STATE OF PLAY is ostensibly an action thriller about the unholy alliance between business, politics, and journalism. But what ends up being the most compelling aspect of the film is its overwhelming nostalgia for newspapers.

You remember newspapers, those prized organs of communication that once formed the bedrock of Truth, Justice, and the American way. There was a time in our not too distant past when giants of the earth, aka journalists, bestrode the planet, righting wrongs and keeping the world on its rightful track. In the climax of that 70’s classic of paranoia THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR, you just knew that if Robert Redford could only get his conspiracy story to the New York Times then all would be right with the world. And even more obviously, Woodward and Bernstein cracking the Watergate story in ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN. The film’s final close-up shots of the typewriter strokes (remember typewriters?) hitting the page were like the first shots fired in a revolution that eventually would bring down a presidency. The reporter as superhero. Ah, those were the days. And STATE OF PLAY hearkens back to that mythic time.

When the original British miniseries STATE OF PLAY arrived on the scene in 2003, the demise of newspapers was hardly the topic of conversation as it is today. The journalistic thrust of that show was a tabloid trying to gain respectability by doing some unexpectedly serious journalism. But by 2009, an undeniable sea-change had taken place in the world of journalism and this new Americanized version reflects that. With newspapers already shutting down in Seattle and Denver, and others making drastic cutbacks in staff and production in places like Detroit and Boston, newsprint is clearly on the ropes.

In STATE OF PLAY, Russell Crowe plays a crusty, hard-drinking veteran newspaper reporter (“grizzled” is the operative word here) at the fictional Washington Globe. He is in daily battle with his managing editor (played by Helen Mirren) who keeps reminding him that their new ownership expects to make a profit , so he needs to “get a move on.” Mirren’s seeming preference for her online bloggers rankles Crowe to no end. He complains that he’s been at the paper for 15 years and has a 16-year-old computer whereas a newbie blogger (Rachel McAdams) has been working there barely 15 minutes and she has a computer that could launch Russian satellites into orbit. Mirren snaps back that that blogger is not only young and eager but also cheap and fast, turning out copy hourly. And when Crowe mockingly agrees he’s old and overpaid and slow, Mirren nods her assent. Journalistic standards, be damned. We have a paper to produce!

This being Hollywood, of course, Crowe and McAdams team up together to help crack the case (of the murder of a politician’s mistress on the eve of a congressional investigation into the shady dealings of a Blackwater-like security outfit.) The fact that the narrative of STATE OF PLAY focusses on this potboiler of a case does not mean that’s all the movie cares about. Mirren herself even says at one heated point in the film, “The real story here is the death of the newspaper!” And the film has fun exploiting the natural tension between the old school reporter and his online colleague.

Unfortunately, the movie’s preference for “old school” is so pronounced, McAdams’ character comes off as impossibly naive. Even Mirren makes a crack at her expense, something about how nauseating she finds her cub reporter’s pleadingly dewy eyes. And when Crowe finally takes the wide-eyed blogger under his wing and begins teaching her the ropes of real journalism, McAdams initially can’t take the pressure. She actually breaks down, literally crying on his shoulder at one point. Journalism is so hard!

Journalism does in the end triumph. Like the heroes of yesteryear, Crowe bests the cops, the politicians, even his editor. And yes, McAdams contributes. She sort of ends up playing Robin to Crowe’s Batman. So maybe, just maybe, the worlds of shoe-leather journalism and online can work together. A brave new world, anyone?

In fact, for a moment there at the end, I thought the film might have a nice ironic trick up its sleeve. When Crowe is on the verge of breaking the story wide-open but can’t get Mirren’s permission to print without one more clinching piece of evidence, I was thinking Crowe might end up deciding to take advantage of the loosey-goosey rules of blogging and break the story that way. That would have been the ultimate journalism switcheroo. The movie doesn’t go there but Crowe does tip his hat to his online partner by putting her byline above his when the story finally does go public. A gracious and gentlemanly gesture from the last of the dinosaurs?