‘W.’ film review

Director Oliver Stone (Platoon, JFK, Natural Born Killers) takes a look at one of the most controversial and universally disliked men in modern history, George W. Bush.

Cast

Josh Brolin
Elizabeth Banks
James Cromwell
Ellen Burstyn
Richard Dreyfuss
Toby Jones
Thandie Newton

Director

Oliver Stone

Plot

Oliver Stone asks how a man who struggled all his life with his personal demons transformed himself from reprobate and well-known black sheep of his esteemed family into Leader of the Free World? ‘W.’ follows his journey from Yale frat house to Texas oilfield to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, revealing the man who would become the 43rd President of the United States – his struggles, his achievements and the consequences of both.

Verdict

A disappointing effort from Stone who is renowned for his fearlessly tenacious treatment of controversial subjects, ‘W.’ is a safe, feel-good look at the most powerful man in the world, who has been the symbol of American hegemony and arrogance for slightly under a decade. It is unabashedly sympathetic, with little to no examination of his policies as President. It is however a compelling look at the private side of Bush, especially his relationships with his wife, mother, brother and especially his father, George Bush Sr, and for that, Stone must be applauded.

Review

‘W.’ (pronounced Dub-ya) is Oliver Stone’s third shot at directing a movie that is based on a 20th century American President, after ‘JFK’ (1991) and ‘Nixon’ (1995). Stone attempts to paint a picture of George W. Bush that “we have not seen before”, as he believes that Bush’s images have been managed carefully by his team. These are Stone’s own words, and we must judge ‘W.’ according to the criteria set by himself.

In this, I believe ‘W.’ both succeeds and fails in equal measure. In ‘W.’, Bush Jr. is portrayed (wonderfully, by Josh Brolin) as a down-to-earth, honest, good ol’ Southern boy, with all the charm and hotheadedness of that particular strata of American society. He don’t set too much store by eddi-cation, but he’s a keen outdoorsman, more at home on the golf course than in the boardroom; an avid baseball fan, but a less than capable policy-maker; a natural politician with a knack for the common touch, but naïve and unversed in matters of the state. A proud Texan, ‘God Bless America’, a born-again Christian and reformed alcoholic – ladies and gentlemen, George W. Bush.

The problem is we know all this already. We all know that Bush is a straight cudgel, but not the sharpest of rapiers – he shoots from the hip and pulls no punches, which is what endears him to a certain part of the American population (roughly 50.7% in the 2004 election), and elicits groans, howls of laughter and raised eyebrows of disbelief from the rest of the world. He ain’t too smart, not like his pappy, but gosh dang if he don’t tell it like it is. ‘W.’ shows us the man behind the Man, but they’re one and the same, to the eyes of the knowledgable audience.

Where ‘W.’ succeeds is illuminating the often fraught relationship between father and son, and tying it (albeit tenuously) to Bush’s approach to the 2003 Iraq invasion. The once wayward son is shown first as a disappointment to his illustrious father and the rest of the Bush clan, but turns his life around – after giving up alcohol and finding God – to first assist Bush Sr. on the 1988 presidential campaign trail, then to make him proud by becoming Governor of Texas, and finally to challenge him in the annals of history by succeeding where his father had failed, which was to neutralise Saddam Hussein.

This tense but compelling slice of human drama cannot fail to captivate, as Bush Sr. (played with great sensitivity and strength by the ever dependable James Cromwell) dukes out the battle of generations with his son. With the wonderful chemistry between the two actors, this is the best part of ‘W.’

So too are Bush’s relationships with his wife Laura (Elizabeth Banks) and mother Barbara (Ellen Burstyn). Laura is credited with turning Bush’s life around, and Banks gives the character a steadiness and steeliness that even Brolin, the actor, must have come to rely upon while shooting. Burstyn, while having relatively few lines, turns in a hilarious performance as Bush’s mother who still harbours doubts about her son’s ability, but will support him fully at crunch time.

If Stone had left it as a pure character study revolving around familial relations, ‘W.’ would have been an interesting watch, as Bush is humanised and treated sympathetically, as are most of Stone’s protagonists (Ron Kovic, Nixon, Mickey and Mallory Knox, Jim Garrison, Sgt. Elias).

It is when delving into Bush’s politics and government that the film starts to suffer from an uneasy schizophrenia. Admittedly the focus is on Bush the man, and Stone sets out to do so (and succeeds). However, the bits of Bush’s politics that are offered in ‘W.’ are unsatisfactory – and the most one gleans from the movie is that he has very little actual say in foreign policy and government. It is here that ‘W.’ moves along to the second set of characters, that of Bush’s Cabinet, or ‘Inner Circle’.

