After slaying undead Confederate soldiers in “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter,” our 16th president tackles an even scarier task in Steven Spielberg’s ambitious, often ponderous and Oscar-mongering “Lincoln” — pushing the 13th Amendment through the House of Representatives.
It’s a must-see for Daniel Day-Lewis’ charismatic, subtly shaded performance as Lincoln — and an even richer one by Tommy Lee Jones — but a colleague of mine at The Post has a point in describing the film derived from Tony Kushner’s wonky script as “C-SPAN with whiskers.’’
Actual depiction of the Civil War is pretty much limited to a single gory battle scene at the opening, followed by a corny sequence where Lincoln chats with some young soldiers. They include a black recruit who demands equal pay in dialogue that hardly seems to fit the time period and whites reciting the Gettsyburg Address like they’re quoting lines from their favorite movie.
Then Abe gets down to the business.
Lincoln’s Cabinet is dubious about his chances of getting the 13th Amendment through the House, but the president — who has already freed the slaves as a wartime measure in the Emancipation Proclamation — orders them to get it passed before the end of the bloody four-year war. The film begins in January 1865, three months before the Confederacy’s surrender, which was shortly followed by his assassination.
Urged on by his boss, perpetually exasperated Secretary of State William Seward (David Strathairn) reluctantly sends out a trio of scalawags — wonderfully played by James Spader, Tim Blake Nelson and a curiously under-utilized John Hawkes — to try and buy the votes of lame-duck Democratic congressmen with patronage jobs and folders of cash.
It’s up to Lincoln himself to hold together his own, badly divided Republican Party, even if that means hiding peace feelers from the Confederacy from the conservative wing.
At the same time, the “radical” Republicans, led by cantankerous abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens (Jones), oppose the amendment because they want the South to pay reparations to the former slaves.
I must confess my eyeballs began glazing over during the exposition-laden first hour, which introduces an army of characters played by what seems like half the over-40 membership of the Screen Actors Guild — most prominently Hal Holbrook, Jared Harris, Jackie Earle Haley, Michael Stuhlbarg and Bruce McGill.
Fortunately, Spielberg picks up the pace as the vote nears, though there are relatively few of his trademark visual flourishes (not entirely a bad thing after the overwhelming artifice of “The War Horse’’). At times, the director seems over-awed with his subject — or maybe he’s visited the animatronic Lincoln at Disneyland a few too many times.
The only significant female role — the African-American characters, male and female, are, unfortunately, pretty much relegated to grateful spectators — is Sally Field’s overwrought Mary Todd Lincoln, who frets that history will remember her a madwoman.
Disconsolate after the death of one son in the White House, she harangues the president not to indulge their firstborn’s ardent desire for military service.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Robert Lincoln in what seems like the sole concession to the youth audience, but his part is small and awkwardly written.
Gulliver McGrath fares better as young Tad Lincoln, whom the president repeatedly dotes on — and who’s the focus of Spielberg’s rather eccentric depiction of the assassination.
Adopting an odd, high-pitched voice, Day-Lewis thoroughly inhabits the part of a war-weary president who’s fond of telling long and folksy autobiographical stories (“I could write shorter speeches, but I get too lazy to stop’’). Demonstrating a hitherto unsuspected gift for humor, Day-Lewis has a particularly lovely, middle-of-the-night scene with a pair of military telegraph operators.
It’s the kind of towering, iconic performance that wins Oscars (Day-Lewis, honored for “My Left Foot’’ and “There Will Be Blood,’’ could become the first-ever winner of three Best Actor trophies).
In some ways, though, the film’s real heart and conscience is old Thaddeus Stevens — who must wrestle with reconciling his deeply held beliefs on equality with the need for compromise that will lead to more politically palatable gradual change.
With a scene-stealing performance by Tommy Lee Jones as Stevens that ultimately left me in tears, this is the most satisfying and stirring part of “Lincoln.’’