Sidney Lumet’s Network is a masterpiece of social satire. The film tells the story of a declining television network that stumbles upon success when one of their anchors goes crazy on the air. The network executives exploit his deepening madness in order to boost ratings.

Like Lumet’s previous film, Dog Day AfternoonNetwork draws on real-world events as inspiration. In Dog Day Afternoon, that event is a bank robbery that goes awry. Much of that film’s events are based on the story of John Wojtowicz and Salvatore Naturile. Network also parodies real life – Mary Ann Gifford, the kidnapped heiress involved in a bank robbery with the Ecumenical Liberation Army is reminiscent of Patty Hearst and her involvement with the Symbionese Liberation Army (Hearst is even mentioned in the film). The on-air death of Howard Beale at the end of the film may have been inspired by the then-recent death of Christine Chubbuck, who committed suicide during a live television broadcast (Christine Chubbuck, 2012).

Part of the focus of Dog Day Afternoon is the ensuing media circus that results from the bank robbery. Network, on the other hand, is one prolonged media circus. It is even more critical of media and its effect on society. Part of Network’s success is owed to the growing disillusion felt by the public towards the media. The New Hollywood had already depicted mistrust towards the military (M*A*S*H), the law (Chinatown and In the Heat of the Night) and the American Dream (EasRider and Midnight Cowboy). By the middle of the 1970s, the public had become as cynical about the media as it was about the government (Cook, 2000, p. 201).
Criticisms are lobbied towards the media in the types of programs ran by the UBS network, the material discussed, and the portrayal of the characters running the network. In the opening scene, Max Schumacher responds to his friend Howard Beale’s idea of committing suicide on the air by suggesting they make a series out of it – “Suicide of the Week” or “Execution of the Week.” Schumacher’s comments are in jest (revealed by his level-headedness throughout the rest of the film), but they reveal the public’s interest in the abnormal and the growing obsession with violence.

While Max Schumacher may be relatively sensible, Diana Christensen is not. The project she spends the majority of the film developing and producing centers on the fictionalized portrayal of real-life acts of terrorism (which are being secretly financed by the network). The media’s interest in violence is usually voyeuristic and passive. But in this situation, the filmmakers have given the media an active role in pursuing violence. By deliberately causing violence and terrorism in order to create a hit show, the network is condemned in the eyes of the audience.

A scene in which Diana listens to several pitches for possible television series reveals just how alike much of the material on television is. Characters always seem to be “crusty, but benign” or “brilliant, but beautiful” and the scenarios are annoyingly repetitive (law show, cop show, etc.). This is certainly proof of how television (like Hollywood, and virtually every other business) latches onto something popular and successful and repeats it ad infinitum.

On several occasions the power of the media is equated with the power of religion. Some of the comments are trite – “This tube is the gospel, the ultimate revelation,” but others have more depth and truth to them. When Howard is visited by a voice late one night that tells him to let the people know the truth, he asks the voice, “Why me?” The voice responds (according to Howard), “Because you’re on television, dummy! You have 40 million Americans listening to you.” Of course this is true; there is a reliance on television for news and entertainment and it captivates us. And those appearing on television do have a certain amount of authority and reverence in the eyes of the audience – just look at how popular “gym tan laundry” and “Tebow-ing” have become.

Diana Christensen, portrayed by Faye Dunaway, is one of the most delusional characters in Network. Faye Dunaway was already a veteran of the New Hollywood, playing major roles in important films like Bonnie and Clyde and Chinatown. Although she is not the most important character or the main character, her name is billed first. She was a well-known and popular actress at the time, so her name was used to market the film. Even a film criticizing media practices is a slave to them in its own way. She also receives star treatment within the film – she is continually shot in soft focus and with soft lighting. These choices give her an angelic, glowing quality and make her beauty even more radiant. As a character, these aesthetic choices create an irony: Diana Christensen is shot like a compassionate protagonist when in reality she is selfish and uncaring.

Irony is an important element in a satire, and Network makes use of it on more than one level. There is the irony of expectation vs. reality in regards to the character of Diana Christensen, but there are also ironic self-references as well. Being self-reflexive was a major aspect of the French New Wave, one of the movements that influenced the New Hollywood. In a scene in which Schumacher and Christensen argue over the future of Howard Beale and his show (Max wants his friend examined, Diana wants to keep exploiting his insanity), Schumacher says, “My God I’m supposed to be the romantic, you’re supposed to be the hard-bitten realist.” Max’s comments are in reference to stereotypes frequently featured in television and movies. Playing with these stereotypes is just one of the ways that Network uses parody and satire intelligently.

The film gets even cuter in the last act as Max and Diana are again arguing. Following an emotional outburst from Max, Diana snidely replies, “Terrific, Max! Terrific! Maybe you can start a whole new career as an actor!” It’s nothing quite so obvious as breaking the fourth wall, but the remark still points out the performance aspect of the scene, reminding the audience that they are watching a movie.

When Howard Beale tells his audience, “We deal in illusions, man!” he is talking about television and how it distorts reality. But a question I immediately raised as this scene unfolded was, “What makes this movie any different? It’s an illusion too.” This is true, but there is a big difference that clarifies the situation. The use of satire and parody in Network make the illusion evident and encourages the audience to indulge in the illusion. The danger of media is the subtle illusions; the shows and movies that tell us that the guy always gets the girl and the good guys always win. Network is over the top in all the right ways, making its illusion transparent; and an important film to the New Hollywood.

Works Cited

Christine Chubbuck. (2012, April 29). Wikipedia. Retrieved May 19, 2012 from
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_Chubbuck

Cook, David A. (2000). Lost Illusions: American Cinema in the Shadow of Watergate and Vietnam, 1970-1979. New York: C. Scribner.




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    I’m a 22-year-old student of film studies and advertising. My passion is to be a writer in one or both of those fields. This site is an outlet for all the stuff I’ve done that’s kind of cool or interesting.

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