First things first. Bravery. Relevance. Independence. These are watchwords for the best kind of journalism, and they are qualities sorely lacking in the majority of television, radio and print media. They were, however, very much on display in Edward Murrow’s stand against Senator Joseph McCarthy in the early 1950’s, and Good Night and Good Luck conveys that achievement clearly, even inspiringly.

Released in a time when fear is again used as a political instrument, when the news media is "embedded" within the very halls of power, when secrecy, attacks on civil liberties and black-and-white, us-versus-them mentality have again become de rigeur for a moralizing, ambitious administration, this movie was clearly intended more as a warning call about the current state of affairs than as a simple historical tale. Indeed, the framing excerpts from Murrow’s 1958 speech speak directly to the current (mis)use and irrelevance of current television news. Though McCarthy is censured by the Senate, he serves for another 2 ½ years, while Murrow is given a five-program parting package and sidelined. The intersection of advertisers, political pressures and pure cowardice are not easily overcome. In short, the message is that bravery, relevance and independence might shine a brief light in between ad breaks, but the hands that pull the curtain back down at the end of the hour are much too strong.

(In an interesting side-note, there are lots of not-so-subtle fingers pointed at the fact of Alcoa’s sponsorship of Murrow’s program. Given co-writer George Clooney’s interest in the Middle East, and the movie’s message about the pervasive and persistent hand of big business in the news media pot, reading a few things about Alcoa’s history and connections provides an interesting subtext to the main narrative.)

I understand Good Night and Good Luck was nominated for six Academy Awards, none of which it won. It should certainly have won two: first, for David Strathairn’s performance as Murrow (forceful, with a gravitational heft that could start a solar system of its own); second, for the editing. The mix of archival footage, old commercials, and quick (but perfectly timed) cuts from one complex sequence to the next kept the movie quick, relevant and to the point. It could have dragged (given the complexity of the issues at hand and the weight of its “important” ideas), but it clocked in at a riveting 93 minutes.

The use of black and white was interesting. Obviously, it was intended to capture the spirit of television at the time. However, the crispness of black and white photography was continually undercut by fuzzy images in the foreground, quick scans across a crowded room, and shots where the main “action” occurred off to one side of the frame. Similarly, important developments were often only hammered out after a sequence of loud, cross-talking, occasionally confusing dialogue. All of which was extremely effective: in a McCarthy-soaked environment of black-and-white, either-or, Commie-or-no dualism, the film itself evoked a very real sense of "grayness," of the fuzzy realities that counteract such quick moralizing clarity.

If, as I suspect, Clooney intended this movie to speak truth to current power, there is a minor disconnect in his long exposition of the dangers of avoiding dialogue. As Murrow says, we cannot fight for freedom abroad if we lose freedom at home, and in that sentiment we are in absolute agreement. But a part of that argument is that we should also be able to discuss with those who disagree with us – in this case, Communists – and believe in the battle of ideas as well as bombs.

However, those who disagree with "us" now – those who indiscriminately target innocent civilians to impose a theocratic, repressive, Middle Aged order on the open society of the modern West – cannot be reasoned with. Not in the form of rational dialogue. Anyone who has determined the salvation of the world is predicated on the annihilation of what he disagrees with is beyond the battlefield of ideas.

Still, this is a minor point of irrelevance for a movie that is, by and large, extremely relevant, well-paced and emotionally stirring. It is something like an All the President’s Men for the Bush era – reminding us of how we are conditioned in our view of the world through journalism, both in its rare moments of informing and illuminating and its much more common tendency to amuse us and isolate us from dispiriting thoughts.