The other night I watched a movie that had missed my screen for many years. With all the movies that get served up and dangled in front of me for consideration through Prime, Netflix, AppleTV, Peacock, Paramount and MAX, I am very surprised that this one has never been pitched to me or perhaps just got overlooked by me. It stars Al Pacino and John Cusack, two actors I would always want to watch. It was the 1996 production of City Hall, about how the Mayor of New York (Pacino) and his loyal Deputy Mayor (Cusack) handle a complicated shooting incident in the outerborough of Brooklyn. One never knows whether to attribute greatness to the writers, the director or the actors (sometimes, I suppose all three), but there were some meaningful sentiments and lines in the film that caught my attention. The pivotal scene at the end is between the two men and happens in the Mayor’s office. It is a moment of truth between two skilled politicians, generationally apart, who have learned how to manage, and sometimes manipulate, the unmanageable processes of governance and leadership. The scene struck me as having a great deal of truth to it in that both men’s guard was down since, to the outside world, the crisis had been resolved. But these men both knew that what was being digested by the public was only half the truth. There is no attempt to hide from the reality that Pacino had made a phone call that changed everything, taking an unremarkable bet (as he had to do many, many times in his political life), in order to maintain the fragile alliance that was one of many such alliances that allows a politician to go forth and do the job that needs to be done. The viewer is challenged, oh so subtly, to determine if the end justified the means in good pragmatic form, or if the only path to righteous success is one that is 100% true.
There is an old Latin credo that comes from Plutarch and suggests that in politics, one must be “as pure as Caesar’s wife”, and therefore above any suspicion. In City Hall, neither Pacino nor Cusack have a wife, but the Brooklyn Borough President, played by Danny Aeillo does have a wife and there is a scene where she knows he is in political trouble, but tries to just soothe him by making him his favorite Osso Buco. I believe (and I know I am probably alone on this limb) that Caesar’s wife may have the appearance of piety and be devoid of suspicion, but that, in reality, she is complicit for the same reason that she cannot be compelled to testify against her husband in court. This notion didn’t become formalized until Medieval English law established the doctrine of “spousal incompetency”, originated during a time when married women had very limited legal rights and were considered essentially the same legal entity as their husbands under the concept of “coverture.” This made self-incrimination from a spouse a sound and logical conclusion. And, or course, there was always the desire to preserve marital harmony, so the courts believed that forcing spouses to testify against each other would damage marriages, which have always been considered foundational to social order. I’m guessing that was in Plutarch’s head as well, and is clearly a crafting of social order for the benefit of perceived greater good.
Mafia wives, politician’s wives and even executive’s wives have an extraordinary burden in this day and age. We are not in medieval England any more and despite what you may think of American misogyny (we have denied electoral success to at least two female presidential candidates), it is much harder to suggest that the crimes of the husband (or wife, for that matter), are not the business of the spouse. Part of equal rights, as flawed as that reality may be, is that being partnered with someone in business or life or both means that you are at very least an accessory after the fact because willful ignorance is just too suspect in this day and age. Danny Akella’s wife is presumed to carry on her widow’s life after Danny blows his brains out on the Belt Parkway under the Verrazzano Bridge, but there is simply no way she can be presumed innocent of his overall and regular abuse of power.
The poignant question being asked of Al Pacino by a combination of the circumstances he finds himself in and the presence of John Cusack as the deus ex machina of his soul, is why he has pursued political success at the highest levels (his plan had been to go from Mayor of NYC to Governor of NY to President of the United States). The reality being posed by the circumstances is that the very nature of the politician’s job has imbedded in it the seeds of the politician’s very downfall and failure. You cannot be a successful politician without making compromises and yet these compromises imbed themselves in the ground like land mines around you and increasingly make the path impossible to navigate.
The subject of term limits for politicians is a very frequently raised concept. In theory it is to keep things fresh and to prevent slippage into autocracy and cronyism. Much less noteworthy is the reality that politicians at the highest levels often spring up out of seemingly nowhere and unexpectedly secure top positions with little direct experience. I learned early on that in politics, not only is it true that absence makes the heart grow fonder (note Nixon and Trump both regaining power after being cast out) and the more common out of sight, out of mind of Adlai Stevenson, Barry Goldwater, George McGovern, Michael Dukakis, Al Gore, John Kerry and others, but also, familiarity can easily breed contempt. I once ran for office in my fraternity after having served in the thankless role of steward for the prior year. I was beaten by a quiet guy who was virtually unknown and who spent his tenure doing….absolutely nothing. While I may have simply been unpopular, I also suspect he was a new penny that appealed to everyone simply for his shininess. Presidents like Clinton and Obama and even Trump 1.0 could be accused of benefiting from the same new penny advantage.
Back in City Hall, what Pacino says about his rise to power was that he was willing to be lucky. I think what he meant was that he understood the huge element of luck that factors into politics and he was willing to grab for the brass ring where others were more tentative. But the same luck that gave him the opportunity also left him exposed to a fall from grace. I am conflicted by that because while I do see luck as playing a large role in attaining success, I am less inclined to feel that luck is the leading factor in being sustainably successful. I have seen one large university president hold his post for 17 years when the average tenure is far shorter and yet it would be hard to find anyone who would say a bad word about the man. Is that just good luck? I think not. I believe that willing to be lucky can get you the job, but being devoted to high standards of ethics and honor are what eliminate luck from the equation of sustainable success. If you are willing to be lucky, you have to then be willing to be high integrity and let the chips fall where they may.