Opening two weeks before the election, W. came in fourth at the box office, making about 11 million dollars. An inglorious bow, it was beat out by a movie based on a video game, a CGI chihuahua and a porno about the illicit sex lives of bees.
This should surprise no one.
Conventional wisdom over the last couple of years has been that any movie attempting to deal with current events (cough cough IRAQ) is going to fail. But compared to a film like Stop Loss, W. can be considered something of a minor success, although I'm curious to know how much of a drop off in ticket sales we'll see by next weekend.
Oh. Looks like High School Musical 3 comes out next weekend... So uh... Yeah... W. is fucked.
There's a horrible irony to be had here: It was easier to sell the Iraq war than it has been to sell the movies about the war. Are we feeling guilty for launching a pre-emptive attack on a sovereign nation? Or do these movies suck? When it comes to W., the answer is probably both.
In terms of cinema it can't hold a candle to the exhilarating (though factually challenged) JFK. Hell even Nixon, with Anthony Hopkins' troll like embodiment of the impeached president is better than Josh Brolin's over-confident performance of Bushie. This is a confused muddled film that oscillates between extended SNL sketch and faux Shakespearean drama. It's not particularly funny, moving or even entertaining. As much as I wanted to like this film, and oh boy did I want to like it, the truth is, as my friend Sam said: "It's kind of a mess."
As I try to recall the film, it's difficult to think of one instance of dramatic tension. No, W. is one of those films where the plot progresses so mechanically that it feels less like a life unraveling on the screen than Bullet Points: The Movie. If this film was a Word document, I would break my computer.
We first find Bush alone in an empty Rangers stadium. We listen as cheering fills the soundtrack. The scene sets up Bush's deep psychological desired to be liked and admired. The rest of the film attempts to answer the question, what makes George Bush the man he is? The answer, and not a terribly original one, is that Bush has forever lived in the shadow of his father H.W. From a young man up till the present Bush has always yearned for his father's approval. It is this patriarchal discord that eventually pushes him to start the war in Iraq as a kind of giant "Fuck you, Dad!"
But it's just so damned boring. Even the infamous "pretzel incident" plays out with a stunning lack of excitement. We watch as Bush swallows the pretzel, starts to choke, and begins to forcibly slam his stomach against the back of a chair. Finally, he passes out, and face plants onto the floor which dislodges the pretzel and in slow motion, sends it flying out of his mouth. It's supposed to be funny, and it kind of is, but the joke is thin and wears off quickly.
“Huh huh, look how dramatic we made it seem when he was choking on that pretzel. GET IT, SLOW MOTION?” Yes Oliver, now stop rubbing our faces in your poor man's irony.
Furthermore, why was this scene even included? It's never referenced again, nor does it seem to have any kind of effect on Bush (the character). This is bad film making. This scene only exists because it happened. W. seems to be in love with facts, nary a second goes by when some fact isn't being shoved down our throat. So when Bush makes fun of Jimmy Carter's solar panels on the White House that's how we know it's 1976.
GET IT?!
JIMMY CARTER WAS THE PRESIDENT AND HE PUT SOLAR PANELS ON THE WHITE HOUSE ROOF!
OMG, CHECK WIKIPEDIA CAUSE THAT TOTALLY FUCKING HAPPENED.
There are some bright spots to the film, namely moments in the cabinet meetings where we watch the key players prepare for the war in Iraq. Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney is at times terrifying in his unyielding certainty of the existence of WMDs in Iraq. He has an engrossing monologue where he carefully lays out the Neo-Conservative ideology towards remaking the entire Mid-East. It is a moment where you begin to grasp just how much of our recent foreign policy has been based solely on the schemes and machinations of hard liners who have spent more time in think tanks than in real tanks.
But as we wade through the cultural muck we find that the burden of something being "intelligent," "entertaining" or even "reasonably competent" is no impediment when trying to understand what it means (this will become extremely clear when we get to DC 9/11 Time of Crisis). This is surprisingly fitting when trying to understand a film that deals with one of the most willfully ignorant presidents since Grant tried to replace his blood with Scotch.
I can't imagine W. will have any real political impact. Nor do I imagine the movie will be remembered as a film that tapped into the zeitgeist. So what is W. when considered as an artifact of the Bush regime? For lack of a better word, it's a cowed piece of faux-political filmmaking that lacks the courage to say anything real or significant. You make a movie about George Bush and all you can say is he started the Iraq War to... one up his dad? Really? That's all you got?
Stone has defended his approach thus:
The movie's not a smear job. I wouldn't want to spend a year of my life making something that is demeaning to somebody, being malicious. That's the wrong approach to art. It's not a political film, but a Shakespearean one.
Fair enough. But it's one thing to get your facts straight (and believe me W. is obsessed with facts) and another thing to sacrifice your fucking voice. And this films lacks a voice. It's understandable that Stone just wants to put the Bush story on screen and then “let people decide.” I get that, but in a sense that's also a cop out. Stone is holding back and the film suffers because of it.
I'm going to make a leap here and propose an idea that I'll hopefully deal with more in depth later. In 2008, we're still dealing with the political cowardice (and fear) that dominated the national discourse from 9/11 until about two years ago, when Americans began to sour on the war in Iraq. Those were trying times to be anyone who thought that 9/11 didn't give Bush a free pass to turn our country into Super Jail. I'm thinking of the Clear Channel Iraq rallies, the railroading of the Dixie Chicks and the conservative backlash against Michael Moore.
In 2008 I think the discourse has changed quite a bit. But that mentality is still there, especially when dealing with the President. I mean even if Stone had made a balls to the wall Fush Buck movie, he'd still only be pissing off less than a third of the country. It's as if Stone was afraid that if he took a firmer more direct stance he would risk being aligned with Michael Moore and immediately written off. It could be that we're still too caught in the thick of things to be able to understand fully the man that Bush is. But I also wonder how much fear we still retain when we publicly go after Bush, could it be that even though he's lost all of our good will, we still feel unable to face up to our own complicity in aiding and abetting this monstrosity of a President?
