I saw Oliver Stone's "W." a week or two ago, and I almost forgot. Believe me, it felt even more worn out before the election. I kept thinking I'd seen it before in some other form. Not just as in every day for the last eight years, or as in some other slab of Stone. This one reminded me of Woody Allen's "Zelig" or Robert Zemeckis's "Forrest Gump" -- about a nobody who stumbles into history. Then I realized it was more like a reworking of Hal Ashby and Jerzy Kosinski's "Being There" -- the story of a vacancy.
That impression was magnified Tuesday night as I watched Barack step up to fill it. In that one solemn but hopeful election night speech in Grant Park he did more to steady, strengthen and solidify the union for tough times than I've seen any president do in my lifetime. It wasn't just a matter of commanding screen space or being ready for his close-up (although the camera loves him). But after so many years of looking at a skittish hamster-in-the-headlights, squinting or staring blankly into the lens, how dramatic it was to see somebody there at last -- a solid somebody with a firm sense of who he is, and what it means to lead and to strive and to inspire. No smugness, no self-congratulation, no condescension, no desperation. A grown-up. I felt an enormous sense of confidence and relief. And I didn't feel alone in feeling that.
Which brings me back to the hollowness of W. and "W."...
About a week and a century ago, Richard Dreyfuss, who is compellingly corrupt in an unrealistically small role as Mecha-Cheney in "W.," went on "The View" to tell the gals that he thought there was "a character missing from the film." He confessed he felt "W." was "six-eighths of a great film." Math questions aside, what did Dreyfuss mean? (He also said, "You should see my Hitler," and called Stone a "fascist," but tales to that effect from people who've worked with the latter, and watched his films, are banal.)
Here's what Dreyfuss said:
"The acting is terrific and I think a lot of the writing is good, but I don't really know why Oliver didn't come to a conclusion with it.... I think it's a very good and shockingly empathetic picture of Bush.... but it leaves out us, because we were all terrified of our own president and that terror is our reality. And that character is not in the film, so ... I question whether the film will have any historic legs."
First, for the sake of clarification,"we" weren't "all terrified of our own president." (You can read that several ways: The Decider Divider made sure that if you weren't with him on any given issue, you were against him, and he was not "your" president. And those who did consider him "theirs" sure weren't terrified of him. And "terrified" can encompass many feelings, from disgust to awe -- and in W.'s case the scales were not weighted toward the latter.)
While I think I have some idea of what Dreyfuss was getting at, and share his feeling that the movie will only diminish with time, I don't believe I agree with him in another respect. Both W. and Nixon (the subject of Stone's previous presidential biopic) were isolated figures, who drew the presidency around them like a cocoon, setting themselves apart from the electorate, the law, and the possibility of finding wisdom. (We'll assume that people who are open to it retain that possibility.) "We" are not there, because "we" weren't a consideration. Nobody with such disregard for veracity could feel beholden to an electorate, or acknowledge a reality beyond the tiny bubble of his limited awareness.
Stone seems to gets that W. is an impostor, a puny man who should never have been mistaken for a president, but doesn't know what to do with that idea. (Previously, before I'd seen "W.," I noted that the solidity of presence in Josh Brolin's eyes, even in the trailer, is more than I've ever detected in the real thing; turns out that image is from a nightmare -- a glimpse of repressed humiliation that the waking character can't admit even to himself. To do so would require a moral conscience beyond his capability.)
If "W." is an attempt to draft history, it's a shallow one -- despite, as Dreyfuss says, some fine character work by some of the actors, who don't have much to dig into. It's cartoony, but doesn't have the penetrating dimension of, say, an editorial cartoon because it doesn't have a point of view, much less a "shockingly empathetic" one. The closest it comes is to inadvertently suggest that the title character is not worth making a movie about. A movie about a vacuum needn't be one.
Agreed. It was disappointingly empty. One little additional complaint: I found the use of music distracting and weird. In so many scenes the soundtrack struck me as an oafish attempt at ironic commentary.
"The closest it comes is to inadvertently suggest that the title character is not worth making a movie about. A movie about a vacuum needn't be one."
But isn't that a point of view itself? I think, with Stone taking that approach, we end up sort of shrugging Bush off and putting him behind us. Maybe that's why he made it.
