To my mind, the best – and most authentic – illustration of how young political idealists become disillusioned by their political heroes is provided by George Stephanopoulos’s All Too Human – A Political Education, a convincing account of his journey through Bill Clinton’s first presidential campaign to power. There is a line that sums it up in George Clooney’s intelligent The Ides of March, which we watched this evening; ‘he’s a politician; he’s bound to disappoint you sooner or later.’ Ryan Gosling turns in a brilliant performance as the Stephanopoulos-type idealistic campaign warrior losing his illusions, but he is able to play to the foil of the equally brilliant Philip Seymour Hoffman as the grizzled campaign veteran who has long since realised that the only absolute virtue in politics is loyalty. Clooney cleverly directs, competently co-wrote the screenplay with Grant Heslov and Beau Willimon, author of the original stage play, Farragut North, and excellently acts the presidential hopeful, Governor Mike Morris. Full marks on all scores – at least for political anoraks like me. I think all budding politicians should watch this film before they launch themselves into the fray. Where are your lines in the sand and are you willing to move them? Where is your non-negotiable dividing line between idealism and realism? Can betrayal ever be morally right and, if so, under what circumstances? Maybe best to think about all of that before you start shinning up the greasy pole…

The last try but by no means the least!

This afternoon I eagerly watched the friendly rugby union match between Wales and Australia. There was a lot of pre-match hype because one of Wales’s favourite sons, Shane Williams, was winning his 87th and last cap for his nation. A rather nervy and drab first half saw the two teams at 6-3. A costly second-half sin-binning for Leigh Halfpenny led to a three-try bonanza for Australia, who went on to win the match by a comfortable 24 to 18 margin. Frustratingly, Shane Williams – the main reason I was watching – rarely sniffed the tryline throughout the match but then, in the 81st minute, into injury time, he scored a lovely try. It was a fairytale ending to a glittering and throughly entertaining career, as this link to ten of his tries graphically illustrates. His presence in a line-up always gave a thrill of anticipation. He will be missed on the international stage.

Sidney Lumet’s 1982 film, The Verdict, starring a masterly Paul Newman, is typically described as a ‘courtroom drama’ but, as with several of Newman’s best roles, it would be better, if more long-windedly, described as a discovery and affirmation of a man’s true self and inner moral being. Newman plays a washed-up, ambulance-chasing drunken lawyer, Frank Galvin, who is gifted a medical malpractice case where a readily-offered out-of-court settlement would at one fell sweep restore his legal reputation, set him up financially, free up the relatives of the victim of the malpractice and protect the good reputation of the surgeons involved. Something – a whim? an instinct? moral fibre? – prevents Galvin from accepting the offer and he opts instead for a battle against a well-paid team of lawyers and a biased judge. Notwithstanding the legal niceties, the jury heeds Galvin’s call to respect natural justice and finds in favour of his client, a young girl reduced to a vegetative state who can never be compensated. A strong cast (including James Mason and Charlotte Rampling) ensures convincing viewing, although the love interest is unsatisfactorily developed. The most telling phrase in the script for me was something along the lines of ‘A court does not guarantee justice but it provides the possibility for justice to be done.’ Perhaps that, in the end, is the flaw in this film. Experience would strongly suggest that, if they don’t necessarily win, corporate lawyers, with all the resources at their disposal, rarely lose – particularly not to drunken idealists.