I recently watched “Nothing but the Truth” and found it to be engaging because of how rooted it is in its time, even as the issues it treats are much more broadly relevant. At its heart is the freedom of the press versus the federal government’s powers of coercion in ostensible national security matters. Womanhood and especially motherhood are also important to the story, with mainstream gender norms employed to help viewers relate to (or feel no sympathy for) the woman who the government attempts to coerce. The film is a work of fiction, but its author, Rod Lurie, draws on real events for its initial premise.

During the movie’s first ten or twenty minutes, I got nostalgic vibes because there is a news-making national newspaper in DC that hasn’t been corrupted by a billionaire, a newspaper whose print distribution still matters. There is an FBI that follows the law, and reporters who think that officials lying is newsworthy, even if short attention spans run counter to this belief. The DC location, regardless of where it was actually filmed, was also familiar because of the occasional overlap between work life and home life, even if the filmmakers restricted that overlap to the two main women characters, a journalist and an outed spy.

As the film went on, I was reminded of how out-of-control the federal government can get when pursuing an administration’s aims because the judiciary typically defers to the executive branch on national security matters. The movie shows the U.S. government trying to coerce a reporter to give up her source: it jails her for contempt during a grand jury investigation. Her loss of liberty lasts for nearly a year before there is even a court decision on the specific issues involved. Images of the reporter being transported in leg chains still resonate today. The CIA adds an additional low by threatening its own outed agent, reminding her about her upcoming custody hearing.

Since the journalist and the outed spy are both moms, the film connects the two on a personal level by situating their daughters in the same school. The women both volunteer in the school, but don’t know each other personally in the beginning, although the journalist knows the other woman’s child because of her particular volunteer duties. (If any fathers volunteer, it doesn’t come up.) Why is motherhood relevant to the plot? The jailed and then imprisoned journalist pays a high personal cost, being unable to see her young son and probably losing her husband. At the same time, this personal cost can be interpreted by some viewers as her putting a principle ahead of her duty as a mother.

At the very end of the movie, we see that the journalist’s initial unintentional source (before she began her actual reporting) had been her son’s classmate, the daughter of the outed CIA agent. This makes her principled stand for freedom of the press also about protecting a child. Perhaps, for some people, this lets her off the hook for leaving her own son without a mother for so long. Unfortunately, it also almost overshadows the constitutional issues behind her refusal to be coerced by the U.S. government. Or is that the point? Is this another example of the personal manifesting as political?