I haven't seen "W.," and honestly, at this point, I'm not sure when I ever will -- I'm looking forward far too much to seeing this man disappear from the American psyche.
And on that subject, surely all who are here have seen The Shawshank Redemption, yes? (And if you haven't, stop reading.) Well, remember that feeling of pure, righteous joy when Andy finally escaped from prison? When he crawled out of the filth-filled sewer, into the flooded gully, throwing off his shirt to feel the rain drops on his skin, as if for the first time in a long time he and his senses were alive once again?
Andy = the United States, Shawshank Prison = George W. Bush, and Zihuatanejo = Barack Obama. That's about the best analogy I could come up with to express what I felt on Tuesday night.
Andrew: I wondered about that, too. Imagine "W." as a preemptive strike, getting to the material first simply in order to make it less valuable for other filmmakers. ("Nah, it's been done already.") If that were the case, it would be just the kind of Rovian conspiracy Stone himself would love.
Oliver Stone's "W." was much admired by me, because although I agree it was a bit thin as far as other people besides Bush (As far as characterizations, Thandie Newton comes closest to an embodiment for me as Condoleeza Rice), I (like Roger Ebert) got caught up in the story. I got involved in the rise and beginnings of a fall of a bumbling moron with a capacity for the banality of evil who managed to worm his way (through nothing more than family legacy) into the White House. I didn't feel empathy or even sympathy for Bush so much as a greater understanding of a character based on a real person...Whether this is totally accurate or Stone's belief or completely fabricated I can't say, I just know that I enjoyed the ride...
Oh I'm sure Bush will turn up as a character in multiple films like Recount, the proposed adaptations of Against All Enemies and Fair Game, etc. but they will probably be rarely again from his point of view, hence the "we" element Dreyfuss mentioned.
The film is imperfect: it loses it's focus in the last quarter while depicting the war, but I don't think it can be entirely dismissed, due to the strength of Brolin's performance. What I think Stone and Brolin get very well is a sense of his self-conflict. On the one hand he just wants to get by, have the affection of those around him, and be where life isn't complicated, on the other he's frustrated at himself for not accomplishing more, thinks he's working as hard he can and everyone should get off his back.
Good to read an insightfully negative response; most of the "rotten" reviews just labeled it as undramatic and that was it. Still have to see it myself, both because it's Stone (with whom I've been extremely hit-or-miss over the years), and because Armond White went so far as to call it the "bravest act of American filmmaking since Steven Spielberg's 'Munich'". I've my problems with the man, but that's not praise to be taken lightly.
Jim, I think your point about Bush being isolated from "we" who were never even considered is right on the money.
But I couldn't disagree more with your conclusion. I'm not sure what else you wanted from the film in order to justify its existence. Profound revelations aside, I was simply pulled into the story and enjoyed it as an insightful character study. It works as entertainment and it also gives us an idea and feel of Dubya uncensored.
His presidency traumatized us and we want so badly to be angry with him. Many critics and audiences more or less wanted this film to burn him alive. But Stone is not angry. He is amused. And, like Bunuel, he is not bitter but cheerfully cynical. He's past the point of being concerned by this empty, oblivious child-at-heart who sees what he want to see.
And, after seeing the film, I am too.
After I saw The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, I remember thinking for a few days, "The movie was amusing. And what Bunuel observes, I feel, is true. But if these people are just gonna do what they're gonna do, what was the point then? " But I eventually realized, that is the point. And it makes for great entertainment. And it makes me worry less about what the Bourgeoisie are doing and focus more on what I'm doing with my own life.
And, with Dubya, there's one extra catch: I'm worried less about what Dubya did and focused more on what happens next with Barack Obama.
In other words, "W." is not the nail in the coffin for Bush. (The nail in the coffin came far before his reelection.) "W." is the eulogy. Stone is saying, "Well folks, he was an idiot. Just an idiot. But, man, was he just an idiot!"
Brief off topic comment Jim, but 9.5 inches of rain in Humptullips, wow. I hope you're luck with weather is better this year.
