Mann’s brilliant corporate thriller ratchets up the pressure on both protagonist and audience, who are treated to a story told with extraordinary restraint by a director who is equally adept at framing the drama in his characters' heads as in court or a newsroom.
In a slick opening sequence we are introduced to Lowell Bergman (Pacino), producer of the prestigious '60 Minutes' news programme, as he negotiates an interview with a senior Hezzbollah Sheikh. Once an agreement is reached and he's left alone, Bergman pulls off his blindfold, walks to the window and surveys the Lebanese cityscape beneath him - Mann's camera stunningly capturing the bustling urban setting.
A short time later, Bergman meets with a skittish Jeffrey Wigand (Crowe) in a hotel room boasting a comparable view, this time of the metallic hues of downtown Louisville. Former head of research at Brown & Williamson Tobacco, Wigand agrees to the consultation work Bergman has for him but warns him that according to the terms of his severance package that's as far their discussions can go. It's a detail that he needn't have disclosed, and for that reason it piques Bergman's interest.
On the face of it, Wigand hardly seems like a man likely to risk his family’s well-being for the sake of blowing the whistle on his behemothic former employers. His daughter requires the medical insurance as yet still entitled to his family and such obligations trump all. Supporting one's family even if it means leaving-be the affairs of Tobacco executives who have perjured themselves in front of Congress, "what could be wrong with that?" Wigand asks Bergman when they meet again. Nothing, they agree.
But when Michael Gambon's CEO insists he sign a supplement to his confidentiality agreement ("the work we did here was confidential, not for public scrutiny, any more than are one's family matters") the implicit threat helps to illuminate another obligation running somewhere in parallel. As the unsettling threats escalate Wigand increasingly feels "compelled" to speak to '60 Minutes' despite the obvious strain on his family.
It is in its handling such complicated and at times intangible moral quandaries - the exact nature of which it commendably leaves largely unsaid - that The Insider succeeds so wonderfully. It is a film buoyed by the lofty ideals and compulsions of its characters, and yet still grounded by a dogged faithfulness to the intricacies of the story which often involve complex legal, bureaucratic and personal notions.
Director of photography Spinotti crafts moments that beautifully communicate abstract concepts, his cinematography seamlessly aligning itself with plot. In one glorious scene we watch Wigand make his decision; casting his gaze around the scores of police waiting to escort him to the crucial disposition, and then out to sea. So well defined are the film's themes that, following a transfixing sequence of imagery and sound, when he eventually realises "the criteria by which to decide", we realise it too.
Such moments are played up to just the right degree by Crowe, Pacino and Christopher Plummer, one of a number of supporting characters whose circumstances leave them unable or unwilling to follow the two men as far as they need to go. "I'm running out of heroes, man." says Bergman to Wigand, worried for his friend's deteriorating state of mind. As the stakes rise, others fall away and compromise for money, reputation, safety - as people do. The alluring ideals of the newsman and the wife are often too vulnerable to harsh, real-world considerations, and Plummer's performance as the face of Bergman's show depicts a reality complicated by all manner of internal worries and pressures.
Mann is a highly proficient filmmaker but The Insider is surely his best work. Ostensibly a bureaucratic thriller, it balances the procedural with the sublime, evoking moments of startling clarity in a messy, caustic world - helping us see through the smoke and the haze.
