What it is, though, is the most purely expressive workout of a theme Spielberg has tackled before, in Lincoln and the earlier Amistad: the moment when the misty-eyed principles of American democracy get measured against its laws and policies.
When Steven Spielberg rolls up his sleeves and digs into the past to make a serious historical film like Amistad or Lincoln, loaded adjectives like “old-fashioned,” “patriotic,” and “sober” tend to get tossed around.
His “Amistad” told the story of how John Quincy Adams’s successfully defended the slaves who had taken over a ship after killing most of its crew, a film that is marred by its failure to dramatize the abolitionist movement’s efforts on their behalf, a flaw of his “Lincoln” as well.
Unlike "Munich" or "Amistad," the new movie benefits from an ebullient script originally written by playwright Matt Charman and punched up by Joel and Ethan Coen.
If it's true that all films manipulate but we only complain when they do it poorly (and it's more true than not), then let me complain that Spielberg is an absolute visual savant--proof of it in the first ten, wordless minutes of Bridge of Spies (compare it to the wordless section of Amistad)--and an absolute pandering whore in his inability to deliver an ambiguous ending.
Spielberg relishes, too, Donovan’s shrewd lawyering, which links him to the more famous attorneys played by Anthony Hopkins and Daniel Day-Lewis in Amistad and Lincoln respectively.