I FINALLY SAW Robert Redford's new movie, "Quiz Show," dramatizing one of television's darkest periods - the calculated practice of giving contestants the answers to the questions before the show. It is allegedly based on one thin chapter of Richard Goodwin's 1988 memoir, "Remembering America."
In the movie, Rob Morrow portrays Goodwin (with an embarrassingly bad Boston accent) as a cross between Woodward, Bernstein and Columbo - a young congressional investigator who helped to expose the game show "Twenty-One," among others.Redford wanted to portray a morality play. As Goodwin says in the movie, "We thought we were getting television, but television got us." But it struck me that a story purporting to be true was filled with so many inaccuracies that in the end, Redford got us.
In short, the movie is almost as rigged as the quiz shows.
He exaggerates Goodwin's role for dramatic purposes, thus leaving out the most prominent participant of all - Judge Joseph Stone, who as an assistant district attorney investigated the quiz shows for nine months before Goodwin showed up on the scene.
Stone has publicly called the movie a "tawdry hoax."
Redford made Herbert Stempel into a classic nerd and made Charles Van Doren look too much the victim, who was trapped into dishonesty while on the air.
In fact, Van Doren agreed to everything before he ever appeared on "Twenty-One." In the film, Van Doren, whose portrayal by Ralph Fiennes is done with a wooden accent that sounds too much like his evil villain in "Schindler's List," isn't even married.
Redford blended the shows "Twenty-One" and "The 64,000 Question" into one. He portrayed the sealing of the grand jury proceedings as impossible to break, then pictured Goodwin going door-to-door looking for leads. In fact, Goodwin was given the grand jury documents immediately, then used them to build his case.
Even the simplest facts or statements were distorted in the movie. It was not Goodwin's wife, Sandra, who said it was vital to have Van Doren testify but U.S. Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter: "To the public Van Doren is the quiz shows. It would be like playing Hamlet without Hamlet."
I just finished reading Stone's book, "Prime Time and Misdemeanors: Investigating the 1950s TV Quiz Scandal," written with Tim Yohn and published in 1992. Not only is it much more complete and interesting than Goodwin's short account, but I suspect Redford and his staff also read it and used some of it. If so, they should have acknowledged it in the credits.
It's not only an engrossing account by an articulate insider, it puts a more expansive interpretation on the scandals. Stone thinks the most interesting development of all was the fact that so many contestants would lie to a grand jury.
"Dotto," a day-time show, triggered the investigations - after a young actor named Edward Hilgemeier spilled the beans to Stone, even before Herbert Stempel did. The investigations continued through "Tic Tac Dough," "Name That Tune," "The Big Payoff" and scores of others.
Stone's book makes it clear that the most deceptive person in all of the scandals was Van Doren, who fudged the truth even when he finally came forward and testified to the congressional committee.
All the other characters are equally interesting - with names like Henry Bloomgarden and Elfrida Van Nardroff. Most of them were intent on lying to investigators, and none of them ever approached Van Doren's celebrity status. But several of them won a lot of money - Van Nardroff twice as much as Van Doren.
Recently, Goodwin was quoted as saying that the quiz shows illustrated the power of television "to create heroes, from Charlie Van Doren right through to O.J. Simpson."
In his book, Goodwin recalled the unparalleled popularity of the quiz shows, and noted that British TV producers tried to copy the American success. After only a few weeks, they called New York and wanted to know "how do you find all those brilliant Americans?" The British contestants kept missing the questions.
Goodwin recounted how students at Columbia, where Van Doren taught English, put up signs directing visitors to "the smartest man in the world." He had become an American symbol of intellectual success.
Although Goodwin said he was easily convinced by the grand jury proceedings that the quiz shows were fraudulent, his first meeting with Van Doren disarmed him.
Goodwin said he was inclined to believe his resolute disavowal of wrong-doing but asked if others could have been given answers in advance. Yes, it was possible, said Van Doren, but the producers were such "decent, honest men. He couldn't believe they would do something like that."
He said that it wasn't the money that drove him, but what he was doing for the image of education.
"I'm the only person who reads poetry on television. I'm a teacher, you know, and now I can reach millions - all because of the quiz shows."
Goodwin thought about the substantial evidence he had seen. Yet, he wanted to believe Van Doren. "He was so forcefully sincere."
Yet the reason that Van Doren did not get away, said Goodwin, was "the consequence of his own self-destructive stupidity."
Goodwin told Van Doren he would not be called to testify before the congressional committee if he would just keep quiet. But Van Doren sent a public telegram to the committee avowing his innocence. Goodwin could do nothing else but call him to testify.
To avoid the subpoena, Van Doren escaped to New England to "enjoy the fall foliage," then reappeared and finally admitted wrongdoing: "I would give almost anything I have to reverse the course of my life in the last three years."
But not as fast as the movie would have us believe. They didn't even give the congressional panel any time to question him. In fact, there was a long and intensive questioning period following his opening statement.
The real statement was also longer and more dramatic than portrayed in the movie. Sounding like a self-serving politician, Van Doren insisted that even after he received the subpoena, he still didn't know what to do - until he received a letter from a stranger who told him the only way he could live with himself was admit what he had done.
"Suddenly, I knew she was right. And this way, which had seemed for so long the worst of all possible alternatives, suddenly became the only one. Whatever the personal consequences, and I knew they would be severe, this was the only way. In the morning I telephoned my attorney and told him my decision - he said `God bless you.' "
After the hearings, Van Doren wrote Goodwin a letter not mentioned in the movie, which would have made a superb climax: "Hunters used to say that the stag loved the hunter who killed it . . . thus the tears, which were tears of gratitude and affection. . . . Thus Gerry and I do extend an invitation to you to come and wish you would come. There are a number of things I'd like to talk to you about - none of them having to do with quiz shows."
Then he ended with, "you must never, in any way, feel any regret for your part in this."
Yet, said Goodwin, "I always have. A little."
I have regrets, too - that Redford would choose to distort a true story - one fascinating enough to stand on its own.