Filmmaker James Schamus takes on a highly complex Philip Roth novel
Indignation is a warning wrapped in a coming-of-age tale.
The word means strong displeasure at the unjust, a righteous sort of anger, and the kind that is often celebrated today by the social justice warriors who rant behind their keyboards at the ills of an uncouth, barbaric society.
The indignant are most often driven by emotional responses, seeking to tear down the walls of whatever popular injustice drifts across their newsfeed, not understanding the nuance of the issue or the gray area it occupies. They shout about emails, rail about the Constitution, defend the rights of whatever downtrodden group deserves it this week, shaming any that might disagree with their inordinate correctness with bile or exhausting logic, then move on to the next topic.
They are often youthful, sometimes ignorant, and sometimes correct. Still, indignation doesn’t lead to productive discourse, as anger in any form closes important lines of communication and damages relationships. It is a release, a way to lash out at the world in the name of belief.
I have been indignant many times in the past and will likely be so many times in the future—I can only hope that I learn to channel it where it belongs. Indignation, a film based on the Phillip Roth novel, shows the consequences of righteous anger when the stakes are high.
Marcus Messner (Logan Lerman) is the son of a kosher butcher from Newark, New Jersey. The year is 1951 and many young men Marcus’s age are being drafted to fight in the Korean War. The story begins at the funeral of one young man who lost his life at the end of a bayonet.
As Marcus gives his condolences to the young man’s mother, she warns him not to get involved with the war. His father tells her that Marcus as is going to college in Ohio and as a result is allowed a deferment. The bereaved woman wonders aloud how he will keep kosher. At home, Marcus’s family worries about his transition to a more adult work. His father, in particular, has trouble adjusting to the idea that his son will be on his own.
Marcus moves to Winesburg College, a small school that requires all students to attend chapel in order to graduate, and moves in with his Jewish roommates. Marcus is appalled at having to attend chapel—not because of his heritage, but because he is an atheist.
At first, the young man focuses on his school work and his job at the library, rejecting offers to join the Jewish fraternity and generally keeping to himself. But as time moves forward, he attracts the attentions of Miss Olivia Hutton (Sarah Gadon), a gentile beauty who awakens him to the world of sexuality.
Olivia is a former alcoholic and survivor of a suicide attempt and very unlike the women he knew from home. His relationship with Olivia causes strife with his roommates and when he abruptly moves out of his room he draws the eye of Dean Cauldwell, the dean of men at Winesburg. During their meeting, Marcus forcefully argues against the chapel requirement, citing Bertram Russell and his essay “Why I Am Not a Christian.” As the conflicts escalate, the consequences of Marcus’s choices become clear.
Indignation is a cleverly crafted period piece, one that captures the heart of the Roth novel and the themes presented therein. It is beautifully shot and exquisitely cast. The film is peculiarly funny, considering the seriousness of the topics and the potential tragedies facing the characters.
Director James Schamus has a steady hand and a solid grasp of the story he is trying to tell—the Roth novel is complex and layered, making adaption a challenge. Lerman and Gadon have an understated chemistry, one selling a wide-eyed fascination behind intellectual curiosity while the other breathing a quiet, damaged confidence. Their relationship works to tell a story rooted in the American traditions of religious idealism and moral certainty.
Indignation warns its viewers of the dangers of righteous anger: simply being correct does little to protect a person against institutions. Marcus’s complaints were certainly justified, his arguments sound and well stated, and served to do nothing but attract the attentions of exactly the wrong person. Viewed from a certain perspective, there’s nothing wrong with keeping your head down. Self-righteousness is narcissism and narcissism never furthers a cause, no matter how noble.
Indignation puts these ideas into perspective with singular clarity.