Karlos, now that you mention it I'm pretty sure the shot of Bush leading his cabinet down the road on his Texas ranch trying to find their way back to the car, is a reference to The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
Karlos, now that you mention it I'm pretty sure the shot of Bush leading his cabinet down the road on his Texas ranch trying to find their way back to the car, is a reference to The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
There was absolutely nothing shocking to me regarding the film's slightly sympathetic characterization of Bush (his transgressions were, by no means, rendered forgivable). But how can one not pity a man so hollow, misguided, and juvenile as Jr.? Had the film approached Bush as a one-dimensional buffoon, the note would have quickly worn thin. Stone sought to understand the psychology behind Bush, because we must remain inquisitive if we hope to learn from our enemies (yes, Bush is our enemy).
There was, however, nothing shocking present in W., which is why perhaps it will fade quickly into oblivion. The same will not be true of Bush himself--the damage he inflicted will linger for years and with it, I hope, his incompetent mug burned into our collective nightmares. And perhaps that's a good thing. Those who do not learn from history, after all, are doomed to be dead in it.
It could be that the reason people find "W." underwhelming is because Bush the person simply doesn't lend himself to dramatic storytelling, without any genuine moment of self-reflection. The pretzel incident isn't going to replace the thought of Nixon's long dark nights of the soul in our minds, much less in Oliver Stone's canon.
A comparison of how Roger Ebert reviewed "Nixon" and "W." is intriguing in how the former drove him to comparisions with no less than three Shakespeare protagonists (Hamlet, Macbeth and Lear), Charles Foster Kane, allusions to the Titanic, and finally concludes by quoting Aristotle how the listener to a tragic tale will "thrill with horror and melt with pity." By contrast, "W." at most inspired mention of the Oedipal complex and the Peter Principle. While his take on "Nixon" suggests a grudging sympathy for the epic fall of the doomed, he wraps up the "W." review by suggeting that Bush will never fully realize the ramifications of his actions and calls this his "saving grace."
That might explain why "Nixon" worked for Ebert as tragedy while "W." seemed to leave him shaking his head. Usually, a tragic character has to have a moment of epipheny where he recognizes, however briefly, the extent of his downfall. Films like "Nixon" and "Secret Honor" found room for that sort of take on Nixon's life, but I've heard little to suggest that Bush has experienced anything approximating it.
But instead of feeling like Jim did, that this raises the question of whether Bush is enough to stand as the center of a movie (though that's an understandable reaction), I think Stone was aware of this in creating the film and he made the right decision to not attempt to blow the man up into anything more than he is. I especially liked the final moments, in which Bush in that empty baseball field hears a ball being struck and holds out his glove, running back towards the fence, the whole time looking up, up, up . . . only for nothing to appear. And he just keeps looking in bewhilderment, trying to figure out what the hell happened.
Having said all that, I also felt the most sympathetic portrayal of anyone in the film was of Colin Powell who was invariably depicted as the sole voice of reason in the build-up to Iraq. The moment when the inner circle is watching the fall of Baghdad and he has to endure an insult from Cheney about how he could have been president is enough to suggest how an entire movie about Powell (or hell, the entire cabinet aside from Bush) could be more insightful on the Bush presidency than any film on the man himself. Maybe we'll get it someday.
There's another matter I want to bring up, and that's the question of what Stone's take on Bush's religious convictions is. The scenes of Bush finding religion are portrayed as sincere and a point is made of Bush having his advisers pray together at the end of their meetings (maybe intended as ironic given the nature of their discussions?), but no ultimate point is made, which is strange considering how religion and religious terminology appeared so central to the Bush administration. Or perhaps Stone was holding back; consider how at the very end of the closing credits we're shown a cross morphing into the "W." logo . . .
I should add that the other most sympathetic protrayal in "W." was of the elder Bush, shown with an awareness and gravitas missing from his son. Ebert mentioned the Oedipal complex in his review; considering how much emphasis the interactions between the two were given, maybe Stone was suggesting that if father and son had had a better relationship we might not be where we are today?
Jim, this is off topic so you don't have to publish it in the comments section. I just wanted to say... you must see Synecdoche, New York! I'm very curious to hear your thoughts about it and/or reactions to it... I think others will be too... Just my opinion, doesn't mean much, but I think it's the best film of the year (at least, thus far...) despite the mixed reactions from critics... Though Roger, A.O. Scott, Manohla Dargis and Richard Corliss loved it...
