The film follows McCarthy from his start as a Wisconsin farmer through his Senate career. McCarthy wins local elections, serves in World War II, then runs for the Senate as a Republican. He's widely dismissed until he declares war on alleged Communists infiltrating the government. McCarthy becomes the spokesman for Red-baiters everywhere, beloved by constituents, feared by colleagues, exploited by the press. Eventually McCarthy's reckless charges bring him into conflict with the US Army, spurring his downfall.
Helmed by veteran TV director Jud Taylor, Tail Gunner Joe sticks to the dry, just-the-facts approach common to television biopics. Taylor and writer Lane Slate are resolutely anti-McCarthy, making him an empty suit who exploited a popular issue. The movie stresses McCarthy's bogus military exploits, his defense of Nazi war criminals and a violent confrontation with journalist Drew Pearson (Robert F. Simon). Fleeting efforts at humanizing McCarthy - chatting up constituents, romancing assistant Jean Kerr (Karen Carlson) - don't register.
Few except Ann Coulter defend McCarthy today; it's more objectionable that Tail Gunner Joe doesn't probe beyond the obvious. Taylor does present unflattering portraits of liberals: reporters inflate McCarthy's reputation in pursuit of a good story; young Bobby Kennedy (Sam Chew, Jr.) joins McCarthy's staff; even Harry Truman (Robert Symonds) fears him. Mostly though it's a simplistic portrait, blandly framed by a modern reporter (Heather Menzies-Urich) investigating McCarthy's legacy.
Peter Boyle does an excellent impersonation of McCarthy, overcoming a simplistic characterization through sheer will. Boyle's intense portrayal scored him an Emmy nomination. John Forsythe plays a cynical reporter who exploits McCarthy while detesting him; Burgess Meredith is Army counsel Joseph Welch, he of the caustic wit and epochal putdowns; George Wyner is a slimy Roy Cohn; Patricia Neal has a fiery cameo as Margaret Chase Smith.
Tail Gunner Joe is basically your average '70s television movie. Its reenactments pale next to the real thing, easily glimpsed in Emile de Antonio's Point of Order and elsewhere. Despite Boyle's efforts it's thoroughly pat, down to the trite cautionary epitaph.