The Insider - a film about truth and disillusionment

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Please note: This article may spoil your spontaneous enjoyment of the film. A number of significant events are revealed, so if you want to watch the film without preconceptions, we advise you to read the article afterwards.

Michael Mann's film The Insider from 1999 is a dramatized version of real-life events. A senior executive in the American tobacco industry gets in touch with the CBS television programme 60 Minutes after losing his job. Despite being threatened and then publicly disgraced, he gives a revealing interview, which CBS initially dare not broadcast. Eventually, however, the interview is shown.

The end titles of the film explain that the revelations played a large part in subsequent agreements between various American states and “Big Tobacco”, which paid out many millions of dollars in compensation for health damage caused by tobacco.

What the "insider" of the film's title revealed was that the tobacco industry had manipulated the content of cigarettes to increase their addictive effect, and that industry chiefs had lied about this in congressional hearings. Not exactly a sensational revelation, perhaps, but one that had major consequences for an industry that had used its massive resources to silence most attempts at critical examination.

Recurring theme
The theme is a recurring one in American cinema: an individual who stands up and speaks the truth, in defiance of the powers that be. However, this is not another feel good movie about the power of truth. The situation is complicated - in the film as in real life - because CBS is threatened with a lawsuit and therefore reluctant to broadcast the revealing interview. This betrayal of media ethics leads the journalist behind the interview to resign.

So what is this? A homage to those who have the courage to stand up for their beliefs and uncompromisingly seek out the truth, or a portrayal of how "the system" offers freedom of expression only so long as it means nothing, while freezing out those who are not willing to play by the rules.

Magnificent acting performances
Lowell Bergman (brilliantly played by Al Pacino) is the 60 Minutes producer who, at great risk, arranges contacts with sources—at the opening of the film, a Palestinian leader branded a terrorist. The plot is all about uncompromising determination to get vital information out.

The film's second protagonist, Jeffrey Wigand (likewise magnificently played by Russell Crowe), is introduced to the audience as he leaves his office at a big tobacco company after being dismissed (on the grounds of "poor communication skills"). Bergman gets in touch with Wigand and begins working on him to come forward with sensitive information.

After various twists, Wigand agrees to be interviewed. At the same time, the pressure on him and his family escalates. He receives threats and is subjected to a hate campaign. Eventually his wife (intensely portrayed by Diane Venora) seeks a divorce when she cannot stand the situation anymore.

Credibility questioned
A court hearing gives Wigand the chance to speak up, in spite of the undertaking of confidentiality he has had to give the company. This gives CBS an opportunity to broadcast the interview already recorded. It then becomes clear that there may be adverse financial consequences for CBS if the interview is shown. As a result of the smear campaign, Wigand's credibility is called into question. CBS management wants to edit the interview.

Bergman's closest work colleague, Don Hewitt (the famous 60 Minutes interviewer; a not entirely flattering portrayal by Christopher Plummer, showing a perfect ear for the smooth talker’s nuances of tone) sides with the company. Bergman, a former radical print journalist and pupil of the legendary Marxist philosopher Herbert Marcuse, finds himself alone in placing the truth ahead of economic interests.

Bergman's fight for honest journalism is seen as naive (“In the real world there are other considerations”). Bergman eventually succeeds in getting CBS to broadcast the interview, but, as he tells Hewitt, "What got broken here doesn’t go back together again." He resigns, leaves the office and walks out into the cold.

Depressive tone
The film has a depressive tone. The themes sense of freedom and the chance of a new beginning which are often expressed in classic American cinema are absent here.

Dante Spinotti's camerawork captures the shut-in feeling behind the expanses of glass, the handheld camera gives a sense of documentary and despite the widescreen format the close-ups create an intimate and sometimes claustrophobic atmosphere.

Instead of the promising prairies we have a variety of "non-places": freeways, gap sites, hotel rooms, airports - impersonal places where people are just passing through (in a spatial, professional or emotional sense) on their way from an absent beginning to an uncertain future. The constant ringing of mobile phones emphasizes people's loneliness amid all the frenetic communication activity.

Monitoring and manipulation
The world evoked is a controlled and abstract one. In the scene where Jeffrey Wigand, possibly under surveillance, is hitting golf balls on a nocturnal driving range, we get a creeping sense of a shadowy organization led by unidentified powers that be, a world in which our dealings with others consist of monitoring and manipulation.

The truth is too economically sensitive to be left in the hands of radical journalists, and profit is the obvious motive behind the manipulation of both public opinion and addictive substances.

Life events, support and personality: A close reading of The Insider from a depression perspective

Almost every time Jeffrey Wigand is on screen, the audience has reason to wonder, what really is wrong with him. The film depicts him as mentally disturbed in some way as well as a victim of persecution - or as a combination of both. With his bad temper, awkward body language, nervous fingers, averted gaze and staccato manner of speaking, Wigand negotiates his way through a series of stresses.

He drinks too much and is no master of the art of interpersonal communication. In one scene he sits in a hotel room drinking alone and unshaven. He may be hallucinating, and he fails to respond when spoken to. Given what we know about him, it is easy to conclude that what we are looking at is a truly serious depressive condition.

Let us now review the information provided by the film in just over two hours (in which three years elapse), in order to see what conclusions we can make regarding Wigand's psychiatric condition.

