“W.” is the antithesis of what an Oliver Stone film usually feels like. Instead of relying on fiery, in-your-face exchanges that often lead to shocking story development, he presents an evenhanded, fairly by-the-book biopic of a simple man who’s clearly in over his head as the leader of the free world. The George W. Bush we’re introduced to is a reckless booze hound who bounces from job to job until one day finding Jesus and deciding to enter the realm of political persuasion, so it should go without saying that the narrative structure here is anything but linear. In all honesty, it feels more like a greatest hits collection thrown together in haste than a carefully plotted character study in the league of “Born on the Fourth of July” or “Nixon,” but I still found every minute to be fascinating enough to warrant a recommendation.
After a stellar 2007, Josh Brolin takes another step toward the A-list in the title role and creates a character that the audience almost feels sorry for at times due to his constant anxiety and inability to do anything his father approves of. His uncanny embodiment of the present day Bush is spot-on in every facet and the backdoor scenes involving Dick Cheney, Colin Powell, and Donald Rumsfeld are almost too topical to laugh at. The more decisions that Bush is faced with, the more passive and complacent he becomes, so his overconfident knights of the round table act as an invaluable safety net when it comes to getting the country out of tough situations. I don’t know about you, but I find a president with that kind of secrecy and indecision to be completely ill-equipped to have their finger on the button.
The strength of this film is undoubtedly in the casting, because Richard Dreyfuss (especially), James Cromwell, Elizabeth Banks, Toby Jones, and Jeffrey Wright are all indispensable in bringing Stone’s vision to life and due their best to keep the action afloat long enough for the viewer to get something out of it. While it appears that Stone went out of his way to highlight Bush’s “daddy issues,” some of the confrontation was just too hard to believe since I can’t really see Bush Sr. asking his son if he wants an ass whooping. Then again, the order of events doesn’t really matter, because most Americans already have a firm impression of the man and nothing this movie drums up is going to change that.
- *** out of 4
For those hoping that “Quarantine” would be an unpredictably petrifying blend of “Cloverfield” and “28 Days Later,” I regret to inform you that it doesn’t even come close to that type of efficient storytelling. The trepidation is minimal, the characters are hollow, and the first fifteen minutes could’ve been trimmed without detracting from the film’s overall value. Since horror films tend to live and die by how eerie the mood is, this one kicks the bucket rather quickly as the picture is too muffled and frenetic to experience anything greater than a transitory chill when one of the infected inhabitants finally comes into focus.
I will give kudos to Jennifer Carpenter for giving the most chaotically overstated performance in a horror film since Ronee Blakley in Wes Craven’s classic “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” but otherwise nothing that original happens to justify any further discussion.
- ** out of 4
I’m still trying to figure out why the Coen Brothers’ latest oddball concoction “Burn After Reading” is so inexplicably hilarious, but I don’t think words can fully describe just how eccentric this film is. I hesitate even calling it a film due to the lack of any legitimate purpose and would still like to know how premier talent such as Clooney, Pitt, McDormand, Swinton, and Malkovich even signed on to this cinematic folly. It’s basically an intelligent, high-concept spy jaunt without, you know, the intelligent, high-concept maneuvering usually present in films of this genre. These people are ignorant dolts who are so wrapped up in their own little world that they don’t even realize the triviality of the pseudo-espionage they’re supposedly engaged in.
Let’s get this straight: Malkovich’s character is married to Swinton, who in turn is having an affair with Clooney, who in turn is having an affair with McDormand? Sounds great doesn’t it? Personally, I could care less about the frivolity of the plot, because the actors are so spectacular at indulging in the insanity. Brad Pitt steals the show as moronic personal trainer Chad Feldheimer and injects the film with just the right amount of playful absurdity to save it from being a total disaster. While it’s certainly an acquired taste, I urge you to broaden your scope and revel in the notion of the Hollywood elite taking ninety minutes to act up a storm of epically stupid proportion.
- *** out of 4
