Good Night, and Good Luck: A Cautionary Tale on Censorship
Elizabeth Walen ’28
On May 14th, a collective of ninth graders had a rare opportunity to attend the Broadway performance of Good Night, and Good Luck, the stage debut written and performed by George Clooney and Grant Heslov. Adapted from the critically acclaimed 2005 movie of the same name, the play depicts the real-life clash between Edward R. Murrow, an American broadcast journalist and war correspondent, and Senator Joseph McCarthy at the height of America’s Red Scare. This production goes far beyond a simple retelling of the past, delivering an urgent call to action through its portrayal of the anxiety that the Cold War America thrust upon Americans in the early 1950s, striking into them a fear of communism that infiltrated every aspect of daily life.
At the heart of this story is Edward R. Murrow, a principled newsman at CBS who uses his national platform to call out Senator McCarthy’s dangerous and fear-inducing tactics. The play places us directly inside the smoky CBS newsroom, brought vividly to life through a compelling mix of live projections, period-specific broadcast equipment, and pungent cigarette smoke.
Every piece of dialogue in this play conveys urgency, including Murrow’s famous sign-off: “Good night, and good luck.” Once a routine closing, this line became a defiant statement of integrity in the face of fear-driven politics. This was not just a tribute to Murrow’s bravery, but a statement on the cost of courage and the risks journalists must take when truth has become inconvenient to the powers that be. Clooney and Heslov did not just want the audience to admire Murrow, but also to induce similar action within the viewer
Good Night, and Good Luck’s startling relevance makes it far more than a reenactment of the past. The last sequence of the play involved a sequence of flashing clips from decades of news reports, ending on a startling scene of Elon Musk doing the nazi salute.The parallels between McCarthy’s era of the Red Scare and ours are undeniable. Just as McCarthy exploited fear to consolidate power and suppress opposition, today’s leaders have used media manipulation, censorship, and disinformation to polarize the public and erode trust in the press.
In The McCarthy era, it wasn’t that the government was trying to censor people opposed to McCarthy’s ideals, but it systematically made it seem unethical. During this time, some believed that Murrow’s opposition to McCarthy was the same as him being a member of the communist party. The CBS news channel was worried that these rumors would put off sponsors, or would associate others working for CBS with the communist party.
Murrow’s belief that journalism is an emblem of public trust, not a commercial product or political tool, proves radical to this day. His insistence on honest reporting, regardless of consequences, is a timely reminder that the truth does not always come with applause, often forcing the frontman to stand alone. Clooney makes us reconsider what we ask of journalists, what we demand of our media, and what kind of public we want to be: passive consumers of information or active participants in the democratic process.
At a time when books are being banned from classrooms, political leaders are seeking to silence critics, and the truth is becoming increasingly treated as negotiable, this performance becomes more than entertainment. As our generation grows in a digital age shaped by trends, targeted content, and algorithmic bias, it's easy to become desensitized to the idea of truth as something fixed or essential. Good Night, and Good Luck disrupts that complacency. It teaches that journalism is not about ratings or engagement for profits, but serving the public interest and the truth. The truth, no matter how uncomfortable, is always worth defending.