Richard Jewell by Eastwood

Eastwood is delicate in this fresco of human tragedy, where an anonymous and helpless family is crushed by the gears of power during the 1990s in Georgia.

The theme of easy labels, stuck then already with the emptiness of today’s babble, is treated with the astonished gaze of the domestic hearth, devastated by the quiet ferocity, almost unconscious, of the Government and the Media; all of them, after all, are simply doing their duty, just, without too much effort, analysis, research.

Nobody, in the end, has anything against the respectful thirty-year-old guy, except for the campus rector who triggers the whole flip of events, first oriented in one direction, and then in the opposite one.

Opportunism, arrogance and shallowness are behind every simple sentence or small gesture of those supporting actors and extras painted in darker shades of gray; in all that, the impotence of a young man, who doesn’t grasp the difference between Institutions and people working there, stigmatizes the painful distortion of society, where the proclaimed words not only should not be taken literally, but should not be taken seriously either.