I agree with Andrew, for sure. Any vacuum that fills the White House for eight years is worth making a movie about.
I won't try to read Stone's mind or say he shouldn't have made a different movie about Bush, because, yes, Nixon was a much more interesting film and a much more interesting man. But when the friend I saw it with said: "I guess it was okay, but where was the insight?" my immediate reaction was: the insight was right there on the screen, there just wasn't much to look into, and wasn't that pretty interesting in itself? Now someone else, or even Stone himself, can go and make that film about "us" and why so many voted for this vacuum, which nature should abhor, in 2004. (I will, with utter bafflement, give him the first term).
Karlos, Dan: "Discreet Charm" had to be the intended reference, and I thought it could have been a smart and resonant one. I started laughing... and then Stone, in characteristic fashion, smothered the moment with stupid reaction shots. At least he didn't play the Talking Heads' "Road to Nowhere" over the scene -- but I started cringing in fear that he would. I guess that would be another way of describing my main problem with the movie: Stone is too heavy-handed to treat such a lightweight at the center of his movie. I'm glad it wasn't an angry movie; when Stone gets Angry he's so bombastic he doesn't leave any for the audience to feel. Someone with a finer sense of irony could have done (and I hope, will do) wonders with the story of a frat boy president who really wasn't interested in a world beyond Midland, Texas. Except, maybe, to mosey on over to Crawford every now and again to clear some brush.
Jim,
Thanks for your very insightful thoughts, which helped to clarify my own reactions to the film. You are spot on about the "hollowness" of W. but I feel that this is not entirely negative. Having gone to watch W. with expectations for something along the lines of Nixon, that is the portrayal of Bush as a tragic, shakespearean figure, I was rather relieved that Stone did not attempt anything so grandiose. In my opinion any attempt to give Bush such tragic grandeur would have been ridiculous, the real life Bush does not have anything to make him tragic (neither, in fact, did Nixon as far as I can tell). But I must say that any such biopic seems to me doomed to fail, and while I found W. perfectly enjoyable it did leave me particularly moved or with any particular insights.
Actually, I think the long shot of them walking down the road was the last one in the sequence, no further reactioon shots, and my theater laughed ("...Robin Hood...Robin Hood..."). Even though I thought of The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, it could have also been taken from the jacket of Hubris.
Strangely enough my audience laughed hardest at the scene where Bush was playing fetch with his dog ("She'll need a seeing eye dog for herself").
P.S.
Brolin says Bush saw and liked it:
http://www.suntimes.com/entertainment/zwecker/1269950,CST-FTR-zp10.article
It probably won't get confirmed unless there's a record of a screening in the White House theater, or if he comments on it in his memoirs (when he finds a publisher).
Dan: There's an earlier shot of the group walking down the road toward the camera, before they realize they don't know where they're going. That's what first made me think of "Discreet Charm." If, indeed, Bush actually aw it and liked it, I can't say I'd be surprised. One time I asked John Candy if Howie Mandel had ever seen the "SCTV" parody of him. Candy said he had, and apparently either didn't, or wouldn't, understand how devastating it was. I don't think Bush is capable of that larger self-awareness, either....
Maybe I'm naturally a contrarian, but I usually end up taking the opposite view point from those I'm talking to.
Jim, I'd like to warn you and the others, like Karlos, Lucas and Alex, not to be too...I'm hesitating here over a word, and I want to use "smug", but that's not it.
I, too, was enormously relieved and enheartened by the victory of President-elect Obama. I, too, think that George W. Bush has been nothing less than a disaster as a President (see my comment in Roger's blog entry "This land was made for you and me", posted on Nov 7 12:42 pm, in reply to Scott Cordova's comment posted on Nov 7 10:28 am), by which I'm estalishing my bona fides of being on your side.
That being said, I haven't seen "W.", and I'm not sure I plan to (if I ever get the chance - it might not be released here in Canada, and frankly my time is not my own). But having watched the "W" presidency for years (certainly, more years than it deserved), I have a few comments.
