Death by Lightning
Directed by Matt Ross
Netflix
Death by Lightning begins with a curious title card, calling America’s 20th president a man “the world forgot.” And to be fair, it’s mostly correct. James Garfield was neither the most consequential nor well-remembered Republican politician of the 19th century. He served as president only six months in 1881, accomplishing very little, and became another in a long string of politicians to define the Reconstruction era after the Civil War.
He’s mostly remembered as the second American president to be assassinated. But while President Lincoln’s death was a martyrdom that forever shaped our understanding of the Union, Garfield’s death was a farce caused by a madman with delusions of grandeur.
Charles J. Guiteau (Matthew Macfayden) is remembered by history as an impulsive fool. He was a failed journalist, a failed lawyer, a failed politician, and an exile from a sex cult that considered him too weird. His one skill was compulsive lying, and he wasn’t good at that either. And as the show rightly points out, he’s just a small player in a major game of political corruption that happens to become a footnote by way of his erratic actions. They have a big effect.
It is no surprise that historical material of this sort would fit into the wheelhouse of Game of Thrones producers David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. This largely forgotten period of American history gives them melodrama, moral ambiguity, and ambitious personalities to play with. The result is a remarkable work of drama with a dark thought on its mind: Is the American system too corrupt to be fixed?
From the show’s outset, James Garfield is revealed as nothing short of a deeply pious, sincere, and honest man. Played to perfection by the great Michael Shannon, this modest Ohio farmer finds himself ascended to the heights of Republican politics when a stump speech for another politician gets him declared the best man to go to Washington, which he doesn’t want.
As this is happening, Guiteau is running around the edges of Republican politics and attempting to use his minimal voice to stump for the future president with the hope of gaining an important role in the new administration—which he erroneously comes to believe he’s played a major role in electing.
The show makes great pains to contrast the personalities of Garfield and Guiteau, showing the president as reserved, calculated, noble and principled, while Guiteau is jittery and impulsive. He lies through every interaction and is always angling for power and money that he thinks are just around the corner.
Ultimately, the story’s true villain is Senator Roscoe Conkling (Shea Whigham), a New York machine politician who controls the customs house of New York’s port and who has built an empire controlling most of his state’s politicians. He’s powerful enough that Garfield’s appointed Vice President, Chester Arthur (Nick Offerman), is just one of Conkling’s stooges. He has the will and means to do anything from derailing appointees to corrupting the Republican Party’s entire progressive agenda, at the cost of America’s struggling Black population.
Garfield ends up being the only character in the proceedings who isn’t driven by power. While the story suggests he may have underlying desires for a legacy or a chance to make things better, it is obvious that he is a good man. He gives bad people second chances. He sacrifices his valuable time to listen to the common citizen. He owns up to failing his wife when it turns out his party wants him to run for president.
By contrast, Guiteau may not be a creature of the system like Conkling, but he is a fruit of it. He wants to be part of it, he’s sensitive to it, and he responds to the things it says. He takes it at face value and absorbs its lies. And so as Conkling goes to war with Garfield over power, Guiteau immediately swaps from sycophantic fanboy to a wannabe liberator who will do anything to save the republic. He rationalizes his personal sense of entitlement as a grand cosmic betrayal that must be set right.
It’s curious that a story such as Death by Lightning would drop at this moment of political unrest, corruption, and assassinations of political figures. This dramatic miniseries about 1880s history dares to ask what it means to be above the fray and whether it’s even worth trying to fight.
The show’s many stars have pointed out the strangeness of the correlations, considering that the show went into production amid the 2024 election. Actor Matthew Macfadyen told Screen Rant that it was “kind of surreal” and “quite alarming” to film a story about political assassinations amid the attempted murder of Donald Trump and the widely seen killing of Charlie Kirk.
“There was something eerie about how much the present day seemed to echo the story we were filming,” actress Laura Marcus told AnOther Magazine. “The divisive nature of [the 2024] election, the anxiety we all felt because of politics—these factors constantly reminded us of the importance of telling stories like this.”
In this moment of political stress and disillusionment, it’s easy to look at the tragic farce in a story like this and see ourselves. We all want to believe that we can vote our way out of corruption and cults of personality, and then we see the system produce ugly fruits and wonder if there’s anything that can be done to make things better.
The film offers catharsis in the character of Chester Arthur, showing a once idealistic lawyer and husband’s descent into despair, prostitution, and thuggish violence. Subsequently, he ascends from a New York City fixer with blood on his hands into the White House, and slowly comes to grapple with forgiveness that he knows he doesn’t deserve, showing that even a bad man may atone and make a difference.
If Death by Lightning shows anything, it’s that showing unrequited love and praying for one’s enemies is the surest way to make a difference, even if the world will try to kick and destroy you. After all, some Christians have wondered if St. Stephen could have been the one to greet St. Paul at the gate of heaven. It’s a scandalous thing to love and forgive. As above, so below.
Tyler Hummel is a freelance writer based in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.
