W. ★★★½ Frost/Nixon ★★★★½
Two heavy-weights of the movie industry have brought us films about presidents 37 and 43. Neither number was particularly lucky for America, but these movies portray men more complex than their respective legacies. W. is out on DVD in early February; Frost/Nixon is in theaters now.
With mere days until his presidency is over, George W. Bush has been traveling the world trying to save face. Turn on your preferred 24-hour news network, and chances are strong that you'll see analysts debating the possibility that W. could somehow be redeemed in the eyes of history. Will future generations see him as a cool dude with a hard-on for liberation, or as the Worst Ever American President?
Enter Oliver Stone. His recent film, W., may provide the most concrete possible reference for future generations wondering just who this Bush guy was. This immense power is one that Stone has exercised before, and thereby strengthened: one might argue that previous films of his, like Nixon and JFK, have created just this type of cultural mirror. So just what kind of picture has he painted of our regrettably fearless leader?
W. is a curious film in that it tells a story that isn't quite over. Starting in the early college days of George W. Bush, it initially depicts a socially smart, marginally lazy guy who seems to have it all, except that his dad won't allow him to enjoy it. Struggling to outshine his father's bleak forecast for the future of such an ambitionless young man – and to do so on his own terms – "Junior" enters the political arena and succeeds both despite and because of his unique personality and priorities.
In discussing Stone's latest film with friends, I heard complaints from some that the movie was too easy on Bush; a select few others complained it was too harshly biased against him. To me, W. seemed, above all, devoutly biographical in its portrayal of the latter-day Bush, with clear allusions to stories and information already brought up in famous biographies like The Bushes: Portrait of a Dynasty and First Son (neither book is particularly kind to Mr. President). Rather than overtly portray a foolish W, Stone offers us a man faced with increasingly higher stakes, delegating more and more decisions as he climbs the ranks, and all the while constantly demanding he be considered the one who's really responsible for it all: The Decider.
Fascinating in its remarkably plausible depiction of documented events, this is ultimately a film with no ending. Cinematically, W. suffers for that fact, but how thrilling, philosophically, that the movie itself will help to write the future it didn't dare predict: the fate of its title character.
With mere days until his presidency is over, George W. Bush has been traveling the world trying to save face. Turn on your preferred 24-hour news network, and chances are strong that you'll see analysts debating the possibility that W. could somehow be redeemed in the eyes of history. Will future generations see him as a cool dude with a hard-on for liberation, or as the Worst Ever American President?
Enter Oliver Stone. His recent film, W., may provide the most concrete possible reference for future generations wondering just who this Bush guy was. This immense power is one that Stone has exercised before, and thereby strengthened: one might argue that previous films of his, like Nixon and JFK, have created just this type of cultural mirror. So just what kind of picture has he painted of our regrettably fearless leader?
W. is a curious film in that it tells a story that isn't quite over. Starting in the early college days of George W. Bush, it initially depicts a socially smart, marginally lazy guy who seems to have it all, except that his dad won't allow him to enjoy it. Struggling to outshine his father's bleak forecast for the future of such an ambitionless young man – and to do so on his own terms – "Junior" enters the political arena and succeeds both despite and because of his unique personality and priorities.
In discussing Stone's latest film with friends, I heard complaints from some that the movie was too easy on Bush; a select few others complained it was too harshly biased against him. To me, W. seemed, above all, devoutly biographical in its portrayal of the latter-day Bush, with clear allusions to stories and information already brought up in famous biographies like The Bushes: Portrait of a Dynasty and First Son (neither book is particularly kind to Mr. President). Rather than overtly portray a foolish W, Stone offers us a man faced with increasingly higher stakes, delegating more and more decisions as he climbs the ranks, and all the while constantly demanding he be considered the one who's really responsible for it all: The Decider.
Fascinating in its remarkably plausible depiction of documented events, this is ultimately a film with no ending. Cinematically, W. suffers for that fact, but how thrilling, philosophically, that the movie itself will help to write the future it didn't dare predict: the fate of its title character.
•••
In those heady days before we knew how truly awful a presidency could be, Richard Nixon was right at the top of every American's shit list. Let's be fair to the late president: he still holds a top spot for many of us. After Nixon's resignation and subsequent pardoning by Gerald Ford, America's faith in government was fractured. Would Nixon ever be asked to pay for his crimes?
In Ron Howard's new film, Frost/Nixon, this is the cultural climate that sets things in motion. A solution comes from an unlikely source; British talk-show personality David Frost sees a Nixon interview as a great way to shatter ratings records and make tons of advertising money. Not a particularly politically savvy fellow, Frost hires a team of researchers who inform him just how critical it is that he really nail Nixon in this interview. Meanwhile, the Nixon camp only accepts the interview offer because they're expecting the kind of soft-ball love-fest that Frost is known for. Drama ensues!
Through an interesting combination of documentary-style "interviews" from the present day, archival footage, reenactments, and of course the partially-factual story line itself, Frost/Nixon manages to make a movie about a political television event from the Seventies engaging. More than that, the film is frequently funny and occasionally thrilling. Kind of like the whole Watergate debacle. We come away still angry at Nixon, but genuinely sorry for him as well, a testament to the film's powerful script and Frank Langella's positively uncanny and commanding portrayal of the 37th president.
So, alas, George W. Bush fails again. Even his movie isn't as good as Nixon's. Nevertheless, both of these films are absolutely worth seeing, and worth comparing, as they address the question of failed presidency thought two very different methods, and by focusing on two very, very different men.
For most it is difficult to understand why Iraq is such an important place.
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