First, I think that there's more to just being shallow and thoughtless to "W". I have no trouble imagining a meeting (probably sometime around 1997) between Rumsfeld, Cheney, Richard Perle, Karl Rove, and representatives of the Christian fundamentalist group, presenting the idea to George of running for President. And I can see Rumsfeld telling George, "You'll just be the mouthpiece, the guy who can go out there and be earnest and warm and charm the electorate; we'll tell you what to say and do, and when we're elected, we'll run things. You get to be the point guy, but you won't have to worry about all the details because we'll take care of them."
In my humble opinion, this has continued a strategy that the GOP stumbled upon with Ronald Reagan, perfected with "W", and then went to the well one time too often, with disastrous results with Sarah Palin. Basically, pick someone who is capable of being popular, of getting elected, who can act as a spokesman for a corporate presidency, and who is seen as a bit of a buffoon so that, when things inevitably go wrong, the "advisors" can take the hit.
Reagan was the original "Teflon man" - nothing stuck to him. "W", for a long time, was made of Teflon too, until it became too apparent that he was being "handled" by back room interests. And the more Palin appeared in public and manifested her complete unpreparedness, the more the moderate voters of America decided they didn't want another "handled" candidate, even as VP.
So what's the problem I have? I, too, was pleased by Obama's election, and I commented in Roger's blog that I hope it means that the era of "kindergarten" politics in America is over. But the expectations are too high, and he won't be able to meet all of them. His victory speech Tuesday night was, among other things, an attempt to manage expectations, and I hope it worked.
Additionally, this election was fought, moreso than any other in the last 20 years, over policies and platforms instead of hysteria and personalities (though Obama did take advantage of the cult of personality).
But looking forward, the next few years are going to be rough, and at the next election the governing party usually gets punished. The Democrats will probably lose control of House and Senate in the mid-term elections, especially if the economic woes are continuing. Palin 2012 looks like a dangerous possibility, especially since her advisors will have had 4 years to polish her act.
I'll really think that America has turned a corner if I see Obama running against Colin Powell in 2012.
I enjoyed the film and found it fascinating because it toned down Stone's usual hysteria to a kind of shallow daze which echoed that of its protagonist.
However, I do want to take a step back here. I think we all may be too quick in pretending to "understand" and dismiss Bush. Jim writes of, "the story of a frat boy president who really wasn't interested in a world beyond Midland, Texas. Except, maybe, to mosey on over to Crawford every now and again to clear some brush."
But this wasn't Bush. Bush was an ambitious man who has had a huge impact on history. Yes, now he's tired and looks like he wants to go home and clear brush. But at his height he exerted a lot of power - and exerted it effectively - to accomplish his (disastrous) goals. The Iraq War was not the action of a down-home boy drifting through his presidency. You all may be "mis-underestimating" the man once again. And I've seen clips of him speaking in the early 90s, where he's soft-spoken, articulate, referring to his access to power. The cowboy thing is, in part, a persona, one he may believe, but the man is shrewder than his critics give him credit for.
Also, I'm wary of this conflating religiosity with the other elements of Bush's presidency. I don't think Rumsfeld has much to do with the Religious Right. And all this talk of "puppetry" can get border on glibness. I'm glad Obama won, I'm glad the Bush years are over. But let's not get carried away in simplifying the Right or even Bush. There's a lot going on there and to just wave it away misses the point, whether you agree with it or not.
The Americans should hang Bush from low-slung gallows, burn his effigy, and see his memory damned. That many I meet express almost nostalgic sympathy for a man who bankrupted their country and murdered thousands while justifying the idiotic oversight allowing transparently illegal wars to begin indicates a dangerous sense of denial and identification with the basest members of society which, together, portend dreadfully for the nation's character. I understand their need to control for cognitive dissonance and perhaps to rally behind a tyrannical, disastrous cretin somehow elected (although after years of success under his opposite, I have no idea what they were thinking) to their highest democratic office, but to justify such evasion as mere cynicism (or worse, reason) is not only abjectly false, but dangerous. The United States should express nothing short of towering rage against its spoilers, and yet this is the product of its most liberal mainstream filmmaker? Pathetic!