W.

2008, United States
Director: Oliver Stone
Writer: Stanley Weiser

A few analogies sprang to mind while watching W., but my favorite is one offered by history. I’m thinking of Marcus Aurelius, the last of Rome’s philosopher kings, by all accounts a learned and just ruler. Aurelius is remembered for breaking a century-old tradition and selecting his son as his successor, rather than the most capable person he knew. Emperor Commodus proved to be unstable and incapable; he alienated the Senate, failed to annex the all-but-conquered lands that would someday be responsible for Rome’s fall, and his reign marks the beginning of the Empire’s end. Looking back through history, should we forgive Aurelius for blindly placing his family before his country? Could he have possibly known his moment of fatherly weakness would be so debilitating?

Watching W, I am brought to the same question. In the film, George Bush Sr. is portrayed in a mostly positive light, except in one important aspect: he falls well short of the discipline needed to rein in his, er, free spirited son. Given countless reprieves and opportunities by his preoccupied father, “Dubya” is finally able to demonstrate his ineptitude to all upon election to the most important office in the world. This is the central thesis of the film, and while there is doubtless much supposition that went into forming the Bush Sr. character, in particular, the story is convincingly constructed – and quite compelling.

The casting is nothing short of superb, headlined with Josh Brolin’s Oscar-worthy performance. It is a little weird at first to see all these current public figures in a movie, as if you’re violating their privacy somehow; when John McCain flashed momentarily on the screen people around me laughed, as if it was funny because they “knew” him. But the “behind closed doors” element is a big part of what makes the film so fascinating. W’s life is the door that is thrown open the widest, and the film flows around his personal history. There are many funny parts, but mostly it takes on a frank and even sympathetic tone with regards to the main character. W. the story of a guy that mostly means well, but is damned from birth with a lethal combination of high expectations and insufficient grey matter. In the end, the “villains” of this film are Cheney, Karl Rove, and to some extent George Bush Sr., who precipitate Bush’s failings.

I love some of the stylistic decisions Stone makes in this film. For one, there is no hard and fast continuity, except for the vaguely emerging narrative of a failed presidency. The chronology is also tied together by recurring images, most notably Bush’s love of baseball. Food also plays an amusing and recurring role – Bush is often talking with his mouth full, and look for a priceless moment with Donald Rumsfield and a slice of pie.

Style: 8
A very stylishly executed biography with a cast that is spot on. Despite jumping back and forth through time the film hangs together splendidly, in part thanks to effective images and themes. A diverse set of locations, from Bush’s Texas ranch to various rooms around the White House, add to the already fine sense of realism.

Substance: 8
I think most people expect this film to be a scathing anti-Bush piece, but W. is surprisingly deep and reflective. Some pro-Bush people (aren’t they extinct yet?) might complain that it’s unfair, but I think W. does a good job of celebrating the man’s virtues to the extent possible. The narrative of his life turns out to be a pretty good one, and most of the individual scenes are compelling all on their own; in particular, the meeting in which he and his cabinet decide to invade Iraq is superb entertainment.

Overall: 8
W. is not quite the comedy I expected. Though it is funny, it is mostly a fair and serious look at the man we currently have heading up our government. Remarkably, parts of it are even touching (witness the scene where Bush Sr. loses his reelection bid). When a film runs the gamut of emotion like that, in a smart and compelling way, I almost want Dubya back in office so we can get sequels. That, of course, supposes Hollywood would still exist after the country’s been reduced to barbarism.