Quiz Show [DVD] [1995]

Well aware of the contests' new, uniquely thrilling live entertainment, studio executives and sponsors quickly capitalized on their appeal, eager to maximize the resulting profits. To that end, however, the shows' outcome couldn't be left to chance: Then as now, viewers were looking for the "right" kind of hero to identify with; so ultimately it was unthinkable to let someone like Herbert Stempel (John Turturro) - not only an annoying nerd with thick glasses and bad teeth but worse, an annoying *Jewish* nerd with thick glasses and bad teeth - win the famous "Twenty-One" for more than a couple of weeks. A more suitable replacement was found in Columbia University lecturer Charles Van Doren (Ralph Fiennes), descendant of one of New England's foremost intellectual families and, in the words of the show's co-producer Albert Freedman (Hank Azaria), soon the TV nation's new "great white hope." A brilliant intellectual who nevertheless felt eternally inferior to his Pulitzer Prize-winning father, poet Mark Van Doren (Paul Scofield), his mother (Elizabeth Wilson), likewise a distinguished author, and his uncle, Pulitzer Prize winner Carl Van Doren, Charles ultimately agreed to sell his integrity for a high flight to fame and fortune on borrowed wings, and thus succumbed to the one force driving a quiz show's appeal more than anything else: money, and astronomically large sums thereof.

Based on former Congressional investigator and Kennedy speechwriter Richard Goodwin's "Remembering America: A Voice From the Sixties" and scripted by Paul Attanasio, Robert Redford's 1994 film brilliantly traces the "Twenty-One" scandal - the biggest of several scandals involving rigged quiz shows - from the moment Stempel was told to take a humiliating dive and pass the helm to Van Doren (Goodwin also co-produced). The movie's tone is set from the opening scene, which focuses on neither of the contestants but Goodwin himself (Rob Morrow), newly arrived in Washington with a first-in-his-class Harvard Law School degree in his pockets, and admiring the latest thing in automobile technology in a Chrysler showroom ("Used to be the man drives the car, now the car drives the man," he eventually comments, wowed by the dealer's sales talk). Turning on the radio, they catch an announcer's remark on the Sputnik launch: "All is not well with America" (but "America doesn't own the [Chrysler] 300," the dealer responds). Then Goodwin changes the station and the film's opening credits begin to roll, significantly over Bobby Darin's "Mack the Knife" from Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill's "Threepenny Opera:" Although originally conceived as a "Moritat," a darkly cynical ballad, Darin's swinging, upbeat 1959 version, a No. 1 hit for all of 22 weeks (1 1/2 times as long as Van Doren reigned on "Twenty-One") musically pulls every last tooth out of the song's sharp-edged lyrics; just as television's goody-two-shoes pseudo-reality and America's newfound prosperity seemed to obliterate the era's grimmer sociopolitical truths.

"Quiz Show" has been described, in turns, as a political thriller, a morality play, a parable on the loss of innocence and a fact-based drama; and it is all that, and more. It obviously has to be seen in context with "All the President's Men," Redford's 1976 film costarring Dustin Hoffman and Jason Robards, based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning Woodward-Bernstein account on Watergate. Just as America lost its political innocence there, it had already lost its innocence vis-a-vis showbiz in the quiz show scandals. But this is also a fascinating exploration of the scandal's underlying psychology; of that mix of insecurity, greed, ambition, hero-worship, prejudice and self-deception which made the manipulation possible in the first place and allowed it to go undetected for so long.

Of the movie's tremendous cast, John Turturro, Ralph Fiennes and Paul Scofield particularly give standout performances as the nerdy, deeply humiliated Herb Stempel, the dazzling Ivy Leaguer Charles Van Doren and his intellectually brilliant, unwaveringly supportive and profoundly moral father Mark, who can snap out a Shakespeare quote appropriate to any situation at the drop of a hat. Rob Morrow's Dick Goodwin, the Jewish kid from Brookline who made it to Harvard and D.C. but is still occasionally up against prejudice, is not far behind (although I confess I sometimes find his accent a tad unconvincingly thick; more so than Fiennes's and Scofield's more refined New England versions). Not to be overlooked are also their female costars - besides Elizabeth Wilson, Mira Sorvino and Johann Carlo as Goodwin's and Stempel's wives - and of course the gang responsible for the goings-on at "Twenty-One:" David Paymer as slick producer Dan Enright, Hank Azaria as his sidekick, Christopher McDonald as host Jack Barry, Allan Rich as NBC boss Robert Kintner and Martin Scorsese in a rare and deadpan appearance as an actor as corporate sponsor Geritol's chairman Martin Rittenhome. (Besides, watch for Barry Levinson as "Today Show" host Dave Garroway and Calista Flockhart and Ethan Hawke [uncredited] as star-struck students).

