Edward R. Murrow's son was my classmate at a New England boarding school. He had an extra typewriter, and I had none, so I borrowed his little Olivetti portable --- which just happened to have been his father's. Was it the machine Ed Murrow used when he was traveling? I like to think so.
For a young writer-in-waiting to have a connection to Edward R. Murrow --- no matter how oblique --- is not a small thing. Murrow was the symbol of journalistic integrity when the word still meant "a firm adherence to a code of moral or artistic values." In his wartime dispatches for CBS radio, he had only to say "This...is London" and American listeners knew that whatever followed was as close to the truth as they were likely to hear. And he was as brave as he was talented --- he flew in twenty bombing missions over Berlin, and was one of the first correspondents to report from the Nazi concentration camps.
After the war, Murrow came home to find himself a star. Television loved him; he was tall, with slick hair, a hangdog handsome face, beautifully tailored suits and an omnipresent cigarette. He gave class to the new medium. He personified decency, and curiosity, and the idea of a democracy based on a well-informed public.
It was not so much his views as his persona that attracted enemies --- especially the mad alcoholic demagogue Sen. Joseph McCarthy. Their clash is told in the movie George Clooney has just written and directed about Murrow, using his signature sign-off as the title: Good Night, And Good Luck. It's the kind of movie that makes you want to know more about its subject --- but instead of sending you to a biography, I suggest you go directly to Murrow's work.
This set of DVDs is drawn from Murrow's best programs. The "live" broadcasts are breathtakingly primitive compared to TV's current slickness, which only makes them more interesting. "Harvest of Shame" --- a documentary about migrant workers --- would never be made now by a network; it's too damning, it lacks what we now call "objectivity." And, of course, in "The McCarthy Years," we see Murrow's great gift for storytelling; whenever possible, he uses McCarthy's own words.
Careers often end badly. Murrow was forced out of CBS. Four years later, lung cancer killed him. After his death --- when it was safe to praise him again --- he once again became the gold standard for reporters. Unsurprisingly, those who look up to him as a god seem to have very little interest in following his lead. So if you want to know what great TV journalism is like, you need to look back --- and a smart place to look is in these extraordinary DVDs.
--- Jesse Kornbluth, for HeadButler.com
To buy 'The Edward R. Murrow Collection' from Amazon.com, click here.
