defendants’ sarcastic and humorous tactics in addressing Judge Hoffman render the trial rather unexpectedly entertaining. The trial, as shown by the movie, feels indeed more like a black comedy show[1], a political satire that evokes more serious and deeply-rooted issues at the heart of American democracy and culture. In a Sorkinese theatrical fashion, the courtroom becomes more like a stage with Hoffman and Rubin, in their funky hippie outfits and un-groomed hair-styles, more like standup-comedians mocking the proceedings and pranking on Judge Julius Hoffman and the American criminal justice system. For instance on one occasion, Hoffman and Rubin appear in courtroom wearing judicial robes (for which they are charged with one count of contempt), and on another one, Abbie Hoffman calls Judge Hoffman as “father” (1:48:35) in a religiously-scoffing tone, only to add later in a more sarcastic way that contempt of court “is practically a religion for me, Sir” (1:48:27). Actually, in playing respectively Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin, Sacha Baron Cohen and Jeremy Strong can only be hailed for their performance and contribution to the movie’s successful portrayal of the Yippies approach and role in the countercultural and revolutionary climate of the 1960s.
Humor aside, the movie abounds also with graphically violent and shocking scenes: flashbacks of the protesters’ bloody confrontations with the police, a scene of sexual assault against one of the female protesters, footage of Martin Luther King’s and John F. Kennedy’s assassinations, and above all the extremely humiliating scene of Bobby Seale with his legs and hands chained and his mouth gagged and tapped in front of everyone in the courtroom. The sympathetic image of Bobby Seale in the shackles is no more but another familiar dehumanizing “spectacle” that evokes the ongoing systemic violence against Black people. Commenting on Judge Hoffman’s mistreatment of all the defendants, and more particularly of Bobby Seale, William M. Kunstler states in his introduction to the The Chicago Conspiracy Trial book, “The judge seldom missed an opportunity to hold up the defendants and/or their attorneys to scorn and ridicule . . . In dramatic impact, however, his treatment of Bobby Seale completely overshadowed his other excesses” (1970, xiv). In addition to publically mortifying Bobby Seale, Judge Hoffman denied him his constitutional right to represent and defend himself in the absence of his lawyer. However, as shown in the movie, Seale certainly exhibited great courage and perseverance in defending himself and denouncing what he describes as “a racist decadent America where the Government of the United States does not recognize the black man’s constitutional rights, and have never recognized them” (qtd in. Kunstler 1970, xv). As the National Chairman of the Black Panther Party, Seale does not believe in non-violent resistance and rather advocates militant self-defense. So, when one of his friends mentions the name of Dr. King, Seale replies “King is dead. He has a dream? Well now he has a fucking bullet in his head. Martin’s dead, Malcolm’s dead, Medgar’s dead, Bobby’s dead, Jesus is dead. They tried it peacefully? We gon’ try something else” (2:05:16). Bobby Seale’s phrase certainly reveals one of the major ideological differences among the leaders of Black activism in the 60s as well as the “disenchantment with . . . the partial success of the Civil Rights movement” (Gaál-Szabó 2021, 99-100). Besides Bobby Seale, Sorkin’s movie briefly covers the story of another Black Panther leader, Fred Hampton. And although The Trial of the Chicago 7 does not go into the details around Hampton’s assassination, it certainly raises questions and sheds light on one of America’s most heinous crimes and attempts at silencing and persecuting Black political activists in the 1960s.
As a script writer, Sorkin insists that “[t]o keep your story compelling and believable, make sure the stakes in the character’s life are high, urgent, and believable” (Olchawska 2020). And the film does a good job in exploring the inmost motives and the underlying tension between the defendants. And perhaps the most obvious ideological clash in the movie is the one between Abbie Hoffman and Tom Hayden. The two have differing views of the very meaning and appropriate methodology of revolution. While Hoffman believes that a cultural revolution, which involves street demonstrations, music, theatre, performance, sexual liberation, etc., is the most effective way to end the war, dismantle social norms, and bring political and cultural changes, Tom Hayden asserts he has “no time for cultural revolution. It distracts from actual revolution” (1:41:45) and goes further to verbally and physically attack Hoffman and doubt his real desire to end the war. Hoffman, in his turn too, accuses Hayden of taking advantage of the war cause to achieve other personal political goals. Despite the obvious competing visions of the defendants, the movie features as well other moments of solidarity among them. For instance, Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin are the ones who led the march to free and bail out Tom Hayden after being arrested for deflating the tire of a police car. Also, as a gesture of opposition to Judge Hoffman’s discriminatory behavior and public humiliation of Bobby Seale, the defendants refused to stand up for Judge Hoffman when he adjourned the session—except for Tom Hayden who first stood up but then sat down hesitantly explaining later that his behavior was just “a mistake, a reflex” (46:37). Furthermore, Abbie Hoffman’s view of Tom Hayden changes radically by the end of the trial as he finally comes to see him as a “badass of an American patriot” (18:51).