The ‘Inner Circle’ performances vary along the board. It is a stellar cast: Scott Glenn (Donald Rumsfeld), Toby Jones (Karl Rove), Thandie Newton (Condoleeza Rice), Jeffrey Wright (Colin Powell), Richard Dreyfuss (Dick Cheney), Bruce McGill (George Tenet). Glenn and Dreyfuss have been around the block enough times for us to expect nothing less than superb performances, Glenn as the warmongering Secretary of Defence, and Dreyfuss as the equally hawkish Vice President.

Jones is suitably oily as the obsequious mandarin Rove, he is the very definition of “power behind the throne”; McGill is a flustered and uncertain Director of the CIA. Wright was disappointing as the commanding Colin Powell, lacking the gravitas and military bearing of the former Secretary of State.

But the Razzie must surely go to Newton as Condi Rice – in their anxiety to obtain maximum verisimilitude, they forgot to give Newton any good lines; in her anxiety to mimic Rice completely, she forgot how to act. Her performance was utterly forced, entirely wooden even behind the scenes. In ‘W.’ Rice was a nodding accomplice most of the time, but Newton’s constipated rictus, complete with teeth-clenched grimace, surely provokes one to wish that she had heeded the advice to go before she came. It was a brave effort at mimicry, but a thoroughly bad portrayal of a confident, strong (if conniving) woman making it big in the male-dominated world of politics.

This film therefore suffers from two major problems before filming had even begun. One would have been to satisfy the audience’s expectations to find the balance between accuracy in faithfully telling an interesting story, and portraying the characters without descending into caricature – bearing in mind that the characters are living and still fresh in the consciousness of the audience. In this respect, ‘W.’ enjoys limited success. Brolin will undoubtedly receive an Oscar nomination as Bush Jr., a playful, lovable, goofy, awkward yet charming president, son, husband and father. On the other end of the spectrum, there is Newton…

A second problem would be to satisfy members of the audience who are familiar with Stone’s body of work. ‘W.’ lacks the edginess, danger, and controversy of any of the other Stone films (other than the appallingly kitsch ‘Any Given Sunday’ [1999]). Stone built his reputation on controversy, by tackling subjects no other director would touch. In ‘Platoon’ (1986) he touched on the horrors of the Vietnam War perpetrated by the Americans themselves (see My Lai). In ‘Natural Born Killers’ (1994), he questioned the American fascination with and glorification of violence. In ‘JFK’ (1991), he opened a huge debate into the Kennedy assassination that still rages on on conspiracy theory websites today. And in ‘Born on the Fourth of July’ (1989), he highlighted America’s treatment of its war veterans.

‘W.’ has none of that. In every Stone film, he has an agenda, an angle, something to say. In ‘W.’ he appears to have finally buckled down and declared some semblance of unbiased journalistic even-handedness. Sure, there’s still the blatant Stone manipulation of facts and events, it wouldn’t be a Stone film if there wasn’t. But his famously ham-handed treatment of his agenda is usually sussed out by the audience within five minutes, who can then sit back and enjoy Stone’s master storytelling. In ‘W.’, this directness is missing. Can it really be just a story about a man? It’s too simple, too safe, too un-Stone-like…

The film plods along with gentle humour – this is a Southern drawl instead of a Bronx patter. Very few of Bush’s policies are examined in depth, other than the Iraq war. Very few of the controversies surrounding him are examined, although they must have had an effect on the man; for example, the nature of his entry into the White House in 2000, or his passing of the Patriot Act. These are mentioned only in throwaway lines, unsatisfactory to the politically savvy. Guantanamo makes an appearance, but only as a goof-up by the tongue-twisted President. Is it asking too much of the film to treat these issues with the seriousness they deserve?

There is no doubt that this film could have been so much more. On its own terms, it succeeds in showing the personal side of a man vilified by much of the world for his John Wayne approach to world matters, a simplistic man who still sees things in New Testament black and white, a naïve leader, a jingoistic patriot who believes less in the world community than in America. In a sense, Stone has done more in humanising the president than Karl Rove or his entire circus of press corps and media relations people could ever have. And yet, to a Stone fan, or to anyone wishing to see more of Bush the leader, Bush the administrator, Bush the president, this film will remain incredibly unsatisfying, for so many reasons.

Review originally written for the Biography Channel, and can be found here.

~ by hanntu on November 15, 2008.