News

‘Deal with the Devil’: Harvard Medical School Faculty Grapple with Increased Industry Research Funding

News

As Dean Long’s Departure Looms, Harvard President Garber To Appoint Interim HGSE Dean

News

Harvard Students Rally in Solidarity with Pro-Palestine MIT Encampment Amid National Campus Turmoil

News

Attorneys Present Closing Arguments in Wrongful Death Trial Against CAMHS Employee

News

Harvard President Garber Declines To Rule Out Police Response To Campus Protests

Uneasy Lies the Leader’s Crown

By Scoop A. Wasserstein, Crimson Staff Writer

“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.” That key line from Shakespeare’s “Henry IV” is prominently quoted in both “The Queen” and “The Departed,” two films which came to Harvard Square two weeks ago.

This is more than a coincidence: the quotation gets to the heart of the cultural moment. Both movies demonstrate that powerful leaders’ human flaws inevitably instigate tragic consequences that cause succession. As their respective countries turn against President Bush and Tony Blair for overreaching their authority on failed quests—particularly the “War on Terror”—these films seem perfectly timed. But the relationship between the political reality and the cinematic representation of leadership uncertainty seems surprisingly elliptical for Hollywood, particularly during the last few years.

In the initial response to the Iraq war, didactic “documentary”—particularly in America—postulations of Bush’s mustache-twirling villainy ruled the political filmmaking arena, including “Why We Fight,” “Uncovered: The Whole Truth About the Iraq War,” “Bush’s Brain,” and mack-daddy of them all, “Fahrenheit 9/11.” These changed the ideological opinions of, roughly, six people.

Last fall, the thematic zeitgeist fell more squarely on the abject villainy of conservative causes and Big Corporations. There was the superheroic-stolidity of Edward R. Murrow facing down Joe McCarthy in “Good Night, and Good Luck,” the conservative lawmakers colluding with the shady oil corporations of “Syriana,” and the political-correctness of “Crash.”

The cinematic theme of the moment has moved on, provoking the curious realization that no matter one’s opinion on Bush and Blair’s leadership, they have certainly aided the development of political art. The new group of film tragedies—which also includes “All the King’s Men” and “The Last King of Scotland”—incite speculation as to the mood of the countries these films reflect.

At first glance, it seems as though we might have reached the point where our leaders’ plight has become so pathetic that they are no longer demagogues who provoke our anger, but tragic figures that engender our sympathy. These characters’ actions are too destructive to be completely sympathetic, leading toward a more cynical interpretation. Humanity is inevitably going to produce human leaders who will provoke terrible consequences, usually due to their mistaken assumptions regarding the necessary actions to preserve their rule.

The titular “Queen,” Elizabeth II, is unable to apprehend the country’s grief in the wake of Princess Diana’s death. Even when the extent of the country’s passion for Diana becomes clear, Elizabeth assumes that hiding her family and her emotions is necessary if she is to keep the country’s respect. In fact, her actions increase the Prime Minister’s power and almost instigate the dissolution of the monarchy. She no longer understands her country and is supplanted.

The crime boss of “The Departed” assumes that installing cronies everywhere and undertaking occasional idiosyncratic actions will keep him permanently installed. The spying and confusing actions are carefully calculated to indicate to his subordinates that no one could do his job as well as he can, while sparing him the law’s wrath.

Being a mafia boss necessitates complete confidence in his assumptions and he assumes this will be effective. These assumptions will eventually destroy him, when he becomes unable to soothe his constituents’ fears.

“The Last King of Scotland” recounts the terror of Idi Amin’s dictatorship. Amin attempts to keep the crown certain by eliminating any threats, but this, paradoxically, only increases his constituents’ desire to change leaders. Shakespeare understood this well, as readers of “Julius Caesar,” “Richard II,” and “Richard III” can attest. “All the King’s Men” shows the rise and fall of a charismatic populist unable to handle the mechanisms of real power.

The tragedy of this new group of films lies not in the main characters, but in our own lives. These movies cast human flaws as destined to erupt tragically regardless of the leader and insinuate that we can only wait for the time when their actions have instigated more harm than their charm can support.

And a new group of leaders will emerge to make an entirely new series of mistakes. The time for change is now. As for the new mistakes, who can say?

—Staff writer Scoop A. Wasserstein can be reached at wasserst@fas.harvard.edu.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags