Chicago 10 (DVD)

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The Democrats held their 1968 Presidential Convention in Chicago, and while hardly anybody remembers the convention itself, people surely remember the surrounding events. It took place just as controversy over the Vietnam War was heating to a frenzy, and protesters of all stripes surrounded the convention hall. The government brought eight people in particular to trial for disturbing the peace and inciting a riot, with the ensuing court case making bigger headlines than the convention ever did.

The eight protesters the government put on trial were Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, David Dellinger, Tom Hayden, Rennie Davis, John Froines, Lee Weiner, and Bobby Seale. The movie's writer and director, Brett Morgen ("On the Ropes," "The Kid Stays in the Picture"), titled his 2007 film version of the events "Chicago 10" because at the time of the trial Rubin insisted that people include their two lawyers in the name of the group.

The trial became a circus, the hijinks ironically attracting more attention to the antiwar movement than the Chicago authorities, the Democratic Party, or the U.S. Government had ever wanted. In keeping with the goofy and sometimes frantic spirit of the circumstances that transpired, Morgen uses not only archival footage but animation to tell the story. It's not your ordinary documentary.

You can't say Morgen didn't muster the best possible cast for the picture, either. He assembled the voice talents of Hank Azaria, Nick Nolte, Mark Ruffalo, Amy Ryan, Roy Scheider, Liev Schreiber, and Jeffrey Wright, among others, to bring the tale to life. Of course, it didn't do much good. Paramount opened the film in a limited run, where it died an inglorious death. Maybe it will pick up a following on DVD, although, to be honest, despite its storytelling creativity, it doesn't generate as much inspiration or excitement as I would have expected.

Morgen alternates newsreel shots of the real-life convention activities with animated scenes of the subsequent trial, and the two techniques don't always mesh. The polar-opposite styles tend sometimes to clash jarringly, the one showing the harsh realities of the situation, the other presenting a much more lightweight, comical side. Given the serious consequences of the situation, it doesn't seem quite fair not to have settled down to a single tone. After all, the events of the film (the protests, especially) were in part responsible for many of the "Peace Now," "Power to the people," free speech, question authority, right of assembly, and antigovernment movements and demonstrations we know today, among much more. At the very least, the Chicago 10 (or the Chicago 8, or the Chicago 7 without Seale) incidents gave voice to these movements. Here, however, the animation in particular seems somewhat to trivialize them.

Outside the convention hall, police tear-gassed protesters and beat them with clubs, while the National Guard stood by as necessary. Newsman Walter Cronkite called Chicago at that moment a "police state." At the later trial, the defendants took special pleasure in tormenting the seventy-five-year-old, conservative judge (whose name, coincidentally, was Hoffman). At one point, Rubin and defendant Hoffman appeared in court wearing black judicial robes. When the judge ordered them to take them off, they were wearing fake police uniforms underneath. The defendants were clearly trying to mock the government and point out the hypocrisy of the war, yet somehow the way the movie depicts these events, it never does much more than entertain for a minute or two. While I have all the sympathy in the world for the defendants, the protesters, the marchers, and everything they stood for, Morgen's film presentation never moved me as much as it should have.