When first setting out to investigate "Twenty-One," Goodwin aimed no lower than putting television itself on trial. But while the Congressional hearings did cause the downfall of the show and its greatest champion, Enright and Barry soon returned to television, and none of the others responsible for the manipulations suffered any consequences at all. Quiz shows are more popular than ever. "Give the public what they want ... It's entertainment. We're not exactly hardened criminals here. We're in showbusiness," was Al Freedman's cynical conclusion. And the movie's last words are again those of Berthold Brecht, but this time in Lyle Lovett's much darker version of the Moritat: "Mackie, how much did you charge ...?"

"Millionaire," anyone?

The acting in this movie is top-notch indeed. John Turturro is wonderful as Herb Sempel, David Paymer and Hank Azaria are convincingly slimy and fast-talking as producers Albert Freedman and Dan Enright, and remarkably talented supporting players such as Paul Scofield and Martin Scorsese make this movie something special, but it is the performance of Rob Morrow in the role of lawyer Dick Goodwin and Ralph Phiennes as Charles Van Doren that really steal the show. (As an aside, look for Ally McBeal's Calista Flockhart in a cameo role as a young coed mooning over her suddenly famous instructor.) These are some complex characters: Sempel is a somewhat paranoid man obsessed with the fame that was taken away from him yet not without secrets himself, but Van Doren is exceedingly hard to read. Oftentimes seemingly ashamed of the fraud he knows he is committing, he allows himself to rationalize his situation, buying into notions that he is doing the right thing by inspiring youngsters to study harder and bringing entertainment to the masses. Beneath all of his motivations lies a seemingly innate need to make his Pulitzer-winning father proud of him and to step out from the shadows of the Van Doren name he secured by birthright alone. I must admit that the lawyer's motivations are somewhat inscrutable to me. Fired up over the chance to "nail television," he is reluctant to implicate everyone despite his zeal for bringing the fraud to light; in the end, it's hard to really say what his most basic motivations are. Any ambiguity I feel over Goodwin's motives is dwarfed by the magnificence of the movie as a whole, however. Clocking in at over two hours, there is not a slow spot to be found anywhere; each scene is dripping with tension and drama. Its subtleties make for great rewatchability, as everything that takes place is important, even though it may not seem so at the time. Van Doren in particular is a marvelous character study in this amazing cinematic morality play.

Having appeared on a game show myself, I thought I might be able to offer a unique perspective on this movie, but its lessons are undeniably universal. I can say that the legacy of this scandal remains vibrant indeed in our own time-I and my fellow contestants were not allowed to bring anything with us to the studio, we were not permitted to go anywhere (including the bathroom) alone all day, and we had to search the faces of the audience in front of us to make sure that no one we knew was in our field of vision. Anyone watching this movie should answer the question that Goodwin answered for himself: if you had been in Van Doren's place, placed under extreme pressure, knowing the eyes of millions would be studying your every move, would you have been a party to a fraud promising you fabulous riches? Beyond providing over two hours of gripping entertainment, this movie compels you to learn something about yourself, and that is one of many reasons why Quiz Show is a certifiably five-star movie.

The movie 'Quiz Show' is based upon the true story of 21 and the scandals surrounding a fix in the questions and answers to facilitate ratings. The show 21 has only recently made it back to television.

21 was a highly rated NBC programme sponsored by Geritol (back in the days when usually one sponsor carried a show and became identified with it in the minds of the public). The producer, host, and other workers played with the audience by making sure that popular contestants returned, and unpopular ones lost, by rigging the questions. Herb Stempel (played by Tuturro) had a several-month run when it was decided that his popularity had reached a plateau, and a new face was needed. Entering the scene was Charles Van Doren (played by Ralph Fiennes), who in the excitement of fame and money succumbed to the temptation of being given the answers, too.

Eventually the government got involved in investigating a fraud (Rob Morrow as Dick Godwin, the investigator, is excellent) related to the show (big play was made about the absolute secrecy of the questions before hand) -- television was not quite in its infancy but was still in its childhood and the public perception was one of trust. When it was revealed that not only was 21 rigged, but that Van Doren had been part of this, the backlash was tremendous, but short-lived.

The production team including the host eventually made it back to television, and indeed Herb Stempel even made a television commercial recently as a parody of himself playing a contestant on a quiz show who had just been given the answer.

But for Van Doren, whose family was noted for academic achievement, the blow was long-lived, and he was never able to establish a career as an academic again. He did go on to author several books, including one of which I use in reading circles and teaching (The History of Knowledge).

What makes the story so remarkable is that most of the people participating were very intelligent. Stempel was a whiz kid at trivia and factual knowledge; Van Doren had a very broad education covering arts and humanities and the natural sciences. If anyone didn't need the help to win, it was these people.

Martin Scorsese has a cameo in which he gives the investigator the very real and somewhat painful truth--people ultimately don't care about the knowledge or education or even the honesty of the shows, they just tune in to watch the money. And in fact, that is what has happened with shows today--the recent insurance investigation of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, given claims that the questions are too easy and payouts too large, brings this movie back to mind as the 'anything for ratings' mentality still thrives.

A glimpse into a more innocent time that wasn't so innocent after all, this movie works on multiple layers. Now, as I'd like to be on a show myself, does anyone have that Millionaire telephone number?