 A film in three minutes. Good night and good luck. Your name is Edward R. Murrow. You're a distinguished reporter with a career the envy of all of your contemporaries. The star host of an award-winning show watched by millions of Americans every week. But something is rotten in this land of Jefferson. A sinister paranoia has been creeping slowly into every office, bar and bedroom throughout the country. Creating a palpable fear that compels you to speak up and risk everything you've achieved in George Clooney's 2005 historical drama Good Night and Good Luck. A powerful morality tale about the dangers of demagoguery and the importance of a free press, the lessons of which appear only more relevant for today's post-truth times. Set during the Second Red Scare, the story follows the before-mentioned Murrow played by David Strathen. The illustrious host of CBS's documentary program See It Now, who undertakes an investigation into the case of one Milo Radulovic, a U.S. Air Force reserve lieutenant who was stripped of his commission after his father and sister were accused of being communist sympathizers. Suspecting the charges stem from a fear of communism promulgated by the rabble-rousing junior senator from Wisconsin, one Joseph R. McCarthy, Murrow and his team of newsmen begin to publicly challenge the credibility of the politician on air, igniting a war of words that will bring Murrow into direct conflict with the executives of CBS and their sponsors at a time when a single accusation from an authority figure could destroy a person's reputation. From a visual standpoint alone, Good Night and Good Luck's gorgeous black and white cinematography pays loving tribute to the look and feel of television from the period, with the use of corporate sponsor commercials and real-life celebrity interviews intercut with scenes from the story's world, adding true believability to the film's almost documentary-style presentation. This use of black and white also acts as a clever visual metaphor for the morally challenged world, Murrow and crew inhabit, a world where the political and ethical complexities that such a fearful time espoused can be artistically expressed in a simple struggle of truth versus lies, fear versus reason, right versus wrong. But what makes this historical dramatization truly absorbing is the Oscar-nominated performance from Strafern, delivering the reporter's now-famous anti-McAfee broadcasts verbatim with pitch-perfect gravity and care. So, magnetic as he and the role, that's when Strafern is cut with footage of the real-life McCarthy, footage that test audiences believed was an actor overplaying his role, you forget the performance, and instead become captivated by the raw power of his words, words which would contribute greatly in turning McCarthyism into McCarthy-wasm, and provide a legacy so relevant for today's world that there sadly is no irony in still saying good night and good luck.