Symptoms

Wigand is without a doubt feeling down, though this is coloured by constant irritability. We know little regarding sleep disturbance and his daily rhythm and his appetite does not seem particularly low. Feelings of guilt? Jeffrey Wigand broods a lot on what he has put his family through. Thoughts of suicide? Not expressed. A paranoid state of alert is indicated on several occasions, although it is not made completely clear to what extent he really is being persecuted. He is possibly experiencing hallucination.

Wigand's drinking may be linked to tension and anxiety. He is clearly tense. Concentration difficulties? Difficult to say - according to his former boss Wigand's ability to concentrate is spooky. Any deterioration may be hard to notice.

His distractibility is difficult to judge. Wigand seems to be enjoying himself among the pupils at the school where he has taken a job. This is why it sometimes seems like an atypical depression which is also often characterized by sensitivity to rejection. That probably applies in Wigand's case. The symptoms seem to be present for a year or so. As in clinical reality, there are some symptoms in the movie that clearly suggest depression and others that do not.

Aetiology?

We know nothing about heredity or any earlier episodes of depression. Somatogenic? Hardly. Alcohol abuse may be both a contributing factor to and a consequence of depression. There is an excess of external pressure like losing his job, financial worries, divorce, external threats, public disgrace. This is not diagnostics, but it scores highly on the scale of life events. It is well proven that life events and aggravating circumstances may contribute to the onset of depression.

We should allow ourselves to consider facts such as these. Even though people suffering from depression may not themselves attach any great importance to one event or another, it is important to examine the "objective" load. The evaluation of stress in relation to one’s own shortcomings, for instance, is heavily influenced by a depressive self-image.

Personality factors

Personality factors affect how depression manifests itself. Wigand makes it clear that he is not a person who lets himself be browbeaten. His aggressiveness is close to the surface, which is somewhat atypical and may complicate the diagnosis of depression. In many respects, he is a capable and competent person. Experience shows that people with a strong ego may hide or mask depressive symptoms by continuing to function and behave pleasantly. Wigand's communication skills have obvious deficits.

In one scene, his wife comes down to him in the cellar to say that she can't stand it any longer. She wants to talk about their marriage - he wants to postpone the conversation. This is understandable, given the pressure he is under, but it is hardly a good way of responding to his wife. Nor will it improve his chances of receiving support and assistance from those closest to him.

His boss describes Wigand as a man who speaks his mind, even when he should not. Such behaviour does not make it any easier to form friendships. In a treatment situation, access to support in one's immediate environment is an important factor. Information of this kind significantly affects the planning of other support measures.

Ingenious father
In one scene, Wigand tells Bergman, with tangible warmth, that his father is the most ingenious man he had ever known. In the same scene Wigand also talks about another of his role models - a company boss who was honest and courageous enough to recall a product suspected of being a dangerous.

This says something about Wigand’s morale and the guiding principles he is following. On two occasions in the film he is satisfied—in both cases, when he has let his morals determine his actions in situations involving difficult choices.

Awareness of such personality traits can be used as a guiding factor in order to be supportive during antidepressive treatment.

Student of human nature
As a student of human nature, Bergman intuitively knows how (in his role at least) to handle a person like Jeffrey Wigand: appeal to his ego ("You're important to a lot of people") and if that does not work give him an order ("Get to the fucking phone!").

Can complicate assessment

One thing that can complicate an assessment of depression is if one is searching for symptoms whether or not one finds it "conceivable" that the person concerned feels ill. No matter if the condition may seem conceivable one should evaluate symptoms independently. This is just as important as being able to show a reasonable degree of human empathy when receiving a patient.

Unconscious refusal of pathology

"Who are these people?" asks Hewitt when he and Bergman fail to bring off a dinner with Mr & Mrs Wigand before recording the interview. "Ordinary people under extraordinary pressure," replies Bergman.

That may be the case, but in clinical practice it is vital not to end up with this sort of "kind" attitude, of more or less unconscious refusal to regard something as pathological.

Father theme

"I still do the tough stories. 60 Minutes reaches a lot of people," replies Bergman when Wigand asks how he a former radical journalist ended up at CBS. Lowell Bergman is loyal and devoted: he succeeds in the impossible. His background is different from Wigand's. His father cheated on the family and left them when he was very young. Marcuse, his mentor, became a substitute father (American cinema is obsessed with the father theme!). At CBS Don Hewitt is a kind of father figure.

When eventually Hewitt too betrays him, and Bergman is left alone, his self-reckoning is merciless: "From my perspective, what’s been going on and what I’ve been doing is ridiculous."

Self-loathing

Too late in life, Bergman is faced with the disillusionment that Marcuse should have prepared him for and that Wigand taunts him with at one of their meetings: "You believe that, because when you get information out to people, something happens."

Bergman ends up in a state of self-loathing: everything he has done is a half-measure. He is a bad person in a bad world. Sure enough, the press is free - to anyone who can buy it. "You won," his wife tells him when the interview is broadcast after all. "Yeah," he says, "what did I win?" What got broken here does not go back together again.

Shared disillusionment

The film ends in disillusion - a disillusion shared by us, the audience. Jeffrey Wigand is a person we follow and observe, almost clinically. Lowell Bergman is not only Wigand's guide in the film; he is our guide as well. After all, at the opening of the film the point-of-view is his. And what do we see? The inside of an eye bandage. We see what the powers that be allow us to see. Bergman is the one we identify with which is how it should be when we watch a movie. In this way, we can have an experience, be touched.

It is when we have to assess and treat people with mental problems that we should avoid getting into that position, from which we are capable of neither evaluating the symptoms nor identifying what can be done to help.