Tennessee Johnson

Posted on the 14 June 2016 by Christopher Saunders

"Is it a crime to forgive? My enemies think so!"

To modern eyes, Andrew Johnson seems a poor candidate for a laudatory biopic. William Dieterle's Tennessee Johnson (1942) was controversial even then, boycotted by the NAACP and Hollywood liberals for lauding the President who helped cement Jim Crow in the South. Respectable filmmaking struggles to redeem Dieterle's toxic distortion of fact.
Andrew Johnson (Van Heflin) goes from illiterate Tennessee tailor to politician. He's the only Southern Senator to retain his seat during the Civil War, appointed Military Governor of Tennessee and Abraham Lincoln's running mate in 1864. Johnson becomes president after Lincoln's death; his lenient Reconstruction policies earn the wrath of Radical Republicans like Thaddeus Stevens (Lionel Barrymore). Stevens engineers Johnson's impeachment, forcing the President to defend himself.
Made during World War II, Tennessee Johnson stresses Johnson as self-made man and disciple of union. His wife Eliza (Ruth Hussey) teaches him to read using the Declaration of Independence. Later, Johnson turns Tennesseans against the local Sheriff, urging them to channel violence into votes. Even his drunken inaugural address seems part of his Just Folks sincerity. Johnson becomes a plebeian tribune, demolishing class restrictions on democracy.
Dieterle and writers John L. Balderston and Wells Root show Johnson's grit in resisting secession and defending Tennessee. The Civil War ended, he rushes to welcome Southerners back into the Union. His leniency contrasts with Stevens: far from the acrid antihero of Steven Spielberg's Lincoln, he's a vengeance-minded monster. Johnson reads a Lincoln letter to silence critics, styling himself the Great Emancipator's successor. This noble puffery elides the elephant in the room.
President Johnson's generosity to the South complemented his contempt for blacks: "This is a country for white men, and by God, as long as I am President, it shall be a government for white men." He rebuked Frederick Douglass's pleas to help freedmen, choosing instead to reinstate ex-Rebels in power. This begat Jim Crow, the Klan and a century of oppression. Tennessee Johnson claims that enfranchising blacks will only hurt them. Coming from Van Heflin, who could argue?
Admittedly, Johnson's impeachment reflects poorly on everyone. Republican Congressmen accused Johnson of conspiring in Lincoln's murder; when that didn't stick, they passed the Tenure of Office Act, blocking Johnson from firing Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Both sides used bribery, cajolery and even feminine wiles to influence the impeachment vote. It was all sordid and pointless anyway, as Johnson left office mere months after impeachment failed.
History offers enough chicanery, double-dealing and ambiguity for a gripping movie. Tennessee Johnson casts noble Andy battling bloody-minded Republicans (perhaps echoing FDR's problems with Congress?), culminating in an ahistorical speech to the Senate. More benign than Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind, it complements their portrayal of Reconstruction as Federal tyranny over helpless whites.
For those indifferent to historical accuracy, Tennessee Johnson is a fair drama. Dieterle's direction is effective, Balderston and Root's script literate and impactful. Van Heflin's fortitude makes a compelling hero, complemented by Ruth Hussey's sweet support and Lionel Barrymore's garrulous villainy. Presented this way, even John Tyler and Warren G. Harding could make splendid heroes.
Competently made and ably acted, Tennessee Johnson is a great example of Hollywood whitewashing. Perhaps one can enjoy it as a well-meaning civics lesson rather than a historical document. Then again, perhaps the filmmakers shouldn't have made America's most loathsome chief executive their hero.