We cannot talk about Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 without pointing to the almost complete absence of women[2]. The movie’s all-male ensemble cast leaves little space for highlighting the important role that women played in the antiwar and civil rights movements of the 1960s. Indeed, the very few occasions where we see female figures are scenes of women that are being either verbally and physically sexually assaulted (the attempted rape of one of the female protesters and the sexual harassment over the phone of the “conspiracy office” female employee) or excluded from decision-making (the young female juror who is removed from the trial allegedly for receiving a threatening letter from the Black Panther, but most probably for being seen holding a James Baldwin book). However, whether the absence of women reflects a failure of the movie in giving credit to women’s activism and contribution in the civil rights struggle or is due to the very nature of the story, it certainly tells something about the sexist and anti-feminist political and cultural climate of the 1960s and before.
Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7 triggered both positive and negatives reactions. While the movie has been criticized by some reviewers and critics for its occasional lack of historical accurateness, its unfaithfulness to the trial’s official transcript, and its exaggeration of the conflictual relationship between the defendants[3], it remains first and foremost a creative work of art which has its own aesthetic take and approach of the story. The Trial of the Chicago 7 is indeed more than a historical narrative of one of the most infamous trials in the U.S. history or of the complex cultural and political swings of the famous Sixties, but rather a reminder that change comes only with resistance and a call for continued action for social and economic justices in a time of serious global challenges. No wonder the movie has earned several Oscar nominations, including Best picture, Best Supporting Actor, and Best Original Screenplay.
Bibliography
Gaál-Szabó, Péter. “Black culture, then, is God’s way of acting in America”: Black Theology,
Culture, and Identity.” Werkstatt 15 (2021): 99-109. http://werkstatt.unideb.hu/2020/gaalszabop.pdf
Kunstler, William M. Introduction to The Conspiracy Trial, edited by Judy Clavir and John
Spitzer, xiii-xvi. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merril, 1970.
Olchawska, M. “Writers on Writing: Aaron Sorkin.” Medium, September 8, 2020.
https://medium.com/writing-club/writing-tips-aaron-sorkin-dc76c3fb48b6
Rogers, Phil.“Prosecutor Recalls Chaotic Scene at 1969 Chicago 7 Trial.” NBC 5 Chicago,
October 15, 2020. https://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local/prosecutor-recalls-chaotic-scene-at-1969-chicago-7-trial/2354703/
Sorkin, Aaron. Foreword to The Trial of the Chicago 7: The Official Transcript, edited by Mark
L. Levine, George C. Mcnamee, and Daniel L. Greenberg, xiii-xv. New York: Simon and
Schuster Paperbacks, 2020.
Sorkin, Aaron, dir. 2020. The Trial of the Chicago 7. USA, Netflix.
[1] This has also been noted by several reviewers. See for instance Owen Gleiberman’s review of the movie on Variety (https://variety.com/2020/film/reviews/the-trial-of-the-chicago-7-review-aaron-sorkin-sacha-baron-cohen-eddie-redmayne-1234781640/) or K. Austin Collins’s review on RollingStone (https://www.rollingstone.com/movies/movie-reviews/trial-chicago-7-aaron-sorkin-sacha-baron-cohen-review-1074099/).
[2] The film’s complete erasure of the role of women in the antiwar movement has been highlighted by Judi Gambo, 1960s counterculture activist and member of the Yippies. (for more details see, https://www.berkeleyside.com/2020/10/28/berkeley-antiwar-organizers-trial-of-the-chicago-7-aaron-sorkin-netflix)
[3] For more details on the film’s shortcomings, see Frances Dinkelspiel’s article on Berkleyside (https://www.berkeleyside.com/2020/10/28/berkeley-antiwar-organizers-trial-of-the-chicago-7-aaron-sorkin-netflix)