Time for a film devoted to Mary Todd Lincoln
“MARY TODD’s ambition was colossal. She had from early childhood said she expected to marry a man who would someday be president of the United States, and she seemed to have a prophetic vision that this would be realized. But what was there in Mr. Lincoln to encourage such ambition and expectation? Apparently nothing!”
Such was the opinion of one of the contemporaries of Abraham Lincoln and his often-maligned wife, Mary.
Because the state of current American politics is in such disarray — not that it has ever been tidy — I’ve been attempting to comfort myself with ennobling history. Sidney Blumenthal’s “A SelfMade Man: The Political Life of Abraham Lincoln,” for example. As always the 16th president is an endlessly fascinating, complex subject.
But in this book, I found the portrait drawn of his intelligent, “highstrung” wife, Mary, equally intriguing. Mary, of the legendarily lavish spending and notorious short temper, was — as Blumenthal points out — the most intelligent woman Lincoln had ever courted. (His previous adventures in romance had ended badly; one rejection appeared to have nearly driven him to a breakdown.)
But Mary Todd, of a distinguished family, saw something in the rough-hewn, often melancholy Lincoln that other women — and even men who admired him — did not. Her own often acerbic, always on-target, frequently expressed views on politics and issues of the day, intrigued other men, offended some women and eventually captured Lincoln. (He jilted her once, but she bided her time.)
Another source of the era commented: “His wife made him president. She had the fire — will and ambition. Lincoln’s talent and his wife’s ambition did the deed.” And a close friend of the president, Joshua Speed, also remarked: “If he had married another woman … Lincoln would have been a devoted husband and a very domestic man. Lincoln needed driving.”
Thinking of Mary in this light, it occurred to me that there has never been a motion picture in which she was the focus. Mary generally pops up as the vastly irritating, halfmad creature who gave Lincoln so much trouble. But she was clearly more than a thorn in his side to be ministered to, a
“Cat without a Cause,” as one detractor claimed. They married for love, and shared an intelligent passion for politics.
I think it’s time for Mary to get her due. Let’s put her in the forefront, for once.
I know Sally Fields’ performance in 2012’s “Lincoln” is considered the most dignified and sympathetic portrayal of Mary. But I have to admit, I found Steven Spielberg’s film less than riveting, overall, and that includes the Oscarwinning performance of Daniel Day-Lewis. It’s been some years, but I think I recall the 1988 TV miniseries based on Gore Vidal’s great book, as the superior effort.
OK, writers, producers, directors — let’s redress the sins of representing Mary as the crazy lady who drove poor Abe to distraction. He was no bundle of laughs himself. Her own movie, her own life — so brimming with triumph and tragedy
— her own powerful childhood ambition: “Someday I will be married to the president of the United States.” She made it happen.
HBO’s “The Deuce” continues along at a brilliantly acted, but languidly lurid, slowburn pace. A lot happens, but unfolding with a tightly wound tension that is hypnotic to watch. Every performance and story line seems to meld seamlessly into the whole, and the ’70s New York City vibe is astonishing in its realism. James Franco has never done anything better, and Maggie Gyllenhaal — wow! I’ve heard some complaints that the show “doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.” I disagree. It is going somewhere, but it is taking its sordid, neonlit time. Where else have you got to be on Sunday night?