What’s Cool: Oliver Stone’s W. is an interesting experiment if nothing else. Stone, who earned writer and director credits on W., as well as JFK and Nixon, is obviously no stranger to films involving presidents. But the experiment this time around was to make and release the film while its titular figure still occupied the Oval Office. The result is, again, interesting.
The film presents George W. Bush as few have actually seen him—as human, as a regular guy. In a performance that deserves a great deal of praise, Josh Brolin (No Country for Old Men, American Gangster) is the president. He is charming, magnetic, passionate, authoritative, confused, frustrated, ambitious, and earnest. We watch as he is hazed as an aspiring frat boy and as he discusses the ethics of torture with Dick Cheney. We watch as he drives drunk and as he finds God on his personal road to Damascus (along a wooded jogging route, in his case). We see his pain when he loses his first campaign for a West Texas congressional seat, and we see the fire in his eyes as he describes the Lord’s calling on his life to become the Commander-in-Chief. We watch the President of the United States plan for an invasion in the War Room and compel his advisors to conclude the meeting in a moment of prayer. This degree of access to such a historic figure—though highly fictionalized and dramatized—is undeniably intriguing to those of us who will never find ourselves rubbing shoulders with such powerful people. Ultimately, Stone’s experiment isn’t interesting enough to overcome its shortcomings in both conception and execution.
What’s Not: As many have said in regard to W., history needs to breathe before we interpret or judge it, but Stone just couldn’t wait. As a result, the film drips with anger and frustration toward the current political regime. Since the film is about the current regime, the still-fresh feelings of the filmmaker cloud his judgment and give way to caricatures and grandstanding speeches—both of which undermine W.’s credibility. Essentially, Stone entered the political arena and, in an effort to fit in, began slinging mud.
If Stone had the discipline to wait a decade or so, his film may have been more levelheaded. (Case in point, George H.W. Bush is depicted as wise and somewhat sympathetic.) As it stands, W. is preachy, although reasonably fair in its portrayal of the 43rd president. For evidence of Stone’s message, see the forced portrait of Colin Powell as the administration’s conscience—specifically, Powell’s War Room monologue, complete with slow zoom and introspective monologue music.
I haven’t even mentioned the narrative itself, which was a disjointed series of scenes from Bush’s life, seemingly chosen and arranged at random. The theme of struggling for the approval of a demanding earthly father and a redeeming heavenly Father is a good one, but it’s buried beneath the onscreen and behind-the-camera politics.
Bottom Line: The most valuable takeaway from W. may very well be the idea that George W. Bush is a human being—a concept that gets lost in the vindictive, divisive political rhetoric of our day. W. shows us his happiness, his sadness, his successes, his mistakes, his desire to spread freedom, and his struggle to bear the weight of being an embattled leader. Though a flawed film, W. proves that no one is easily reduced to a campaign slogan or a critical editorial. Like Bush, we carry with us our experiences, the expectations placed on us, our desires to do something meaningful with our lives.
Official site: www.wthefilm.com
Our Rating:
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