Unwieldy Documentary A Compassionate Spy Finds Humanity in the Bomb’s Shadow

The pile-up of anxieties that is Christopher Nolan’s inspired biopic Oppenheimer crushes its subject under the weight of so many sins, that details which merit stories of their own simply become pebbles adding to the fission bomb’s boulder. One such detail is that of Klaus Fuchs, a German physicist who passed atomic secrets to the Soviet Union while working on the Manhattan Project. His actions—emblematic of a debate between left-leaning Los Alamos scientists wary of an American nuclear monopoly and a U.S. government eager to flex that superiority—feed into concerns about J. Robert Oppenheimer’s capabilities as a leader, his political views, and the mitigation efforts made by those that invented armageddon. The establishment of the “balance of terror,” where superpowers maintain a relative peace through mutually assured destruction, is just one more body blow to a staggering man, filled with regrets. But Fuchs wasn’t alone in hastening that bitter balance. Ted Hall, the youngest physicist working in Los Alamos, also leaked secrets to the Soviets. He just got away with it. Steve James’ thin documentary A Compassionate Spy touches on his evasion of the FBI but, much like Oppenheimer, is more concerned with the emotional aftermath of a world-altering choice.
A Compassionate Spy is not a thrilling recollection of treason. It has little to say about the actual espionage that Hall pulled off when he was an 18-year-old Harvard grad working on the Manhattan Project. It’s far more focused, refreshingly at first, on telling a domestic story, one of happiness forged despite the best efforts of the U.S. government, told by Hall’s widow, Joan. Joan met Hall at the University of Chicago after he returned from Los Alamos (and after he’d already shared the design of the Fat Man bomb with the Soviet Union, unknowingly corroborating fellow physicist-spy Fuchs). He told her his secret the same day he asked her to marry him. A Compassionate Spy, therefore, becomes less a story of spycraft and science, and more an autobiography of a marriage entwined with leftist politics and a constant defiance of America’s nuclear plans.
Despite its sensational premise, James’ documentary can be quiet, sweet and as eloquent as its main source of information, Joan. She’s clear-eyed and sharp, discussing her dedication to progressive politics and reciting her own poems about her husband’s death. Her recollections about keeping Hall’s secret are never as riveting as they are warm, simply indicative of two people who shared a love partially founded on ideals that their country deemed criminal.
But A Compassionate Spy can also be overly enamored with its charming subjects, listening to repetitive anecdotes with rapt attention and giving the most dull details (driving down a lane and thinking quietly) dramatic reenactments. These romanticized scenes, mostly set in James’ recognizable home base of Chicago, are boring in conception and ridiculous in execution. Stiffly acted with laughably broad dialogue and lit like a glowing, sketch-troupe version of Old Hollywood, these silly sepia memories seem present only to extend the doc’s 100-minute runtime.