Quick Read
- Michael Shannon stars in Netflix’s ‘Death by Lightning’ as President James Garfield, portraying empathy and complexity amid political violence.
- In ‘Nuremberg,’ Shannon plays Justice Robert Jackson, confronting the psychological realities of evil during the Nazi trials.
- Shannon emphasizes the importance of empathy and psychological nuance in both roles, refusing simple hero-villain binaries.
- Both works have received critical acclaim for their human-centric storytelling and contemporary relevance.
- Shannon describes America’s current state as a ‘nightmare,’ urging audiences to reflect on history’s uncomfortable lessons.
Michael Shannon’s Double Spotlight: A Year of Historic Reckoning
There are years in an actor’s career that feel like a crossroads. For Michael Shannon, 2025 is that kind of year. He’s found himself at the center of two projects that, on the surface, couldn’t be more different: a Netflix miniseries about the assassination of a US president, and a feature film diving deep into the moral ambiguities of the Nuremberg trials. Yet together, they paint a portrait of Shannon not just as a gifted performer, but as an artist unafraid of uncomfortable truths.
Death by Lightning: Leading with Empathy in Political Turmoil
In Netflix’s Death by Lightning, Shannon steps into the shoes of James Garfield, America’s 20th president. Garfield’s presidency was brief—cut short by the bullets of Charles Guiteau, a desperate office seeker. The series, based on Candice Millard’s book Destiny of the Republic, brings together Shannon and Matthew Macfadyen (as Guiteau) in a drama that’s as much about character as it is about historical events.
Shannon’s approach to Garfield isn’t about glorifying power. In his own words, he sees the presidency as “an act of servitude, not control.” The actor immersed himself in research, poring over biographies, personal letters, and Garfield’s speeches. “When you’re acting out a historical story, you’re experiencing it in so much detail,” Shannon told Netflix Tudum. “You’re trying to inhabit it and understand what it was like in a very sensory way. I wish that’s how history was taught.”
What stands out in Shannon’s portrayal is Garfield’s compassion and curiosity. “America was a real mess when he became president,” Shannon reflects. “But I really think, had he lived on, he would’ve done it because he understood that being a president is about public service.” In a series often preoccupied with political violence and corruption, Shannon’s Garfield is the embodiment of empathy—an antidote to cynicism and self-interest.
His chemistry with co-star Betty Gilpin, who plays First Lady Lucretia Garfield, is another highlight. Gilpin’s commitment to research and her insistence on depicting Lucretia as a true partner, not a sidelined spouse, gave the show’s central relationship unusual depth. Shannon credits their improvisation and Gilpin’s insight for bringing authenticity to their scenes, noting that Garfield “would never do anything without running it past her first.”
Yet for all its focus on decency, Death by Lightning doesn’t shy from the chaos of the era. Critics have praised the series for its “gripping” narrative and “remarkably human” ensemble, as reported by Collider and AOL. The brief window of Garfield’s presidency becomes a mirror for confusion, missed opportunities, and echoes of today’s political climate.
Nuremberg: Facing Humanity’s Darkest Chapters
If Death by Lightning is a lesson in empathy, Nuremberg is a confrontation with evil. In James Vanderbilt’s film, Shannon plays Robert Jackson, the US Supreme Court justice who prosecuted Nazi leaders at the Nuremberg trials. It’s a role that demands both moral clarity and emotional stamina.
The film draws on Jack El-Hai’s book The Nazi and the Psychiatrist, exploring the unsettling charisma of Hermann Göring (played by Russell Crowe) and the psychological toll on those who confronted him. Shannon found himself opposite Crowe, whose magnetic performance blurred the lines between villain and family man. “Russell really took the note about Göring being a charming man,” Shannon told The Guardian. “We are suckers for this charm. It’s going to be our downfall, it seems. We’d rather be entertained than taken care of. It’s tragic, really.”
One of the film’s most harrowing moments comes when documentary footage of concentration camps is screened during the trial. Shannon describes feeling “very uncomfortable” as cameras rolled, resisting the notion of ‘acting’ in the face of real horror. “I didn’t want the camera on me. Something about it seemed kind of profane, and yet I understand why it is in the film.” Director Vanderbilt insisted the cast not preview the footage, seeking raw, unfiltered reactions. “We had a moment of silence, then rolled the film. You’re seeing a lot of real emotions in those faces.”
For Shannon, the relevance of Nuremberg is immediate and unsettling. “America is a nightmare right now,” he states bluntly. “The country is mentally ill. There seem to be delusions of grandeur and self-loathing in equal measure. It gets grimmer every day.” The film’s echoes of contemporary fascism—lines like Göring’s “made us feel German again”—are impossible to ignore. Shannon doesn’t mince words: “The danger exists outside of this movie. The danger is all around us.”
Artistry, Collaboration, and the Weight of History
Across both projects, Shannon’s work is marked by a deep respect for craft and collaboration. In Death by Lightning, he describes the set as a reunion of old friends from the Chicago theater scene, and praises director Matt Ross for his “devotion and research.” Ross’s background as an actor created an atmosphere of trust, where performers felt safe to experiment and “try things, and some things don’t work, and that’s as it should be.”
Similarly, in Nuremberg, the challenge of balancing entertainment and moral responsibility loomed large. Shannon recognizes the paradox of making a film about atrocities that is also meant to engage audiences. “It ought to be mandatory viewing,” he says, but also acknowledges the strangeness of creating “a piece of entertainment about such a serious subject.”
What ties these roles together is Shannon’s refusal to offer easy answers. Whether inhabiting a president or a prosecutor, he steers clear of hero worship and simple villainy. He’s most interested in psychology—the forces that drive people toward greatness or destruction, the fragile boundaries between ambition and obsession, empathy and indifference.
The Resonance of History in Modern Times
Both Death by Lightning and Nuremberg confront viewers with the ways history repeats itself. Political violence, corruption, and the allure of demagogues are not relics of the past. Shannon’s performances ask us to look for the human stories beneath headlines and textbooks, to question the systems that breed chaos and cruelty.
As critics note, Shannon’s work this year is “gripping,” “superb,” and “anchored by an incredible ensemble.” But more than that, it’s a call to reckon with our own era’s confusion and madness. The discomfort Shannon expresses on screen—and off—is a reminder that facing the darkest chapters of history is never easy, but always necessary.
Michael Shannon’s 2025 output isn’t just about revisiting the past—it’s a challenge to audiences to confront the uncomfortable truths shaping our present. By refusing to soften the edges or shy away from complexity, Shannon’s performances illuminate the fragile line between empathy and danger, and remind us that history’s lessons are only as powerful as our willingness to heed them.